


The House on Lane 66

by OolongTeacup



Category: Undertale (Video Game)
Genre: Baked Goods, Bullying, Communication, Consent, Cuddles, Dates, Death, Depression, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Eventual Smut, F/M, Family Feels, Family Issues, Fluff, Grief/Mourning, Healing, Healthy Relationships, Horrortale Papyrus (Undertale), Horrortale Sans (Undertale), Human/Monster Romance, Hurt/Comfort, Jealousy, Kinks, Monster prejudice, Music, Phobias, Polyamory, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Pranks and Practical Jokes, Racism, Reader Is Not Chara (Undertale), Reader Is Not Frisk (Undertale), Reader-Insert, Rebellion, Redemption, Reverse Harem, Scars, Second Chances, Segregation, Suggestive Themes, Swapfell Papyrus (Undertale), Swapfell Sans (Undertale), Timelines, Trauma, Trust Issues, Underfell Papyrus (Undertale), Underfell Sans (Undertale), Undertale Monsters on the Surface, Violence, backstories, dark themes, memory problems, movies - Freeform, plant experiments, political struggles, relationships can be with anybody, shit can get heavy sometimes i'm sorry, video games - Freeform, yes there is smut
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-02-27
Updated: 2021-02-19
Packaged: 2021-02-27 21:20:48
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 41
Words: 548,533
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22922485
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/OolongTeacup/pseuds/OolongTeacup
Summary: You just started your last year of college and you need a job. Badly.When a wanted ad online leads you to the forests surrounding Mt. Ebott, to a giant, brick house full of monsters, you wonder if this might be worth it. Some of these monsters seem alright; friendly, even.Others - downright terrifying....but you really need this job.(more tags will be added as the story updates; i'm sorry they kind of seem all over the place I'm not good at tags)(Note: I've decided to raise the story rating from mature to explicit due to some of the heavier themes and sexual content in later chapters. Thank you for understanding!)
Relationships: Papyrus (Horrortale)/Reader, Papyrus (Swapfell)/Reader, Papyrus (Undertale)/Reader, Papyrus (underfell)/reader, Reader/Sans, Sans (Horrortale)/Reader, Sans (Swapfell)/Reader, Sans (Underfell)/Reader, Sans (Undertale)/Reader
Comments: 2102
Kudos: 1726





	1. Ch 1 - The Interview

**Author's Note:**

> Ahh I'm so excited that this is finally ready to be posted! I know that I have another story in the works, but I'll do my best to juggle them. I just had so much fun writing this that I couldn't put it aside. I hope you all like it, and thanks for reading!

Ch 1 - The Interview

“-and so, given the aggressive nature of monsters, the Ebott Segregation Act went into effect in the few short weeks after the earthquake that released them from the underground, giving us humans some peace of mind regarding our safety.”

Your hand shot into the air, the sleeve of your green sweater dress falling past your elbow. Your professor’s eyes flickered in your direction, you were only one of three students in the lecture hall, after all, but he continued to drone on.

“Shortly after,” your professor said, resolutely turning his back on you in favor of the slides on the projector, “the embargo on monster goods was voted on. The Ambassador argued against this point, insisting that items imbued with magic could be of use to humanity, and so it was that monster goods came to market, though the value of their gold to our national currency is still up for consideration, since it is made of pyrite and not actual gold. As the monsters ventured further out on the surface, the area surrounding Mount Ebott, once a valued national park, had been given to the queen of monsters in an effort to placate her and deter open war, but the establishment of monster boarders and, by extent, country, has given rise to negative public opinion-”

You stood up, the metal feet of your chair squeaking loudly against the stone floor, stubbornly keeping your hand in the air. Your professor started at the sudden noise, dropping the remote that controlled the slide show, and could no longer pretend he didn’t see your hand.

“What is it, er-?” Your professor asked as he retrieved his remote off the floor. You gave him your name, but before you could begin to say anything else, he said, “You can sit down now, thank you. If you have any questions you can ask after I’ve finished the overview of our known history.”

“But, professor,” you pressed, wanting answers, “How can you say monsters are dangerous? They’ve only been on the surface for a few months at the most, and humans rarely interact with them! Even the Ambassador stated-”

“This is not a debate.” Your professor huffed and fixed the few flyway strands of grey hair that were his comb over. “This particular class is on the history of monster kind since they came to the surface, and you cannot argue fact.”

“But we don’t know anything about them!” You argued, aware that the other two students were staring at you with looks of annoyance. “How can you call this class ‘Monster Studies’ if you aren’t going to question what the media has already told us? It’s prejudice to just assume that all monsters are dangerous. And how can you suggest an open war when there haven’t even been any reports of attacks - “

“That is quite enough!” Your professor shouted, his face turning purple. “I am teaching this lecture, not you, and if this is how you are going to be, then you should speak to the Dean about dropping it and finding a new one!”

Reluctantly, you shut your mouth and returned to your seat. Your professor, the color of his face returning to normal, turned around to face the projector and continued the lesson.

It was stupid, you thought, stupid that you were getting shot down for asking questions and being curious. The whole reason you took this class instead of Women’s Studies for your liberal arts credit was because you wanted to know more about the beings that appeared after the earthquake. All of their different shapes and sizes; the rumors that they could actually use magic, and not just infuse their items with it…

Still, you reminded yourself, it was just the one class, and then you’d have a double minor along with your major. And you graduated after this semester. You could probably start looking for internships for your dream job right now!

Thinking along those lines, you pulled out your phone beneath your desk and scrolled through it. You had a few new emails since class started. One was a reminder from the financial aid office, stating that you would be unable to receive your degree if your outstanding balance for this semester was not paid in full before graduation.

You picked irritably at a run in your white leggings. Of course they wouldn’t waste time when asking for money. But when it came to giving you your payouts for books and supplies, you had to hound the office for weeks before you saw any checks.

The other email was from federal aid. You had applied months ago, during winter break of last semester, and they finally got back to you. ...and your request for a loan had been denied. You groaned and slid down in your chair. If only you hadn’t wasted your first year on a stupid pipe dream, you would’ve gotten that loan, you would be able to graduate.

You would have to get a job. Living off federal aid had been nice, since you could focus completely on your studies, but that had just run out. What kind of job could you get, that you would even qualify for, that would pay enough to cover the cost before semester’s end? Without your degree, you couldn’t get your dream job or anything remotely close to it. You would have to find something, anything.

The thought of working in retail or, god forbid, fast food, until you paid off your debts, left a bitter taste in your mouth. And once you were out of school, you’d have to start paying back all the loans you already took out, and that would make paying off this semester even more difficult. Then there was finding a place to live and the bills that came with that…

You should be paying attention to your professor’s lecture, but the panic welling in your chest had you on your phone, searching the internet for a job. There were a couple promising looking ones - a desk job at a bank filing papers, a receptionist opening for a company that made computer chips, and a warehouse position at a glass factory; to name a few. You sent inquiries to them all.

There was one that popped up on your feed, one that made you question if it was too good to be true. It was a wanted ad for a groundskeeper, and only a few weeks old. It paid well, and offered on site housing. You searched for further details and found a picture of a large, brick house, rather like an old southern plantation home. There was certainly enough acreage for it to be a plantation, if the ad was being honest. Why had no one snatched this up yet?

**Must be monster friendly.**

You stared at the attachment at the end of the ad, then at the address. It was located on the edge of Mount Ebott, in the forest. You had your answer.

Who could own such a house? If you trusted anything your professor said, it couldn’t be monsters. There was enough friction as it was with the human population that they would never be able to buy a house from a realtor. Maybe it was an older couple, getting on in years and unable to tend to their house anymore? Maybe the request, asking for monster friendly people, was because they were so close to the border?

You sent an email inquiry, asking if the position was available. Who cares if it was close to the monster border? You certainly didn’t. In fact, you hoped that you would meet one. A real life monster. If you did, then you could come back to class, and argue with your professor until you were blue in the face that he was just a racist and afraid of those that were different to himself.

The rest of your morning passed uneventfully. Granted, it was only the first day of class, so your other lectures mainly went over the syllabus, or started with general overviews like Monster Studies had. 

You were sitting in the cafeteria, helping yourself to a slice of pizza that you had bought with the loose change in the bottom of your purse, when your phone buzzed. 

**you’re interested?**

Your heart leapt in your chest - it was an email from the groundskeeping ad. As you were typing your reply, a voice popped in your head. Your dad’s voice, from when you were a kid, warning you to be wary of strangers. Especially those that contacted you over the internet.

This job paid a lot, almost too much. What if they were trying to lure you in? Humans were capable of terrible things…

You erased your reply and typed a new one, one that requested that you meet in a public place to discuss details. Almost immediately, you got a reply.

**can’t really leave the mountain. but if you’re worried about something, we can talk outside.**

Can’t leave…? A feeling of excitement rose in your chest. The Segregation Act forbids monsters from leaving the borders of Mt. Ebott. Could your potential employer be a monster?

What if your professor was right? What if monsters were violent individuals? You shook the thoughts away from your head. You had been watching the news, too, and knew that the Ambassador, a kid barely in their teens, loved monsters. If they weren’t afraid, why should you be? 

You sent a response to the monster’s email, agreeing to meet later that day. With a quick check to the bus routes, you set a time. You just hoped that a two hour trip would be worth it.

~~~

The bus stop to Mt. Ebott National Forest came close to your destination, but you still had half a mile walk up the road to reach the brick house and, hopefully, a kind monster who would employ you.

Your breath misted in the cold spring air and you pulled your leather jacket tighter around you. One hand was in your pocket, tightly holding onto your pepper spray. It was the only thing you brought with you besides your phone - you had left your backpack and purse in your dorm room. It was better to look like you had nothing on you to avoid becoming a target of muggers.

Slightly nervous, your eyes darted at the trees surrounding the road. Nothing moved amongst them, nothing disturbed the blanket of snow, but the hairs on the back of your neck were on standing on end. Was someone watching you?

There, just a ways ahead, was a green road sign with the number ‘66’ on it. It was the number for the house, and also the meeting place for you and your mysterious monster. You hurried towards it, boots crunching in the snow.

You checked the time on your phone as you stood by the sign. 5pm, just like you had agreed on, but your potential employer was nowhere in sight. You looked down the long, winding drive that disappeared into the woods, just barely making out the brick house in the distance. The snow was clean of footprints. Maybe they were running late? You wished they would hurry up. It was a cold day, and it was already starting to get dark.

“hey there. so you made it.”

You turn at the deep voice behind you, and barely suppress a scream of fright. There, standing in the snow like they had been there all along, was a skeleton. They had a lazy grin on their skull, their hands were deep in the pockets of their blue hoodie, and you could see the bones of their legs peeking out between the gap of their black basketball shorts and pink slippers.

“Oh, um, h-hello!” You stuttered, trying to compose yourself. The white eye lights in the skeleton’s sockets studied you as you held out your hand and gave your name. “You’re the one I’ve been emailing about the groundskeeping job, right?”

“that’s me.” The skeleton reached out and shook your hand. A loud farting noise echoed across the road, and the skeleton pulled his boney hand away to reveal a whoopie cushion. Laughing at the look on your face, he introduced himself, “I’m Sans. Sans the skeleton. good to see you know how to greet a new pal.”

You smiled weakly, not sure of how to react. That, and you were still taken aback at Sans’ sudden appearance. How did he appear behind you so suddenly? There weren’t any tracks in the snow, and you were sure you would have heard him walking up.

“is there something on my face?” Sans frowned at you, catching you staring. You continued to stare. Was he really made of bone? How could his face move like that, how could it bend and flex to show expression, when bone was normally immobile?

“Oh, no, sorry.” You flush with embarrassment. “It’s just, it’s my first time meeting a monster in person. I’m not trying to be rude. It’s nice to meet you, Sans.”

The white lights in his sockets flickered as they studied you again. Despite him being a few inches shorter than yourself, Sans’ gaze had a way of making you feel small. “that so? I’ll try to be gentle then, if it’s your first time.”

You felt your flush deepen.

“so what made you want the job, if you’re scared of monsters?” Sans asked and stuck his hands back into the pockets of his blue hoodie. 

“I-I’m not scared!” You retaliate. He raises a brow at you (how in the world is he doing that?) and you hurry to explain, “Okay, I admit, I’m a bit nervous, but I have no problem with monsters. And I need a job. I’m in my last year of college you see, and funds are getting kind of tight.”

“college, huh?” Sans nods in understanding. “my friend Temmie is in a similar boat. do you have any experience with groundskeeping?”

“Not officially. But I used to garden a lot with my mother before-” you choke off, not wanting to continue that sentence. “Well, point is, I’m no stranger to digging in the dirt. And if you have requests on what you want, I know that I can find books at the library that can teach me how to landscape.”

“there won’t be any digging around until the ground thaws.” Sans nods at all the snow, the lazy grin back on his skull, “but I’m sure we can dig up something for you to do in the meantime, if you take the job.”

It takes you a moment to catch the subtle word usage. “...we?”

Sans nods at the brick house. “I live with my brothers. if you’re serious about taking the job, you should come meet them.” He adds, the grin on his face stretching, “you know, break the ice.”

You look up the length of the winding drive, the hand in your pocket tightening on your pepper spray. Would it do any good on someone with no eyes? Still, Sans didn’t seem like a violent monster. Was it really a good idea to walk into a stranger's house?

“course, if you don’t want it…” Sans said, watching you with those white lights.

“N-no, I do!” You steel your nerves and nod, perhaps a bit too enthusiastically, but started the walk down the snow covered drive all the same. Looking for a way to keep Sans talking, and to also soothe your nerves, you ask, “So, the ad mentioned a room, too?”

“yup. it’s in the attic.” Sans strolled slowly after you, and you slowed your pace to match his. “it’s out of the way, so you’ll have your own space. my brothers can be a bit… loud. but the attic is insulated and quiet. you’ll have your own bathroom, too, since Pap, Milord, and Edge are the only ones that use the showers regularly.”

You nod, liking the sound of that. Studying was hard enough without having to deal with noisy roommates. Speaking of… “How many brothers do you have? Just the three?”

Sans looked at the brick house you were approaching, appraising it. “including me, there’s eight of us.”

“Eight?!”

“why else would we need such a big house?” Sans shrugged and led the way up the porch. Suddenly, his tone became serious, a complete flip from the laid back attitude he had presented so far. “so, before I bring you in, I need to make a few things clear.”

“W-what’s that?” You stutter, your nerves writhing like eels in your stomach again.

“first,” Sans ticked off his points on his skeletal fingers, “my brothers aren’t used to humans; we haven’t had many visitors, never mind one living with us before. they’re going to be curious about you. I honestly thought a monster would answer my ad... but I’m willing to make arrangements for you and your needs, if you’re a good fit. second, even though I’ll be the one to sign the papers and pay you, they’re the ones that are going to decide if you have the job, not me. and last, try not to stare. Pap will be fine with it, but the others are a bit… touchy.”

You nod, wondering what kind of personalities his brothers had that made Sans feel like he had to give you a warning. Or maybe you had been more rude than you realized? Maybe you should turn back, it wasn’t too late, you haven’t entered the house yet....

“alright then. come meet the family.” Sans smiled lazily, his laid back attitude returning, and opened the door for you. “I’m pretty sure they already know you’re here.”

You walked into the spacious entrance hall, making sure to knock the snow from your boots before you crossed the threshold.

The entrance hall had a very high ceiling, giving you a view of the second story from the entryway, despite the crystal chandelier. To your left was an archway that lead to a spacious living room that looked to be sunken into the floor by a foot or so, but was filled with squishy looking chairs and couches and a large flatscreen tv. Straight down the hall looked to be the kitchen; you could see a gleaming marble counter and metal sink, and you could hear clinking as someone cooked just out of sight. You could smell cooking tomato sauce drifting into the entryway. To your right was a handsome oak staircase and, as your eyes looked up the wooden steps, you spotted a pair of white eye lights watching you from the shadows of the upper hall. You had barely made eye contact when the lights vanished further down the hall and out of sight.

“that’ll be Butch.” Sans chuckled as you squinted up the staircase, trying to make sure if you really saw that or not. “he’s shy. the fact you saw him at all shows how curious he is.”

You nodded and took off your wet boots, trying to remember all the names that Sans had told you already. Butch, Pap, Edge, and Milord. What kind of names were those? Of course, you reminded yourself, they were monsters, and there had to be a cultural difference there.

Sans meandered his way into the kitchen, and you hastily caught up. Sans might still be a stranger to you, but he seemed nice enough you didn’t want to be by yourself in this house full of unknown monsters.

“what’s cookin, Pap?” Sans asked as he sat at a spacious kitchen table tucked off to the side, big enough for all eight of his brothers to sit at. 

Your eyes found another skeleton already sitting nearby. He looked very much like Sans, they even had the same color hoodie, but this skeleton’s clothes were threadbare and utterly woebegone. From your spot in the doorway, you could see beneath the table, and noted that he wore grey shorts instead of black, and his slippers were a rusted, copper color.

The skeleton must have felt your gaze. He slowly turned his skull to stare at you with a single, blood red light in his left socket. Your heart jumped in your throat, suppressing a startled scream, as you noticed the shattered hole just off center in the top of his skull, like someone had taken a hammer to it. Remembering Sans’ warning, you looked away towards the stove, to see who was cooking.

Standing there in pink apron, wearing white armor and a red scarf, was the tallest creature you had ever seen, human or monster. The tall skeleton hummed while he stirred a pot vigorously, splashing the walls with red sauce. He spoke with a very loud voice, “SPAGHETTI, MY DEAR BROTHER, WHAT ELSE?”

“well take a sec and pan the room, Pap, and see who I brought.”

The tall skeleton, Pap, whirled around. His white eye lights widened as he spotted you, and he dropped his spoon in surprise. Immediately, the skeleton with the hole in his skull jumped from the table and attacked the spoon, licking the sauce up with a glowing, red tongue.

“A HUMAN!” Pap exclaimed and crossed the tiled floor, stepping over the other skeleton like he wasn’t there. “BUT YOU SAID YOU WERE HIRING A MONSTER, SANS!”

“she was the only one that answered the ad.” Sans shrugged from the table, watching with amusement as Pap circled you, examining everything from your leather jacket to your green sweater dress. “and the HOA has been a pain in the spine in the meantime…”

“YES, I KNOW THAT FINDING HELP HAS BEEN DIFFICULT,” Papyrus took one of your arms in his gloved hands, examining your fingers with interest. You wanted to pull your arm away, but reminded yourself of another of Sans’ warnings. These monsters were probably as curious about you as you were of them, and it wasn’t like Pap was trying to hurt you. “BUT DO YOU THINK IT’S A GOOD IDEA, WITH EDGE…?”

“she didn’t run away screaming from me, so that’s a good sign.” Sans yawned and stared at the other blue-hoodied skeleton. “Axe, stop licking the floor. you’ll drive Milord up the wall if he catches you.”

“It’s nice to meet you, um, Pap.” You said timidly to the tall skeleton, glancing for a moment at the one on the floor, Axe. You gave Pap your name and your brain ran on overtime as you tried to think of something polite to say. “Thank you for welcoming me into your home. Um, your spaghetti smells really good!”

At your words, Pap’s chest swelled with pride. “OF COURSE! THE GREAT PAPYRUS IS A CULINARY MASTER! YOU SHOULD STAY AND HAVE SOME, TINY HUMAN!”

“monster food won’t do nothing for her.” Sans said and watched you with amusement as Papyrus grabbed your hand and shook vigorously, his excitement lifting you off of the ground momentarily.

“NONSENSE! HER PALATE SHOULD BE PERFECTLY CAPABLE OF APPRECIATING MY AMAZING SKILLS!”

“I-I don’t mind. I would love to try monster food.” You said hurriedly and glace at Sans, catching the upwards twitch of his smile. Turning back to the tall skeleton, you asked, “Have you ever tried human food, Papyrus?”

“NOPE!” Papyrus turned back to the stove, throwing a box of noodles into a boiling pot, and breaking half of them in the process. The cardboard wilted as it hit the boiling water.

“W-well, maybe when I come back, I can bring something for you. Do you like-” you’re words are cut short by a squeak of surprise you didn’t know you could make. Axe had finally gotten off the floor, and was standing quite close to you. Too close; his nasal ridge was inches from your lips.

“you’ll.. bring food?” he asked slowly, his voice deep like Sans’ but quiet, like he rarely used it. His breath was hot on your face and it felt like that single, red eye light of his was staring into your soul.

“Um, sure!” You nervously take a step back, but Axe matches you, remaining too close, and causing a nervous sweat to start on the back of your neck. “I’m um, not really good with main dishes, but I studied baking and pastry my first year in college, so I can make pretty good sweets. If you, um, like that sort of thing.”

“we don’t want ya back here.”

Your head turned so fast that you felt your neck crick. Standing behind you, leaning against the wall of the entryway, was another short skeleton. His red eye lights were narrowed into a glare, and his sharp teeth were twisted into a scowl. You noted that one of his top fangs was gold. He wore a black hoodie with white fur lining, unzipped so you could see his red turtleneck, and black shorts. The laces on his red sneakers were not tied. He stormed over to you and Axe backed away to hide under the table.

“ya hear me?” He growled, getting in your face just as Axe had, but instead of making you uncomfortable, this skeleton scared you, and you took a step back. A bully warning went off in your head. “we don’t want ya here, so git out!”

“Ah, don’t be such a pain, Red.”

You turned your head again, and saw another skeleton had appeared at the kitchen table. When had he gotten there? Nobody passed you, they couldn’t have, not with you and the scary skeleton blocking the archway. You glimpsed a short hall to the right of the kitchen, with a set of stairs leading down into what you guessed was the basement. Maybe he had come from that way?

This other new skeleton was tall, like Papyrus. His red eye lights flickered in a sleepy kind of way, contradicting the frightening, pointed fangs he had. He also had a gold tooth, but on his lower jaw. He wore a black hoodie with orange-yellow fur, unzipped to reveal an orange sweater, and you could just make out a pair of black sweatpants beneath the table.

“shuttup, Mutt, no one asked for yer input!”

“And no one asked for you to be an ass today, but you still do it.” The tall, golden tooth skeleton drawled in a raspy voice, pulling out a cigarette and lighter from his black hoodie. “Every day, now that I think about it.”

“NO SMOKING IN THE HOUSE!” Papyrus, if possible given his normal way of speech, yelled loudly, and flicked his spoon at Mutt, splatting spaghetti sauce all over the table. Axe eagerly leapt out of his hiding spot to clean it with his tongue.

“fuck smokin’ in the house, I don’t want a damn human in here!” Red shouted back at no one in particular.

You felt your knees begin to shake as the atmosphere in the kitchen quickly became hostile with Red’s arrival. He stormed into the kitchen, shoving you roughly out of his way to scream obscenities at Sans, who seemed bored and amused with his brother’s temper.

Being so focused on Red’s rage, you didn’t notice that Mutt had left the table, and jumped as he touched your shoulder. His fangs quirked up into a smirk, and he bent over to whisper in your ear, “Want to come outside for a bit with me? You know, see the grounds and all that?”

You nodded vigorously, thankful for an excuse to leave just as Red picked up a chair to throw. You could hear Papyrus shouting at him as you pulled on your boots and raced out the door after Mutt.

The outside was blissfully quiet and you never appreciated the dark, snowy woods more. A click sounded next to you, and you turned just in time to watch Mutt light a black cigarette. He inhaled deeply (how did he do that without lungs?) and let the purple smoke leak from his mouth and eye sockets. It smelled sweet, not like tobacco at all, and you found yourself breathing deep. It must be some kind of monster tobacco, to not stink the way you knew cigarettes did normally.

“Shall we?” Mutt gestured towards the woods with his lit cigarette. You nodded, pulling your leather jacket tightly around your shoulders.

As you slowly toured the perimeter of the immediate yard, Mutt explained to you that the house also included the surrounding 50 acres, but you wouldn’t have to do anything with that if you didn’t want to.

“So, if you don’t need to work the woods,” you asked as you stopped by the garden shed in back, hoping that you weren’t about to shoot yourself in the foot with the question, “why do you need a groundskeeper?”

Mutt studied you for a moment with his red eyelights. He flipped his spent cigarette butt into his mouth with a glowing, orange tongue and, to your disgust, ate it, before answering. “Does it look like we know how to keep a lawn? Pap cooks and Milord cleans, but that’s about it. The HOA is getting on Sans’ case for not mowing or shoveling.”

“It’s not that hard.” You mumble, wishing you could take back those words almost immediately after saying them. Catching Mutt’s grin, you say quickly, “but I want the job! I don’t mind that kind of work at all!”

“Good. I was starting to think you were trying to weasel out of it.” Mutt’s grin widened and he lit another cigarette. After taking a deep drag, he asked, “So, what do you think?”

“Well, it’s a big yard, but as long as you have the right equipment, I should manage fine.”

“Not the lawn.” Mutt chuckled, then gestured towards the big, brick house with a nod of his head. “I mean my brothers.”

“Oh! Um…” You bit your lip, wondering what to say, and if honesty was the best policy here. But if you were going to take this job, you would be living with everyone, so it wouldn’t do you any good to lie. “They seem… nice enough. I really like all of you, but I get that Red hates me, so maybe it isn’t such a good idea…”

“Nah, Red likes you.” Mutt waved your words away with a large, skeletal hand. Your mouth fell open in surprise, and he laughed at it. “I mean it. If Red didn’t like you, you’d know.”

“He tried to throw a chair at me.” You grumbled, casting a mean glare at the back window to the kitchen, where you could just make out Papyrus putting Red in a chokehold as he kicked and, judging by the red tint on his skull, yelled.

“Yeah, Red can be difficult.” Mutt nodded, following your gaze. “So can Milord and Edge. But they mostly hate each other, so you don’t have to worry about them.”

“Pap mentioned Edge.” You looked up at Mutt, a squirming feeling in your gut. “He asked Sans if it was a good idea, having me here with him.”

Mutt didn’t say anything and stared off into the trees, purple smoke leaking from between his pointed teeth. It was a long while before he said, “He’ll come around. I don’t think he can hate you for long. You’re too nice.”

“So, he does hate me? We’ve never even met...” You shuffled nervously, wondering how this Edge would act around you. You hadn't even met Edge yet, but from the way he had been talked about so far, if Red was any indication (and he supposedly liked you!) it couldn’t be good.

“Don’t worry about Edgelord.” Mutt ate his cigarette butt and lit another. “He hates everything and enjoys complaining about it. But if you want this job and move in, we’ll take care of you. Just ask any of us for help if Edge gets on your case. Granted,” Mutt exhaled, sending a plume of purple smoke up into the dead branches above, “He works a lot, so you won’t see him much outside of the weekends.”

“He works?” You asked, your curiosity ignited. “What kinds of jobs do monsters have?”

“Meh, same as humans, I guess.” Mutt smiled and held his cigarette in between his pointed teeth, then ran his fingers through your hair. You stiffened at the touch, but it didn’t seem to you like anything more than curiosity. Pap had just done something similar in the kitchen with your hand before he shook it. Skeletons, after all, did not have hair or skin, so curiosity was natural. Mutt twirled a lock of your hair between his boney fingers and said, “Edge and Milord work for the Royal Guard. I work from home, and Sans… does whatever he does for work. I’m not too sure.”

“I thought you guys were loaded.” You asked and caught Mutt’s hand before he could brush through your hair again. He doesn’t pull it away, and you cautiously pull it closer to examine. It was surprisingly warm to the touch. How did the bones stay connected, without muscle and other tissue? All of his finger bones fit together seamlessly, like magic glued it all together. With a jolt, you realized that’s what it probably was.

“Sans is. That’s how we bought this house. But just cuz the gold is there doesn’t mean we can live off it forever.” Mutt watches you closely as you gently flexed his fingers, feeling the way they moved in your own. His cigarette had gone out, and he ate that one too, but his orange tongue licked at his golden tooth thoughtfully as he caught your hand in his. “...you’re really not scared of us, are you?” 

“Oh, um,” You dropped his hand, your face flushing. “N-no, not really. Well, maybe Red… But not the rest of you! I mean, I’m curious, I admit that, so I’m sorry if I crossed any boundaries just now.”

Mutt laughed, a raspy noise that made it apparent how long he had been a smoker. His red eye lights looked back at you, holding your gaze, and then darted down to your chest to linger. You felt your flush deepen and crossed your arms to cover yourself.

“Kindness, huh?” He trailed off and stuffed his hands back into the pockets of his black hoodie. Mutt loped back towards the house without any invitation for you to follow, but follow you did, since the alternative was being left alone in the dark woods.

The inside of the house was a cacophony of activity. From what you could hear as you took off your boots (Mutt had worn his socks outside, and left a trail of snow to the kitchen) Red was still trying to argue with Sans while Papyrus was attempting to get everyone to sit for dinner.

“AH! MUTT AND THE HUMAN! YOU’RE JUST IN TIME!” Papyrus smiled broadly as you and Mutt entered the kitchen. You glanced at the table and noticed that it was set for seven. While you were counting plates, you caught a glimpse of a tall skeleton in a red hoodie sitting at the table, but before you could catch any more details, you blinked and he was gone.

Sans caught your eye and patted the open seat you had been staring at between himself and Axe, which you graciously accepted.

“that’s… Butch’s spot…” Axe said softly, his words coming out in a slow, yet deliberate, manner, his singular red light glaring at you. You shifted uncomfortably, also catching Red’s glare from across the table.

“WELL, IF HE WANTS DINNER, THERE IS ANOTHER PLACE SET FOR HIM.” Papyrus stated cheerfully as he served everyone spaghetti. You could see bits of cardboard amongst the sauce. “IT’S UNCIVILIZED TO EAT IN ONE’S BEDROOM!”

“don’t… want him hungry…” Axe mumbled to his plate. You felt your heart clench painfully. How often, when you were a kid, had you been sent to your room without dinner as punishment? The feeling was made worse when you relized that it was because Butch was shy, possibly frightened of you; not because he had done something wrong.

How often did the tables turn like that, that a monster was scared of a human?

“Pap, can I take a plate up to him?” You ask the tall chef. He watches you with a scrutinizing gaze, and you hasten to explain. “I know you think it’s uncivilized, but Butch is up there because he’s is scared of me, isn’t it? If I bring him dinner, I can try to introduce myself, and then he might see that there’s nothing to be afraid of.”

“ah, let her, Pap.” Sans caught your gaze and smiled. Then again, he might not mean anything by it, because he was always smiling. “Butch’s gotta move pasta this.”

“REALLY SANS, AT THE TABLE?” Papyrus rolled his eye lights, but still thrust a plate of spaghetti and a spoon into your hands. “YOU’RE INSATIABLE!”

“just feeling a bit saucy today.” Sans’ eye lights flickered in a way that suggested a wink, and Mutt laughed. You smiled too, appreciating the jokes, and left the kitchen with food for Butch, aware that Axe was following you out with his gaze.

You knew that Butch’s bedroom must be at the top of the stairs, that’s where you had first caught a glimpse of him, but which bedroom was his? There were six doors, all with various decorations on them, but you had no idea which one belonged to who.

“Butch?” You gently called out to the landing, examining a door with a caution sticker and tape plastered all over it. “You there? I brought you dinner…”

The landing was silent, and you were feeling slightly discouraged, when a door at the left end of the hall cracked open and you spotted a single, white eye light watching you.

“Hey there!” You must have said that a little too loudly, because the door snapped back shut. At least you knew what door was his now, and you sat outside of it with the plate of spaghetti in your hands. “It’s okay, Butch, you don’t have to come out if you don’t want to. Do you want your dinner?”

The door cracks open again and you set the plate and spoon on the floor. Quick as a flash, a skeletal hand grabs the food and drags it inside before shutting the door again. You smile. That must be progress.

You sit beneath the tall window at the end of the hall, crossing your legs, and tell Butch your name. Every word that comes out of your mouth is gentle, like you’re trying to calm a spooked horse. “I’m really glad I got to meet your brothers today. They all seem nice… except maybe for Red. But Mutt tells me he likes me, can you believe that? It kind of makes me a bit nervous about meeting Milord and Edge, but you live here just fine with them, don’t you?”

Your eyes catch a movement of shadow from the crack under the door. Butch must be leaning against it, listening to you. Feeling encouraged, you smile and continue.

“I like it here. You all are strange, but in a good way. I would like it a lot if I could work for you. Even if I don’t, would you mind if I came back to visit? I promised Pap that I would, I owe him some kind of treat for making dinner for me. Pastries are a specialty of mine. I made them all the time with my mom. When I was younger, she actually wanted me to be a pastry chef when I started college, but I only ever studied it for one year before switching my major... Do you like sweets, Butch?”

“...yes.” The voice is faint, barely discernible from behind the door, but you heard it all the same. Your smile widens.

“I know I said i would make it for Pap,” you lean against Butch’s door, so he could hear your soft voice too, “but I wouldn’t mind changing it a little bit so you like it more. It’ll be our little secret. What’s your favorite flavor?”

You hear a mumble beyond the door that you didn’t quite catch.

“What’s that?” You asked and pressed your ear against the wooden door.

“....red velvet.”

“Gotcha.” You pulled at the hem of your green sweater dress as you stood, covering your legs back up. “I’ll make red velvet cupcakes with buttercream frosting, then, so you and your brothers can each have your own cake. Sound good?”

There’s a mumble beyond the door, but you can’t make it out. You assume that Butch likes the idea.

“Alright, it’s a plan. I got to get back downstairs now, I’m sure Pap is waiting for me. It was nice meeting you, Butch.” You see Butch push his plate out from the crack under the door, completely licked clean, and the spoon with it.

As you made your way down the hall, Red crested the top of the stairs. He spots you, and you freeze, unsure of what to do or say, as he’s still radiating a bully sort of vibe. He scowls at you and stomps away down the hall opposite Butch’s room, and enters the second to last door. He slammed it shut with enough force to shake the walls.

“so? how’d it go?” Sans asked as you reenter the kitchen and put Butch’s dishes in the pristine sink.

“Well, I think.” You smile as you take a seat before your plate of spaghetti, which Axe had been eyeing hopefully. “We talked a little bit, and he ate.”

“YOU MEAN YOU TALKED AND HE LISTENED.” Papyrus sat at the table as well, watching you as you took your first bite of food. His expression was expectant. Beside him, Mutt had his skull pressed against the table and was snoozing softly.

“No, we had a small back and forth.” You wondered to yourself if the three words Butch had said really counted as conversation.

“you mean he actually spoke to you?” Sans’ eye lights widened as you took your first bite of pasta. It didn’t taste all that bad, once you chewed past the cardboard.

You nodded, trying to chew your food thoroughly so you wouldn’t choke. “I told him I was going to make a cake for Pap and he told me he likes sweets too.” You were about to add that you also knew his favorite flavor, but caught yourself just in time. That was supposed to be a secret, after all.

“well I’ll be.” Sans leaned against the table on one elbow and watched you with a strange look in his sockets.

“WELL, WHAT DO YOU THINK, HUMAN?” Papyrus asked as you finished your second mouthful of spaghetti. His expression looked almost hurt that you hadn’t said anything about his cooking sooner.

You swallow a little too quickly in your effort to spare his feelings. Your eyes watered a bit from the cardboard scratching your throat on the way down, and said, “It’s great, Pap! Thank you!”

Papyrus smiled at you fondly, an orange blush creeping onto his cheekbones. He must be taking the tears in your eyes for something else.

“I LIKE THIS HUMAN.” He said matter of factly to Sans. “WE SHOULD KEEP HER.”

“Second that.” Mutt mumbled and raised his hand halfheartedly, his face still on the table. How long had he been awake, you wonder?

“I… like her too…” Axe said from his seat by your side, his red eye light watching every move your fork made as you ate. It made you uncomfortable, to have an audience while you tried to finish your plate.

“Same…” You turned your head towards the archway, recognizing the soft voice, and saw what could only be Butch as he tried to hide behind the frame of the archway. He was tall, like Papyrus and Mutt, with soft white eye lights that watched you nervously. His teeth were jagged and broken, and he wore a threadbare red hoodie and black sweatpants.

“hello… brother.” Axe turned away from you for the first time since you started eating to smile at Butch. “...still hungry?”

“OF COURSE HE IS, HE’S ALWAYS HUNGRY!” Papyrus huffed, but still got out of his chair to fix a second plate all the same. You couldn’t help but spot the smile on his face as he turned back towards the stove, and knew that he enjoyed having someone around who couldn’t get enough of his food.

“you.. done with that?” Axe asked you as you set down your fork next to your empty plate. You shrugged, wondering if he was asking if you wanted seconds, or to take your plate to the sink. It was neither option. Axe grabbed your still saucy plate and licked it clean with his glowing, red tongue.

“If you’re still hungry,” you said slowly, not wanting to offend him, “why don’t you ask Pap for another serving?”

“don’t… waste food.” Axe mumbles from behind the plate. His determination to not waste even a drop of sauce kind of creeped you out, but it’s not like he was hurting anything. He was just strange. Maybe the brothers had fallen on hard times, before Sans had come into his gold, and that was why Axe didn’t like the thought of wasting food?

Since dinner was over, you reached into your pocket and pulled out your phone. The sky beyond the kitchen window was dark, it had been for awhile, and you hadn’t seen a clock yet since you entered the house. You checked the time, and let out a screech of despair. Papyrus and Sans jumped at the noise. Axe dropped the now clean plate in surprise, shattering it on the floor. Butch vanished completely.

“Where’s the fire?” Mutt asked sleepily, his skull jerking up from the table.

Dropping your phone onto the table, you groaned and let your head bang onto it in a spot-on impression of Mutt. “It’s past nine,” you grumbled. How had the time gone by so quickly? “The buses stop running this far at eight! And I don’t have enough cash for a cab…”

“well, that works out fine, then.” Sans pokes you in the arm and you roll over to face him. “it sounds like the majority of the house likes you, kid. there’s a room in the attic for you, if you want to try spending the night.”

“But… I haven’t met Milord or Edge yet?” You lift yourself off the table and look around the room at all the grinning skeletons. Except for Mutt, who had fallen asleep again. “And what about Red…?”

“WE’LL TALK TO THEM.” Papyrus smiled widely and moved the dirty dishes from the stove to the sink. “DON’T WORRY YOUR PRETTY LITTLE HEAD ABOUT IT.”

Sans lead you out of the kitchen, up the first flight of broad, oak stairs to the landing, and past Red’s room to the last door in that hall, then opened it to reveal yet another flight of stairs. He flicked a switch at the base and light flowed into the staircase from above. These stairs were narrow, with a high ceiling like the rest of the house, and Sans showed you up them to a spacious loft in the attic.

The ceiling slanted at sharp angles. It was like being inside a giant tent. There was a large, circular window at the far end that gave you a great view of the back yard, the woods beyond, and the star strewn sky. Currently, the only furniture was only a single, king-sized bed made with cream-colored sheets.

“it’s not much,” Sans said as you looked around the room. “just the bare bones, but it’s warm and quiet. if you end up taking the job, I can get some other furniture for you.”

“I thought I had it?” You asked and spun around, eyeing Sans with uncertainty. “The job?”

He merely shrugged and said, “you haven’t met Edge and Milord yet. you might change your mind. better get that over with first before you make your choice.”

“Well… thanks for letting me spend the night, at least.” You dropped your leather jacket onto the bed and looked around the bare room. “Do you think… could I trouble you maybe for something to wear to bed?”

Sans shrugged. “Mutt might have something that’ll fit you. ask him.”

With that, Sans slouched from the room and left you alone. You sat on the bed, taking in the bare walls of the room, wondering what to do.

Everyone you had met so far, with the exception of Red, had been so nice. Sure, Axe was a bit strange, with licking everything clean and watching you with an unyielding gaze, but he also seemed harmless. You wanted this job, yet Sans’ ominous mention of the two brothers you had yet to meet had you wondering if something about them really could change your mind.

You thought of your school, of the degree you were so close to getting, and felt yourself getting hopeful. This job would make that possible. Even if you didn’t get your dream job immediately after graduation, the pay Sans was offering you would keep you afloat for some time.

What did Mutt say, when you were outside together? That they would help you if you asked for it? Did that mean if Edge and Milord were unlikely to warm up to you, that they would protect you?

You felt a jolt of fear. You didn’t want to think that the two other brothers were the kind you needed protection from. They might be bullies, like Red, but you had faced bullies in the past, in school, and your mother taught you to never show fear and to kill them with kindness.

You felt a warmness in your chest as you fondly remembered your mother teaching you her special lessons in grade school. Learning her lessons had taken a while, but her methods always worked eventually. Even if the bullies never ended up liking you, eventually they would leave you alone. Or maybe that was your dad’s doing… You had found out in high school that he had gone to their houses and talked to their parents. If that didn’t work, he taught you how to fight back if the bullies ever got physical.

You smiled bitterly and held your jacket close, burying your face in the old leather as your eyes stung with tears brought about by the memories. Mom wasn’t around to give you advice anymore. Dad wasn’t around to protect you or pick you back up when you fell down. 

You just had to give these skeletons every reason not to hate you, and you had nothing to fear.

And you actually had a chance to live with monsters! Elation chased the blues away, making you giddy. How many humans could say that they’ve done that? In fact, you thought to yourself with a sly grin, you could use this experience as a theme for your thesis paper for Monster Studies. You laughed out loud, imagining the look of incredulity on your professors face as he read through your experiences.

You were not going to let this chance go.

The world believed monsters to be violent, dangerous individuals. But you had already met a handful of them that proved all the prejudice wrong. With stubborn pride you wondered - what would the rest of humanity say if they met Sans or Papyrus, Axe or Butch or Mutt? Their arguments just wouldn’t hold. And you had a chance to prove them wrong, and help a lot of monsters in the process, if you could push your point across with your professor and get his course objectives changed.

The first step to a change for the better would be reteaching the masses. Fear bred in the shadows of the unknown within the mind. It was like handling a phobia; it could be dealt with with proper education and gradual exposure therapy. You had more than enough experience with that yourself, but if you could apply it to help others and their fear of monsters... That could be your thesis for your major!

Excited, you bounded down the narrow staircase and flicked off the lights on your way out. If you had to find Mutt, you better do it sooner than later. You had to get to bed if you were going to be up two hours earlier than normal to catch the bus back to campus.

You were so caught up in your own thoughts that you ran headlong into one of the brothers and fell on top of them. With a jolt of horror, you looked into Red’s scowling face, his red eye lights flashing dangerously.

“the hell, woman?” he growled, roughly pushing you off him and onto the floor. “why’re ya still here? don’cha know when to leave?”

“I’m sorry!” You squeaked, jumping up and trying to help Red off the ground. He smacked your hand away and his glare intensified.

“git away from me, human!” he snarled, clearly angry that you kept touching him. You took a step back, watching red plasma manifest and surround his skeletal fingers and drip onto the floor. The smell of smoke, of wood burning, filled the air. You caught the scent in your nose and froze.

“Oh my god,” you felt a panic flutter in your chest that turned into overwhelming fear as memories flashed before your eyes, and grabbed Red’s hand, ignoring his protests and pulling him down the stairs. “FIRE! Sans, Pap, there’s a fire somewhere! Everyone get out!”

“WHAT’S THAT?” Papyrus poked his head out of the kitchen, his hands donned with rubber gloves and covered in soap. You burst into the kitchen after him, dragging a swearing Red behind you, screaming about fire. Why didn’t they understand? You all had to leave immediately!

“GIT OFF ME!” Red shouted, yanking his arm out of your grasp, the weird plasma practically gushing off him as he shook in anger. The red lights had disappeared from his sockets, leaving them completely dark.

The smell of smoke filled your nose. You couldn’t breathe, you were choking. The room was too hot, and flames were licking up the walls as surely as tears fell down your cheeks.

“HUMAN, CALM DOWN.” You heard Papyrus as if over a great distance. Something touched you and you were sure it was the house falling apart around you. You screamed and ran out the entryway, bursting through the door, and into the night.

You don’t know how long you crouched there in the snow, shivering in the cold, your heart hammering in your chest.

“You okay?”

Lifting your wet face, you saw that Mutt and Axe had come out to find you.

“There’s a fire…” your voice trembled as you spoke, fear still tight in your chest. “Everyone… needs to get out… they’re gonna die…”

“no… fire…” Axe slowly shook his head, watching you curiously with his single red light.

“He’s right.” Mutt crouched down next to you, not touching you, but concern was clearly written all over his skull. Axe was right next to him, close enough that you could see his copper colored slippers in the dark. “There’s no fire in the house. We heard your yelling and checked.”

“But… I smelled smoke.” You sniffed and wiped your running nose on the long, green sleeve of your sweater dress. “I smelled it.”

“That was Red’s magic.” Mutt started to draw out his cigarettes, seemed to think better of it, and returned them to his pocket. “You must’ve made him angry, but there’s no actual fire.”

Your entire body shook from fear and adrenaline. You turned and grabbed Mutt, pushing him back into the snow as you pulled him close to you, desperate for comfort, for something solid and calm to anchor you. Mutt tensed beneath your touch.

“I’m sorry.” You sobbed into his black hoodie, burying your face in it and breathing deep the scent of cloves to chase away the stink of wood smoke. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry.”

“For what?” Mutt said after a long while, his voice raspy. You could feel him lift his arm and his hesitation before running his bony fingers through your hair. The gentle sensation slowly calmed you. You sat like that in the snow for awhile, your arms around Mutt, letting him brush the fear away from you through your hair.

“...calm now.” Axe said slowly and crouched next to you and Mutt, his single, glowing eye light focused on your chest.

“You better go find Sans.” Mutt said to Axe. “Tell him what happened.”

“...can’t.” Axe shook his head. “left... to get them…”

Mutt cursed. “Then go make sure Red has calmed down before I bring the human back inside.”

“...Pap is…”

“Axe.” Mutt growled, irritation leaking into his voice. “Get in the house.”

You didn’t hear Axe walk away, but you knew he had gone when Mutt shimmied his hoodie off and wrapped you in it. The scent of iron lingered in the frosty air.

“Won’t you get cold?” You asked, even as your teeth chattered and your toes felt numb from the snow melting on your white stockings.

“Don’t worry about me. You’re obviously cold. You’re shaking worse than an overexcited Tem.” Mutt said gently, brushing a tear off your cheek and pulling you further into his lap. “Skeletons don’t feel cold. Or warmth, or any physical sensation, really. Except, well… nevermind that. There are other ways to feel.”

“O-oh.” You buried yourself deeper into the yellow-orange fur of Mutt’s hood, not knowing what to say to that, and letting your body rest against his. His ribs were hard beneath his orange turtleneck, but it wasn’t uncomfortable.

“So… what happened?” Mutt asked, trying to sound casual and failing. “Did Red go after you?”

You shook your head. “No, I bumped into him coming down the stairs. He got angry, and then I smelled…” You let the sentence drift away and took deep breaths to keep yourself calm.

“You smelled his magic.” Mutt spoke when it was clear you weren’t going to start screaming again, his raspy voice rumbling with anger as he said, “So he did attack you.”

“N-no!” You pushed yourself off of Mutt’s chest and looked into his red eye lights. “I… It wasn’t him. He didn’t touch me at all! I…” you mumble into Mutt’s hoodie, “I… I’m afraid... of fire.” Your face reddened with shame as you admitted your deepest fear to a monster you barely knew.

You thought you were past this. It was still hard to talk about, yes, but you hadn’t had a relapse in ages. That event had been years ago, and you had been through so much therapy to cope with the trauma. You could even be around campfires now, as long as you didn’t get too close or stand downwind. But to have that smell sprung on you so suddenly, and inside a house…

“Why fire?” Mutt asked. His raspy voice was soft, curious, you could tell he didn’t mean any harm with the question.

A great pain filled your chest as you tried to shove the memory away. “I don’t want to talk about it.”

Mutt didn’t ask any more, but he did pull you closer to him, as if he could squeeze the pain out of you.

“Does… does all monster magic smell like that?” You ask, a pang of fear running through your heart. If it did, you couldn’t be in this house. You couldn’t be around that kind of trigger constantly, risking another relapse like the one you just had every day.

“No.” Mutt pulled your head against his chest and ran his fingers through your hair again. “It’s unique to each monster. I forget that you know as little about us as we do of you.”

“That’s good.” You felt relief flood though you. “That it’s not all the same. I like you guys a lot. I really want to stay, if you’ll all have me.”

“I know most of us want you to stay.” Mutt rested his jaw on the top of your head and held you closer to him, wrapping his arms around your waist. “It’s nice, listening to your soul.”

“My soul?”

“Yeah.” Mutt nodded as you pulled away to look at him. His sharp teeth smiled gently as he ran a thumb along your cheek. “Like a little robin, twittering away. It makes that wintery old house sound like spring. We can all hear it when you’re near. If the song changes, it tells us if you’re happy or sad, or scared…”

“I… didn’t know.” You stared at the dark sky, at the galaxy of stars strewn across it, and wondered if all human souls sounded like birds. Maybe that’s why the monsters hadn’t tried to really leave Mt. Ebott yet. The noise of a city, of thousands of human souls clustered together, must be deafening. Is that why the brothers prefered their house out in the woods?

“Hey… Mutt?”

“Hm?”

“Can you not… I know it’s asking a lot,” you fiddled with a loose thread on your sweater dress, avoiding his gaze, “but can you not tell anyone else? About my fear, I mean. I don’t… I don’t want it to be a problem.”

“Why would it be a problem?”

“Red.” You said simply. “I don’t want him to think I’m scared of him, or hate him, just because of what his magic smells like. He can’t help it, can he? Just like I can’t help my soul sounding like a bird or whatever.”

Mutt looked into your eyes, his own eye lights flickering like confused blinking. “After all that, you’re worried about Red?”

“Well… yeah. I know I made him mad, and I _know_ I freaked everyone out with.. all that noise I made. Butch is probably scared of me even more now.” You looked over Mutt’s shoulder, at the dark exterior of the large, brick house and the few windows lit up with light from the inside. “We should get back in. I need to apologize to everyone.”

Mutt chuckled and stood, lifting your body with ease and carrying you back to the house bridal style.

“You really are Kindness, aren’t you?”

You thought that was a strange wordage for Mutt to use, but it was clear he was complimenting you. You wrapped your arms around his neck bones and kissed the side of his jaw. “Thanks for coming out to take care of me, Mutt. I’m sorry for freaking out like that.”

Even in the dark, you could see a burnt orange flush blossom across his nasal ridge.

Inside the warm entryway, Papyrus and Axe waited for you. Papyrus was tapping his foot impatiently, and Axe was standing extra still. Mutt set you down on the rug, mumbled something about getting you dry clothes, and disappeared into the kitchen. At the top of the stairway, looking out of the shadows of the second floor landing, you could see Butch’s white eye lights watching you.

“WELL?” Papyrus said before you could open your mouth, one of his gloved hands flying through the air in irritation. “WHAT HAPPENED, HUMAN? WE HAVE SEARCHED THE HOUSE AND FOUND NO FIRE. IF THIS IS SOME KIND OF PRANK, IT’S NOT VERY FUNNY!”

“No, it wasn’t a prank, Papyrus.” You hung your head in shame and stared at your wet stockings as you spoke. “I’m sorry, everyone. It’s my fault. I… I didn’t know what Red’s magic smelled like and thought it was something else. I didn’t know magic even had a scent. Mutt explained it all to me outside and… I’m really sorry. I didn’t mean to scare you all.”

“are… you scared… of us?” Axe asked, his head tilting to the side as he stared at you. Your head snapped up, your cheeks burning with embarrassment.

“Not at all!” Your gaze darted from one skeleton brother to the next, silently begging them to understand. “I’m not afraid of any of you! You’ve all been so nice… and I really hope what I did hasn’t ruined my chances of working for you.”

The skeletons all stared at you for a long moment. Then...

“WELL, OF COURSE YOU WOULDN’T BE SCARED OF ME!” Papyrus smiled and ruffled your hair. You smiled back, feeling like that was his way of accepting your apology. “I AM FAR TOO AMAZING TO INSPIRE FEAR! AWE AND ENVY, PERHAPS, BUT NEVER FEAR!”

Axe didn’t say anything to you, but his grin widened ever so slightly. Up on the landing, Butch poked his head out, and you could see his whole face staring down at you. You grinned up at him, and he nervously smiled back, his broken teeth turning his grin all lopsided.

Mutt strode back into the entryway, a bundle of clothes beneath his arm. He stuffed them into your hands, avoided eye contact, and then escaped into the living room to flop down face first into one of the brown couches.

“Hey...Pap?” You tugged on the tall skeleton’s red scarf, sheepishly interrupting his rant about how great he was. “Where’s the restroom? I should probably take a bath and warm up after sitting in the snow.”

Papyrus nodded approvingly and pointed up the stairs. “YOURS IS RIGHT NEXT TO THE ATTIC DOOR, ACROSS FROM RED’S ROOM.”

A warm feeling blossomed in your chest and you smiled. Maybe it was unintentional, but Pap had called the bathroom ‘yours’ and that made you happy. Pap stared down at you, his cheekbones flushing orange, and then he turned right around and went back to the kitchen. It seemed strange to be cooking this late at night, but what else would he be banging those pots around for?

You made your way quietly into the living room. Mutt was fast asleep on the couch, his snores just audible through the cushions. Deciding it might be better to not wake him, you took off the hoodie he lent you outside and covered his upper body with it. Maybe skeletons couldn’t feel cold, but he at least looked a bit more comfortable.

As you headed for the stairs, you noted that, while he hadn’t approached you, Axe had been watching you from a distance. Unblinking, unmoving, with the same expression fixed upon his skull. He hadn’t moved at all from where he stood when you apologized. Feeling slightly nervous, you climbed the stairs quickly to find the bathroom.

Butch had already disappeared from the landing. Which was fine, you reasoned. He would come to you in his own time, and it was already late. How late, you couldn’t tell, since you had left your phone upstairs, but you really needed to get to bed.

You hesitated outside of the bathroom door, your hand hovering just above the brass knob. You turned and looked at Red’s bedroom door, wondering if you should knock on it. Clutching your borrowed clothes to your chest, you stopped just outside of Red’s room, your mind debating on what to do.

“Hey, Red?” You said to the door, deciding on a halfway point in your mind. You weren’t going to knock, and possibly anger him further, but you still had to say something. 

Could he hear your soul, like Mutt said, though his bedroom door? Were you close enough? Could he tell you felt terrible about what happened, and that you wanted to make amends? That you didn’t want him to hate you? “Red, I’m… I’m really sorry.”

With nothing more to say, you turned around and into the bathroom, and drew yourself a nice, hot bath.

~~~

The bed in the attic was a little musty from lack of use, but the feather mattress was deliciously comfortable after the day you had. Nestled beneath the cream colored sheets, wearing a black t-shirt and sweatpants you had borrowed from Mutt, you fell asleep almost as soon as your wet head hit the pillows.

At some point in the middle of the night, you sat bolt upright, your chest heaving. You listened hard, unsure of what had woken you up. 

You heard it, downstairs, someone was shouting. A couple someones were shouting. Something broke. A plate? Glass? You grabbed your phone and checked the time. It was after four in the morning.

You groped for your leather jacket in the dark and pulled it on, to make you feel braver and to cover your arms. Then, as quietly as you could manage, you tiptoed across the attic towards the stairs. You had to stop a few times to roll up Mutt’s overly long sweatpants to avoid tripping, and also to help your toes feel your way so you didn’t tumble down the stairs, but you managed to find the stairwell without too much problem.

At the bottom of the narrow staircase, you pressed your ear to the closed door, listening hard.

“I DON’T CARE WHAT YOU SAY, YOU VANILLA PRICK! I DON’T WANT IT IN THE HOUSE!”

“As if anyone cares what you think, you overstuffed pompous-”

“SAY THAT AGAIN, MIDGET, I FUCKING DARE YOU!”

“listen, Edge, I tried to find someone else. she was the only one that answered the ad-”

“You think you can scare me?” A rough voice growled. “You’re pathetic! I’d rather have some disgusting human in the house than you, you vile waste of magic!”

You heard the sound of breaking glass, of a scuffle, and then the smell of damp wood leaked under the attic door and tickled your nose.

“knock it off!” You recognized Sans’ voice. He seemed so laid back and easygoing when you were around him. He must be really angry if he was shouting like that. “Edge, if you break one more window, I’m going to have to get serious.”

“HEAR THAT?” That loud, abrasive voice must belong to Edge. “THAT NOISE! HOW CAN YOU STAND IT? WHERE THE HELL IS IT COMING FROM? IT’S DRIVING ME INSANE!”

“You were always insane, you imbecile.”

You hear the sound of a scuffle again. The smell of damp wood, frost, and gasoline leaks under the attic, and you cough violently against the magic irritating your throat, trying desperately to clear your airways.

The house gets quiet.

“Edge - no!”

The attic door is ripped open and you fall back onto the steps. Before you stood the angriest skeleton you’ve ever seen. He’s tall, is wearing all black, with studded leather belts, and a red scarf tied around his neck.

The red lights in his skull vanish as he stares down at you, his sharp teeth twisting into a snarl.

“THERE YOU ARE.”

You were afraid.

Very afraid.

Too afraid to cry out, or move, or do anything except stare in horror at the monster radiating wrath and the stench of gasoline before you.

He reaches out and picks you up by the scruff of your shirt, lifting you off the floor so that he can stare into your eyes with those blank sockets of his. You could see a twin pair of deep scratches maring the left side of his face.

“YOU MADE A BIG MISTAKE COMING HERE, HUMAN FILTH.”

Behind the angry skeleton you could see Sans, Red, Mutt, and another short skeleton wearing black and a purple scarf. They seemed scared to jump in. Scared to make a move and possibly provoke your captor into violence.

The skeleton holding you twisted his hand, tightening the t-shirt around your neck and cutting off your air. You gasped for breath; grabbed the red, leather gloves of your captor and pulled at them. But he was far too strong.

His scowl turned into a sadistic grin as he watched you struggle. You kicked feebly, your eyes falling to your leather jacket.

Your dad’s voice was in your head. Fight back!

You reached out with your hands and grabbed the only part of a skeleton you thought could possibly be vulnerable - the eye sockets. You dug your fingers into them, reaching as deep as you could go, never feeling the back of his skull.

The skeleton roared with pain and threw you at the stairs.

Your back hit the steps and you cried out, crumpling as gravity dragged you to the bottom of the narrow stairwell.

The other brothers pounced. Your nose was overwhelmed with the onslaught of magic, but you could feel someone grabbing you, gently lifting you off of the stairs.

There was a feeling of pressing darkness.

Then you were someplace else.

It smelled like cloves here.

“Oh shit.” A raspy voice set you down someplace soft. “Shit shit shit!”

You blinked at the low light, the single, uncovered bulb hanging in the middle of the room. You gazed around, registering the concrete walls, the piles of dirty laundry, and a desk with a computer and chair on the far side of the room.

“Shit!”

“...Mutt?” You asked, wincing at the pain in your back as you sat up. There would definitely be bruises there.

At the sound of your voice, Mutt rushed to your side. The bulb in the middle of the room swayed as a violent crash echoed from upstairs and shook the ceiling.

The basement. That’s where you had to be.

“You okay, Robin?” Mutt asked, gently touching your face and head and shoulders. You winced again as his hands ran over your back and ribs. His sockets darkened with anger.

“I’ll be okay.” You mutter and stop his hands from removing your jacket in his search for injury. “Really. I don’t think anything is broken.”

“Why didn’t you stay in your room?” Mutt growled at you and drew up to his full, impressive height. You flinched away at the anger in his voice. “He wasn’t supposed to find you. Why didn’t you stay in your room!”

“I-I did!” You scooted away from Mutt, your fear starting to creep back at the sight of those empty sockets. “It was the magic! I just coughed and- and he found me!”

Mutt watched you, his skull tilting. He heaved a heavy sigh, and the red lights returned. He ran a bony hand over his face, stopping to pick at his golden tooth.

“I’m not mad at you.” Mutt sat at the edge of his bed, keeping his distance. “We knew Edge would be pissed about this. We were trying to get him to calm down before morning so he could meet you and… well not have this happen.”

The basement filled with the sweet scent of rot. You blinked, and saw Butch standing timidly before you, his hands fiddling with the loose threads of his red hoodie.

“found you…” he said quietly, his white eye lights darting from you, to Mutt, and back.

“What’s going on upstairs?” Mutt asked quickly.

“Edge is… restrained.” Butch looked terrified at the thought of it. “Sans… wants to see the human.”

“Now?”

Butch nodded at Mutt’s question. “just... him. ...and her.”

Mutt scowled and waved towards the door. He refused to look at you. “Well, whenever you’re ready, Robin, our dear eldest brother wants to see you.”

The stairs out of the basement brought you right into the kitchen. You looked around timidly for Sans, wondering where he was waiting for you. After the tremendous noise of the fight, the ground floor of the house seemed eerily quiet.

Sans was in the living room, lying on the couch with an arm over his face, though you could see his usual grin was still there. You cleared your throat as you sat in a squishy armchair near him. He lifted his arm just enough to glance at you out of the side of his left socket and then settled it back over his face.

“that could have gone better, huh?”

You grimaced at Sans’ casual tone and nodded. Remembering he couldn’t see you with his sockets covered, you said sarcastically, “I guess he really likes me, huh?”

Sans laughed bitterly. “if you say so, kid.”

“So… what did you want to talk to me about?”

Sans sighed. “I’m going to take you home.”

“What?” You blinked, not quite registering what he said.

“you heard me. it’s too dangerous for you. I made a mistake, letting you come here at all.”

“But… I can come back tomorrow, right?” You asked hopefully. “Maybe after Edge has calmed down, he wouldn’t mind meeting me, right?”

Sans drew his arm away from his face and sat up to look at you. You gasped, seeing the crack in his skull, spider webbing out from his right socket. His eye light had gone out on that side.

“you really think that’s a good idea?”

“Oh my god, Sans! Are you okay?!” You jumped out of your chair towards him, wincing as your back pained you.

“I’ll be fine.” Sans’ grin fell, his remaining eye light noticing your flinched movements. “Pap will heal me up in the morning. but his magic won’t work on human injuries. you need to go home.”

“But, what about the job offer?”

“are you stupid?” Sans frowned. “or did you hit your head on the stairs, too?”

“Why can’t I stay?” You sat on the couch next to Sans, on his uninjured side, so he could see you. “I thought you all liked me. Except for Edge… and maybe Milord…. But I like all of you! Just because one of you hates my guts doesn’t mean I should run and hide.”

“you could have died, kid. you can’t be here.”

“I don’t care. If you guys will have me, I want to stay.” You cross your arms stubbornly. “Mutt told me that Edge would come around eventually, and I believe him.”

“you really did hit your head.” Sans scrutinized you with his good eye light. “you just met us all today. why would you want to stay? you barely know us.”

How could you answer that? Was it crazy to say that you had already become invested in this strange group of monsters? Would it be rude to tell Sans that you have had to fight fear before, and refused to let it rule you? Or was it that you were being selfish, and really wanted to be part of a family again, after you had lost your own so long ago?

“Well, I still want the job.” You stood up from the couch and brushed the wrinkles out of your borrowed clothes. Sans followed you with his single eye light, silently judging you. “You shouldn’t be going anywhere with that injury, Sans. You need to stay here and rest. I’ll spend the rest of the night here, then head back to my school in the morning on the bus. Talk it over with the others. If you decide you don’t want me after that, then fine.”

Without waiting for a response from Sans, you climbed back up the many stairs and back into bed, wincing as you rolled onto your back.


	2. Ch 2 - Acceptance

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oof, I had to work pretty hard to get this one out so soon, but here it is! for the future, i won't be able to get these chapters out within days of each other like these first two, so please expect them every other week or so. Thanks for reading!

You stared at your phone beneath your desk, your mood sour as you refreshed your email only to find it empty - again.

It had been four days since you left the house full of skeletons.

Coming back to campus, to the human city nestled at the base of the mountain, had been a relief… at first. Returning to class the next day had been a terrible experience - you were overtired, in a lot of pain. That night, when you looked in the mirror before your shower, you could see dark blue splotches covering what soft skin remained on your back; the rest were purple and black.

The sight made you seriously consider what Sans had told you the night before you left. That you didn’t belong at that house. That it was dangerous; that you could be killed.

But the house of skeletons was not easily forgotten. Running your fingers through your hair reminded you of Mutt and his comfort when you were afraid. The blinking red light on your alarm clock reminded you of Axe and his curious stare. The cafeteria that night even had an italian theme, and you couldn’t help but think of Pap when you walked in and smelled the tomato sauce on the air.

Lost in your thoughts, it was only after you sat down for your lonely dinner that you realized you had grabbed a spoon to eat with. You smiled bitterly, thinking of Butch and his gentle shyness, and pulled out your phone to message Sans.

**Can I come back tomorrow? I want to see you guys.**

He never replied to you that night, or the next morning.

Over the four days you remained on campus, you had sent email after email to Sans, asking if you could come back. His resolute silence was irritating. Every moment that passed without his reply sent your mind whirring. It was obvious he didn’t want you to come back, but he hadn’t resolutely told you no. Was he still talking things over with his brothers? How long would that take? You constantly scrolled through your phone in class, refreshing your email over and over, even though you knew that it was unlikely to change.

“...and so, knowing that a phobia is an irrational fear and avoidance of something, regardless of the patient’s understanding that said subject might cause them no harm, demonstrates the mind’s capability of overpowering rationality in favor of survival instinct. When dealing with patients that are struggling with these fears...”

Your eyes glaze over as you watch the slides on the huge wall of the lecture hall, each one giving the main bullet points of your topic that day for your Abnormal Psychology class: phobias. This was one topic you feel like you didn’t need to pay too much attention to, since you had personal experience with it.

Avoidance and irrational fear…. 

Sans was definitely avoiding you. And you… you felt fear when you thought of Edge. You still shook slightly when you closed your eyes and saw his red, leather gloves reaching for you in the dark, but… it wasn’t irrational. It wasn’t consuming or overpowering or debilitating. You felt the fear, but you knew that you could act over it, overcome it, and conquer it.

He only hurt you. It could have been much worse.

He was a monster, a being physically superior to humans in every way, and brimming with magic to boot. He could have killed you, easily, if he really wanted to. Edge could have snapped your neck, shoved you through a brick wall, or drowned you with his magic that stank like gasoline. But he didn’t. 

That thought ate at you. He hurt you, yes, but he didn’t try to kill you. The pain you were in from him throwing you was nothing; you had been through far worse in the past.

Why had he been so angry? He had never met you before, so he had no reason to hate you so much. Was it because you were a human? If that were true, then it seemed that monsters had prejudice against humans, just like humans had for them. That wasn’t right. You would never hurt a monster.

Was Edge… was he scared of you? Did he lash out at you because of fear instead hiding from you like Butch? How could the creatures of the world learn to live together if they didn’t face their fears?

And the other brothers… they all protected you. Sans and Red and Mutt and Milord. (Who else could the skeleton with the purple scarf have been?) They jumped in once you forced Edge to let you go, and got you to safety. That meant they liked you, right?

Just because one of them had given you a scare didn’t mean that you should avoid everyone. If you were going to give it to fear, you would have done that a long time ago.

When you compared them in your mind, you would rather deal with Edge than a fire any day of the week.

Your thumb ran over the old leather of your jacket. Your dad wouldn’t have wanted you to run away from something great because of one little spook. Your mom wouldn’t have wanted you to give up on friends just because of one bully.

Because that’s what you thought of the brothers; they were your friends. You had only known them a day, but they had grown on you so much. They were kind, and weird, and loud, and shy, but you cared about them. Not knowing if you were ever going to see them again hurt more than the bruises on your back.

It was time that you did something about that.

The professor of your abnormal psych lecture, a stern looking woman in glasses, dismissed you, and you grabbed your backpack and slung it over your shoulders, wincing as the heavy books hit your bruises.

You had one day out of the week where classes ended before noon. One day that you could make it out to Mt. Ebott and have more than enough time to visit and get back before the buses stopped running, and that day was a Friday. The weekend was for studying, and you’ll be damned before you let your grades fall.

Before heading to the bus stop, you stopped by your dorm room to make sure you had all your homework with you and a change of clothes. Just in case you got stuck out there again and had to spend the night. It wasn’t ideal, you remembered Mutt telling you that Edge didn’t work on the weekends and you were terrified of meeting him again, but you were determined to get that job. Determined to, at some point, face Edge again, and start over. You had already turned down interviews from the other positions you had found before the groundskeeping ad. You weren’t going to let this opportunity go until Sans ripped it out from under you.

You straightened your purple sweater dress, pulled up your black stockings, and zipped your leather jacket. You grabbed the large box of cupcakes you had made the night before off your desk and carefully balanced it in one hand to lock the door to your dorm room. 

You hadn’t forgotten your promise to Papyrus, or your secret promise to Butch. You intended to keep them both. You had never broken a promise before, and you weren’t going to start now.

Some of the freshmen in the commons area approached you hopefully, recognizing that you had food and, when you declined to give them any, asked where the party was at.

“It’s for my employers, sorry.” You smiled warmly at them in apology and they dispersed.

Your backpack hung heavily, and somewhat painfully, on your shoulders as you waited in the cold for your bus. Other passengers gave you strange looks because of the large box you brought on, but you ignored them. Determination was boiling in your gut, and you could care less what some strangers thought. You would get that job today, one way or another. At the very least, you would keep your promise to your friends.

Two hours later and you were hiking up the snowy road towards the green sign bearing the number 66, taking care not to tilt the box and ruin all your hard work.

Then again, you giggled to yourself as you made your way up the snowy drive, Axe would just lick all the frosting off of the box anyways.

With the front door so close, you felt your nerves stirring up again, testing your resolve. What if they didn’t want to see you? What if Sans got angry and kicked you out? What if Red was the one to answer the door, angry at the sight of you and leaking magic?

Taking a deep breath, you reached out to knock, but the door opened before you could even touch it. Mutt stood in the way, an unlit cigarette in his mouth, staring at you.

“Robin?” his raspy voice leaked surprise, and his red eye lights darted towards the box in your arms. “I thought I heard… but you weren’t coming back? Sans said you weren’t. Not after...”

“Well, he never told me about that.” You smiled and cradled the box to your chest. “Besides, I couldn’t _not_ come back. I made a promise to bring you all cake, remember? I keep my promises.”

Mutt stepped back, allowing you into the entryway, his red eye lights watching you all the while, his cigarette hung limply between his fangs. You gave him the box to hold while you took off your boots and draped your leather jacket over the heavy backpack you dropped on the floor. Your shoulders ached in their relief from the weight.

When you look up from your things, Axe is standing too close in your personal space with a vacant grin stretched across his skull. Rather than being creeped out, you’re excited to see him again. ...Okay, you’re still a little creeped out, but it doesn’t bother you as much as it first did. “Hey, Axe! You should go get Butch, I brought cake for everyone. I’ll bring it to the kitchen, okay?”

Axe’s vacant smile widens and he vanishes in the blink of an eye, leaving only the scent of iron behind.

You take the box from a dumbstruck Mutt and make your way into the pristine kitchen. Papyrus is not there, which surprises you. You set the box down on the vast table and turn to see Axe and Butch standing close behind you, the lights in their sockets dancing with excitement. Mutt had meandered in from the hall and was staring at you as he leaned on the archway, still with that shocked look on his skull.

Humming to yourself, you opened the box and presented your beautifully made cupcakes to your small audience. Two dozen handmade treats, enough for each brother to have three, if they all wanted them. You silently hand Axe and Butch their cake and watch them open their jaws and devour the treats whole. It amazed you to watch your work disappear into the void inside their jaws, tin and all, and you wondered where it could possibly go. Did skeletons have some kind of invisible stomach?

“Want one?” You offered a cake to Mutt, which he gingerly took and stared at.

“Why’d you come back?” Mutt asked finally, watching you hand off second cakes to his eagerly waiting brothers.

“I told you that, didn’t I?” You smiled and close the lid on the box, watching Axe and Butch out of the corner of your eye in case they tried to steal more when you weren’t looking. “I made a promise. And since Sans hasn’t been answering any of my emails, I wanted to come out and see if I still had that job.”

“yer a fuckin’ idiot for comin’ back.”

You turned and found Red leaning against the sink, his arms crossed over his chest and a scowl on his face.

“didn’t ya learn the first time?” Red growled, his red eye lights narrowing at you. “boss’ll kill ya next time he sees ya.”

“You mean Edge? He could have killed me the first time, but he didn’t. I think we just got off on the wrong foot.” You smiled and pulled a cake out from the box to offer to Red. He glares at it like the frosting just insulted his mother.

“stop actin’ like yer so tough!” Red smacked the cake out of your hand and it fell to the floor. Axe and Butch raced towards it. Red stepped forward and thrust a bony finger in your face, demanding your complete attention. “yeh think yer some kind of hot shot, coming back here? yer scared! we could all hear yer soul screeching from the driveway!”

“So what?” You smack Red’s finger away and got in his face back, leaning until your nose was an inch from his nasal ridge, feeling defiance swell in your chest. You were _not_ going to let him bully you away, not when you had come this far! He backed into the sink at your sudden approach. “I’m scared of one of you. One! But I want to change that. I _will_ change that! I like the rest of you, and I’m not going to let my fear of one individual stop me from seeing everyone else! I’ve been ruled by fear before and I hated every moment of it. Never again! I’ve had days to think on this, Red, and I’ve made up my mind. Even if I don’t end up working for you, I still want to see my friends!”

Red’s eye lights darted away from your hard gaze, even as his nasal ridge flushed crimson and he muttered, “yer a fuckin’ idiot.”

“So you tell me.” You huffed and went back to the box of cake. “Do you want one or not, Red? Otherwise I’m going to eat it.”

Red doesn’t move, so you stuffed the cake into his bony hand before turning back to Mutt. The tall skeleton had taken a seat at the table and was licking the frosting experimentally with his orange tongue while he watched your exchange with Red.

“It’s okay if you don’t like it, Mutt. Buttercream is pretty sweet.” You smile at him and take a cake for yourself. Edge didn’t need a third cake, not after what he did, and you felt a thrill of excitement at this small act of petty revenge. Taking a seat yourself, you noticed that Red had vanished from the kitchen, and had apparently taken his treat with him. Where had he gone to? You didn’t smell his magic... 

You shrugged and took a bite of your hard work, wiping a dollop of frosting from your nose. Noting the watchful eyelights of Axe and Butch, you lick it off the back of your hand. You swallow your cake and ask them, “So, where’s Pap?”

“upstairs.” 

Sans is frowning at you from the archway, his hands stuffed into the pockets of his blue hoodie. He looked more like his brother Red than ever, without his usual smile, but the crack in his skull had been healed and both of his white eye lights were narrowed at you. “why are you here? I told you not to come back.”

“I sure didn’t get any email saying that.” You shrugged and took another bite of cake, the red velvet staining your lips as you internally bristled at Sans. The week’s worth of irritation towards him hummed beneath the surface of your mind, but you managed to keep your voice calm as you said, “As a matter of fact, I didn’t get any emails at all. Had to come all the way out here on a one way, two hour bus trip, to find out if I still had a job. Do I still have it?”

“no, you don’t.”

“Did you decide that?”

“obviously.”

“I thought you said your brothers made that choice?” You said matter-of-factly and took another bite, aware that your irritation was creeping into your tone. You knew you were being rude, but you were annoyed that you had been ignored for so long. Through your mouthful of frosting, you mumbled, “At least, that’s what you told me when I came for my interview. You just signed the paperwork, remember? Even if I don’t have a job, I can still come see my friends, can’t I?”

“Robin…” Mutt uttered, his raspy voice filled with warning as he glanced at Sans. The short skeleton’s lights had disappeared from his sockets.

“Just give it to her, vanilla.”

You turned around to find the source of the new, cold voice. Standing stock straight near the stove, in black leather pants and a leather military jacket, was the short skeleton you had seen the night Edge attacked you, one you had yet to officially meet. He had a purple scarf tied around his neck and a long scar running over his left socket. His purple eye lights looked you up and down, assessing you.

“I didn’t ask for your input, Milord.” Sans grumbled.

“Don’t care.” Milord shrugged, his eye lights still watching you as he spoke to Sans. “You’d be too lazy to ask for it, anyway. But I know about our current situation. You’d be hard pressed to find anyone, monster or human, with enough backbone to fight back against Edge and still have the nerve to come back afterwards. An unexpected combination, with a soul like hers. I was expecting a timid little doormat from what you first told me.”

You blinked in confusion. Was Milord complimenting you, or insulting you?

“not gonna happen.” Sans growled at Milord. “I don’t want her here.”

“You know as well as I do what’s at stake.” Milord crossed the length of the kitchen in quick, measured strides, and clicked the heels of his boots together once he was standing before Sans, matching his dark gaze with his own icy stare. “I don’t like it either, but I’m tired of making excuses for your slothful nature. It’s a wonder you get anything done at all. You told the human we all decide? Fine. Let’s take a vote. Despite my own misgivings, I say yes.”

“...us too.” Axe added quietly. By his side, Butch nodded his head, though his white eye lights flicked nervously between Sans and Milord, and his bony hands pulled at the loose threads in his red hoodie.

“That makes three.” Milord’s cold voice stated, his purple eye lights flickering towards his brothers. He watched Mutt expectantly, waiting for an answer. With a sideways glance at Sans, Mutt nodded. “Four, with the mongrel’s input. And your loudmouth brother wouldn’t shut up about the human, so his position is obvious. That makes five, and the majority. The human stays.”

“no!” Sans’ left socket lit up with a pale blue plasma, and the smell of damp wood filled the kitchen. “I’m not having any more incidents like that one!”

“Then let the other idiots take care of her.” Milord clenched and unclenched his fists, leaking the smell of frost to mingle with Sans’ magic, and gestured over his shoulder. “Surely their combined incompetence can handle that? They can be her caretakers. I’m sure as hell not doing it. Nor am I taking on any more responsibility for this house. Not when I already have to clean up after all seven of you slobs. So give her the damn job!”

You glanced nervously between Sans and Milord, feeling the mounting tension sparking between them and wanting to say something, but not doing so out of fear of breaking the silence and causing them to fight.

“fine!” Sans threw up his hands in defeat, spinning on the spot and stamping away into the entrance hall. “then _you_ deal with Edge next time he decides to murder someone!”

And then he was gone.

“Hmpf.” Milord scowled and examined his leather gloves, then polished the tips of his fingers on his jacket. Without looking at you, he said, “Make sure you do your work, human. Don’t make me regret this.”

Then he was gone, too.

You sat at the table, half eaten cupcake still in your hand, your jaw opened in astonishment. The scent of damp wood and frost still lingering around you. You had wanted the job, yes, but you didn’t want to get it like this. Not with an argument and a vote. You had returned to the house with a plan to win everyone over, but now it seems as though Sans thoroughly disliked you because you came back. Then you were stupid enough to antagonize him. And Milord… he had pretty much single handedly gotten you hired, but he didn’t seem very happy about it. Maybe you shouldn’t have come back so soon… maybe another few days would have been better...

“I’m dreaming.” Mutt slowly stood up from the table and walked towards the basement stairs in a daze, his hand cradling his skull. “Little Robin coming back, Sans acting like Red... Milord defending a human? Definitely dreaming. I shouldn’t have drank that steak sauce before bed.”

Mutt meandered down the basement stairs and out of sight, still mumbling to himself, leaving you alone with Axe and Butch.

“....can we have more?” Butch asked softly, pointing at the box and snapping you out of your own daze.

“Those are for everyone.” You mumbled, watching Butch’s crooked smile fall with guilt bubbling in your stomach. With a glance at Axe, you tear the remains of your cupcake in half, divide the frosting as best you can, and hand them each a share. As you watched them devour your leftovers, you licked the crumbs from your fingers and said, “I made three for everyone, but... that was one of Edge’s. Don’t tell him. But if he complains, tell him I ate it. You guys still have one cake left each. Do you want to save it for later?”

Axe and Butch simultaniously shook their skulls. You caved at their expectant looks and pulled more cake from the box. Axe ate his immediately, but Butch’s face broke out in that crooked smile of his and he softly thanked you before dropping the cake between his broken teeth.

You felt your heart warm at his words. Now you know how Papyrus felt whenever Butch came after him for second helpings. “Well, if they’re not all gone by midnight, then you two can divide what’s left between you so none of them go to waste. That okay?”

The two brothers nodded and, having finished their cake, simply stood there and watched you. Their unyielding gazes made you slightly uncomfortable, but you knew Axe was just weird like that. Butch seemed to take after him… Why did they watch you like that?

Maybe they were just waiting for you to leave the box unattended. Or maybe they were waiting for Pap to come and start dinner?

The warm feeling faded as you thought of Papyrus. Should you find him, bring him his cake, and tell him that you were staying? But the other brothers had known you were here; they could hear your soul, according to Red and Mutt. So if Pap hadn’t come down yet, maybe he didn’t want to see you. Your heart twinged at the thought. You had been so sure he was one of the brothers that liked you.

“why… are you sad?” Axe asked slowly, his skull tilting to the side as he watched you with his single red light. “did you… change your mind?”

You shake your head. “No, I’m staying if I can, Axe. I just feel like I made a lot of your brothers angry by coming back.”

“...you mean Sans?” Butch asked quietly and sat on his feet, watching you for a reaction. 

“That’s one of them, for sure.” You nodded.

“...not mad.” Butch shook his head. “...not at you. ….he’s scared. ...for you.”

“Because of Edge?”

“You’re...weak.” Axe poked your arm, his bony finger bouncing against your arm through your purple sweater dress. “Humans… break easy. ...don’t mix well... with monsters. ….accidents…”

“Accidents?” You straighten in your chair and focus on Axe. “What kind of accidents?”

“...your souls are strong.” Butch said softly, his white eye lights drifting down to stare at your chest. “but… so is monster magic. ...we could... really hurt you… if we’re not careful.”

“I don’t think any of you guys would try and hurt me.” You said, earning a shy smile from Butch, and a disbelieving tilt of the skull from Axe. “Okay, maybe Edge is an exception, but the rest of you wouldn't, right?”

“...you are kindness.” Butch reached out and gently pressed his finger to your chest. “...we don’t want to hurt you.”

You looked down and put a hand over the place Butch had touched. “You’re talking about my soul, aren’t you?”

Butch nods, a grey flush creeping over his cheekbones. “....many kinds exist… but I like kindness best. ...very gentle.”

You feel your own face flush at those words and stare at your box of cake to hide it. “I’ll try to live up to that, then. Thanks, Butch. ...Butch?”

You looked around the kitchen for him, but the quiet skeleton had vanished, leaving only the sweet smell of rot behind. The only one left was Axe, and he was perfectly happy standing there staring at you. Several moments of silence passed where you just sat there, watching him watching you. He did not seem like he was going to continue the conversation.

Getting up from the table, you left the kitchen to seek out your backpack, the idea of homework your mind. If you waited long enough in the kitchen, you would eventually see Papyrus, and you wanted to talk to him very much. 

Axe followed you into the entrance hall. You turned and stared right back at him, wondering if he was planning on doing this all day and you asked him as much. He shrugged.

“Don’t you have something you’d rather do?”

“...nope.” His vacant grin widened, and you sighed. You would not be able to concentrate on homework if Axe was going to stare at you while you studied. But you didn’t want to sit around and do nothing...

“Well, can you show me where the shovels are?” You asked, a hand on your hip. If you couldn’t do schoolwork, then you were at least going to start your job duties. Milord had argued for you and, despite his condescending tone, you owed him that much.

“...yes.” 

You stared at Axe, waiting for him to move. When he didn’t you asked, “...will you show me? Now?”

“....yes.” Axe reached out and took your hand, and you felt a compressing darkness surrounding you. 

You appeared in the backyard by the shed where you talked with Mutt… standing ankle deep in snow in your stockings and enveloped in the scent of iron.

“Axe!” Your hands flew up to your arms, already feeling the bite of the winter air despite the sweater dress. “I meant walk me there! Take me back, take me back!”

“...okay.”

And then you were standing in the entryway, your feet covered in quickly melting snow.

“Dammit, Axe!” You groaned as you dug through your backpack in search of a dry pair of stockings. “I didn’t mean ‘now’ like that! Why didn’t you let me put on my boots and jacket first?”

“...then why... did you ask for ‘now’... if you wanted to wait?”

You rolled your eyes and dug further into your backpack. On top of being a little weirdo, Axe was also super literal. Great. 

“Dammit,” you cursed, not able to find any stockings in your bag. Just another sweater dress, this one a sea blue color.

“did I… do something wrong?” Axe tilted his skull, his single red eye light wavering. Your eyes glanced at the hole in it, and you felt your anger fade.

“No, Axe, it was my fault.” You sighed. 

You couldn’t be angry at him. His weirdness wasn’t hurting anyone. Sure, his literal nature was a bit annoying, and his quiet staring could be a bit unnerving, but those weren't malicious traits. You just had to make sure you were clear with what you said to him in the future. 

Making a mental note to be careful with your phrasing, you said, “I need a change of stockings and didn’t bring a spare. Do you think Mutt will let me borrow his sweatpants again?”

“...probably.”

“Okay…” you thought quickly, choosing your words carefully so that you wouldn’t hurt Axe’s feelings. “Will you go tell the others about the cake and tell them it’s from me? If they don’t want any, then you can share with Butch early.”

Axe’s grin widened. “...okay.”

In the blink of an eye, he was gone, leaving only the smell of iron behind.

As you made your way to the kitchen and, through it, to Mutt’s basement bedroom, you made another mental note that if you ever wanted to get Axe to leave you alone, all you had to do was bribe him with food.

Your back pained you the whole way down the stairs. Maybe shovelling wasn’t such a great idea, but you had to do your job if you expected to keep it. At least Mutt was asleep on his bed, snoring away. If you were quick and quiet, maybe you could change down here, and not have to climb all the way to the second floor bathroom for privacy.

With a paranoid, double glance over your shoulder towards the sleeping Mutt, you pulled a random pair of sweatpants from amongst the many piles and started to slowly strip off your thick, black leggings. As your fingers brushed against the distorted flesh beneath the fabric, your heart pounded with fear of being discovered and you practically ripped them off, desperate to cover yourself.

“...what are you doing?”

You froze in horror at the sound of Mutt’s voice. Whipping around to face him, you tried your best to hide your legs with his sweatpants, your face burning. He was still lying on the bed, but his face was turned towards you and the beginnings of a blush tinted his nasal ridge.

“N-nothing!” you quickly stammered, “I just n-need some pants. Axe got mine all wet.”

“Oh, really? And what were you two doing?” His eye lights sought out the skin you couldn’t cover just by holding the fabric in front of you. They roamed over you, focusing on the scars you couldn’t completely hide… and the red lights faded from his sockets.

“Don’t look at me!” You squealed in fright, throwing the sweatpants at Mutt’s skull and covering his face. You practically dived into the pile on laundry, just managing to cover yourself before Mutt could lift his hands.

He slowly removed the fabric from his sockets, his pointed teeth frowning at you, but his eye lights were back and flickered softly at you, at your chest. “I hear you… But what happened to your legs?”

“Please,” you practically sobbed and pulled the clove scented laundry closer to you, “please, just look away! Turn around and don’t look back until I say it’s alright!”

Mutt’s red eye lights narrowed suspiciously, but he turned around and stared at the concrete wall next to his bed.

You leapt out of the laundry pile, grabbed the black sweatpants, and attempted to cover yourself as fast as you could. In your haste you tried to put both your legs through one hole and ended up falling over onto the concrete floor. Cursing to yourself, you right your wrong and sat on the ground. Panting heavily, but fully covered once more.

“Okay, you can look now.” You said once your heartbeat went back to a somewhat normal pace. Your face still felt like it was on fire, and you avoided Mutt’s gaze as he turned back to face you.

“So… are you going to tell me what happened?” Mutt asked slowly and pulled out a black cigarette from the pack in his hoodie.

You shook your head. “I don’t want to talk about it.”

His hand paused halfway in bringing the cigarette to his teeth. “Is this… related to the thing I’m not supposed to talk about?”

Unable to bring the word to your mouth, you nod once.

“Alright then.” Mutt stood up and offered you his hand, his unlit cigarette clamped gently against his golden tooth. “Want to come outside with me?”

“I don’t want to talk about it.”

“...I wasn’t asking you to.” 

You suspiciously glanced at Mutt’s bony hand, hesitating. If he really wasn’t going to ask, if he was really going to leave it alone... You took his hand and let him help you to your feet.

The smell of cloves drifted in the air and Mutt was gone with the blink of an eye. He had left you alone to climb the stairs, to come outside at your own pace. A sigh of relief escaped your lips and you silently thanked him for the moment alone. It gave you a chance to breathe, to release your anxiety, and to shove your painful memories down into the back of your mind. 

The kitchen was empty when you finally reached it, though the box containing your cakes had been ripped apart. A small smile tugged at your cheeks. Butch and Axe seemed to have enjoyed them, but you hoped Papyrus had gotten to try at least one.

Even if he didn’t, you thought as you pulled on your coat and boots and stuffed the extra sweatpant material into them, you supposedly lived here now. If the brothers wanted you to, you would bake for them every day. Pap could try as many different kinds of human desserts as he wanted… as long as he let you try his monster food. Axe and Butch would probably be delighted to eat anything that was left over.

Mutt didn’t say anything to you once you came outside. Since you also had nothing to say either, you trudged through the snow to the shed out back and dug around for a shovel. 

He watched you the entire time you moved the snow from the winding drive, smoking cigarette after cigarette, letting the purple smoke leak from his mouth and eye sockets instead of blowing it away.

You really underestimated how long it would take you to shovel the length of the drive. Since you didn’t know where the edges were, you kept finding yourself shovelling over dirt and had to backtrack to map out the curving path based on the clearing of trees. It didn’t help that there was mounts of leaf litter covering the pavement. You definitely had your work cut out for you. This place was going to be quite the project come spring.

Though you had arrived at the house just after midday, the sky was already starting to darken and you weren’t even halfway done. Wiping the sweat from your brow, you returned to the door. Mutt was still standing there in his orange socks, watching you quietly. ...No, he wasn’t. You couldn’t believe it, but Mutt had fallen asleep standing up, and was snoozing against the wall.

Another brother had joined him on the step, and this one really was watching you.

“Hey, Milord.” You panted as you dragged the shovel behind you.

“Your methods are shoddy.” Milord grumbled through his pointed teeth and crossed his arms over his leather military jacket, his purple eye lights looking down the drive. No doubt he was looking at the places you accidentally ventured off the path, or flung dirt all over the snow. “Nor are you done. Get back to work.”

“I was going to finish tomorrow.” You leaned the shovel against the brick wall, just below a silver plaque bearing the number 66 in black paint. “It’s getting too dark to see, and there aren’t any outdoor lamps.”

Milord scoffed. “Laziness, is what that sounds like. You should have worked faster to get it done in time. Typical human… what do we pay you for?”

“So far, you haven’t paid me at all.” You winced at you stretched your sore back. “Don’t worry, Milord, I promise I’ll get it all done tomorrow and do my best to make it look nice. I’m grateful you helped change Sans’ mind. But right now, I’d like to go inside and start one of my essays before dinner. Or maybe I should relax. My back is killing me and-”

“You should have thought of your injuries before you returned here. It’s not my problem if your pathetic back is causing you pain.” Milord’s purple eye lights narrow at you, travelling up and down as he examined you. “I should have guessed your weakness would impact your performance. You’re worse than the mongrel.” He glared at the still snoozing Mutt out of the side of his eye sockets. “And here I was hoping that your work ethic was better than your deplorable excuse for cooking.”

You bristled, anger quickly rising. It usually took a lot to make you mad, but that was your mother’s recipe he was bashing. One that you had made countless times growing up, that you had spent many Sundays working hard in the kitchen under her guidance to get right.

“Say whatever you want about me,” you growled, stomping forward and getting in Milord’s face, just like you had done with Red earlier that day, “but don’t you dare - _don’t you dare_! - insult that recipe! No one is going to force you to eat my cooking, so keep anything you have to say about it to your damn self!”

The light vanished from Milord’s sockets, his fangs twisted into a scowl, and the smell of frost sharpened on the air. You knew he was angry and felt a pang of fear, but your own anger cemented your feet in place and gave you the nerve to stare back into the dark voids in his skull.

For several long moments nothing happened. 

A breeze passed by and rustled the barren limbs of the trees around the house.

“If you’re going to eat with us,” Purple lights slowly returned to Milord’s sockets, bringing a lavender blush with them across Milord’s nasal ridge. “Make sure you wash that stink off you. I don’t want to lose my appetite.”

He turned on his heel and went back inside the house, slamming the door in your face.

“Unbelievable!” You huffed and threw your hands up in the air in frustration. “First he helps me, then he insults me? What did I do wrong?”

You hear the sound of a lighter and turn. Mutt was awake again, a lit cigarette nestled against his golden fang, and putting his pack away in the pocket of his black hoodie.

“I’m sorry, did we wake you?” You asked, immediately feeling the anger drain away and replaced with one of worry. If Mutt was tired enough to fall asleep against a wall, he shouldn’t have come outside. He _definitely_ shouldn’t have been standing in the snow all this time with his feet in just his orange socks. Did monsters get sick? “Are you feeling okay?”

“Maybe Robin isn’t a good nickname for you.” He said evasively and breathed out a plume of purple smoke. “Falcon might fit better… or Eagle.”

You can’t help but chuckle at the slyness in his raspy voice. The smell of clove surrounded you as the wind brought Mutt’s smoke across the step. “I’m not a bird, Mutt. Least of all a bird of prey. But I like the nickname ‘Robin’.”

“Yeah, that’s what you sound like most of the time.” Mutt grinned at your good humor, the light from his cigarette winking off his gold tooth. “But when you stand up for yourself like that… Eagle fits a lot better.”

A laugh escaped you as you imagined what that must be like for the brothers. One minute, birdsong, then the next, the screeching of a bird of prey. It made you feel kind of bad. “I bet all that sound from my soul gets really annoying, huh? That eagle noise must be particularly abrasive.”

“Nah. That one’s pretty sexy, actually. ”

You feel your face flush with heat and avoided looking at Mutt, who also had a dusting of burnt orange across his cheekbones.

“S-so,” you stuttered, desperately wanting to change the subject, “Do you know why Milord stood up for me and helped me stay? Cuz it kind of seems like he doesn’t think much of me.”

Mutt hummed thoughtfully and flipped his spent cigarette butt into the void of his mouth. “You impressed him, standing up to Edge like that.”

“Then why did he say all those things to me?” You added quickly, remembering that Mutt might have been asleep during that conversation, “Why did he insult me so much? He’s worse than Red.”

“Neither of them are good with their words.” Mutt shrugged, the yellow-orange fur of his hoodie waving in the cold breeze.

“I wouldn’t say that. Milord seems pretty articulate.”

Mutt laughed and stared up at the darkening sky. “I mean expressing themselves with words. They both like you, Robin, they’re just not good at telling you about it. If you don’t believe me, think about what they’ve done so far, and you might see it.”

You stared up at the sky with Mutt, at the first of the stars just starting to dot the navy blue, and thought back on the short time you’ve had at this house so far. 

Red had been hard to meet, yes, but you remember him being there to defend you when Edge cornered you on the stairs. Didn’t he also try to warn you when you came back today, in his own crude manner, of the potential danger of staying? Of what might happen with meeting Edge again? And he had taken your cake with him when he disappeared…

And Milord… he had also been there that night. He had then changed Sans’ mind and, while his words about your work had hurt, they could also be seen as warnings about what kind of effort you were making. His remarks had stung, but if you didn’t do a good job, Sans might fire you. Then there was his comment about your cake. Remembering his jab made anger simmer in your stomach, but he had tried it, hadn’t he?

What in the world could have happened to Red and Milord, to cause them to say such terrible things but then to act so differently? It was like they were emotionally stunted. Like how children from neglectful parents never quite learned how to say the right thing after they grew up. Even though they tried so hard to be kind in their own way, it just never came out right.

Your hand drifted down and picked at the black fabric over your legs. It should have been so obvious to you. How had you not realized it before? These monsters were hiding scars, just like you. Some might have visible ones, but you knew that there were emotional ones there too that you had only glimpsed. Like Axe’s obsession with not wasting food.

It was easy to guess that, just like you, these scars were not something they wanted to talk about. But you knew that all it took was one person willing to try that could change everything.

“I’m going to go see if Pap is starting dinner.” You turned towards the door, your hand on the brass handle, “He might need some help, if he’s cooking for nine, now.”

“You should probably do that bath Milord told you to take before you do.” Mutt followed you into the entryway, dragging snow in with him on his orange socks. “He’s pretty serious when it comes to hygiene.”

“Do I really smell that bad?” You asked, raising your purple sleeve to sniff. “Hold on, can skeletons even smell?”

“Of course we can!” Mutt rolled his eye lights indignantly. “Why wouldn’t we be able to?”

You open your mouth, to tell Mutt that he had no nose, but then shut it. As far as you knew they didn’t have stomachs either, or lungs, but they still ate and, in Mutt’s case, smoked. They also have glowing, colored tongues, which was strange. Was it all magic? “...fair enough. Sorry if that was a rude question.”

Mutt shrugged, as if telling you not to worry about it, and wandered off into the living room. He fell across one of the long couches, pulled his black hood over his face, and fell back asleep.

You grabbed your heavy book bag off the floor, wincing as your back flared up in protest. You’d have to take it up to the attic eventually, and you didn’t feel like carrying it up all those stairs after getting all clean. Milord might throw a fit if you started to sweat, even just a little.

~~~

You stared at yourself in the mirror as you carefully braided your wet hair over your shoulder, trying not to get your blue sweater dress too wet. That bath had been a wonderful idea. Not only did it warm you up and ease your aches and pains, but it gave you a chance to think.

Before you went downstairs, before you did anything else, you had to make amends with Sans. You wouldn’t be here without his ad, and you knew that he was the one that would eventually have the final say on if you would stay. Even if he had said it was his brothers who would make that choice, Sans was the only one who could make it all official.

After checking that the bottoms of your borrowed sweatpants were rolled up, you went back into the hall. Noises drifted up from the wide, oak stairs, and you recognized Pap’s loud voice and the clinking of pots and pans.

Your eyes drifted to the line of doors along the second story hall. Which one belonged to Sans? Should you just start knocking and hope that you would find it? You shook your head at the idea. You didn’t want to announce to the whole house what you were doing. If anyone came to talk to Sans after you, he might get the idea that you were trying to use his brothers to pressure him.

You head for the last door on the opposite end of the hall; Butch’s room. It was one of two doors that you knew, and you preferred his help over the alternative.

“Butch?” You called out softly, gently knocking on the closed door. “Are you there?”

You wait for quite some time, knowing how timid Butch could be, but there was no answer. Your hand was halfway to the door handle when you stopped yourself. Barging in without an invitation would be really rude, and you didn’t want to do anything that might upset the shyest brother. If he started avoiding you, you would never be able to find him to apologize.

But that left the only other option.

You slowly walk back down the length of the hall, stopping at the door opposite your bathroom. There was a strip of light leaking through the crack at the bottom of the door. He was there. 

Red might not be so helpful, but who else were you going to ask? Pap had yet to approach you, Millord would insult you, and Axe would probably start following you around again if you asked him anything. Mutt was an option… but you wanted to ask someone else. He was already helping you with so much that it was becoming a habit to rely on him.

That wasn’t fair to him at all.

And you knew that at some point, if you lived here, you would have to befriend Red, Milord, and Edge. Out of those three, Red seemed the least intimidating. He might swear a lot, he might be aggressive, but at least he wasn’t as degrading as Milord, or as violent as Edge.

All you had to do was not make him angry enough to start leaking magic. Nothing should happen from just asking a question. 

Even though you were prepared this time, even though you knew what the smell of his magic was, you didn’t want to be afraid.

The past was behind you. A smell couldn’t hurt you.

Taking a deep breath to steady your nerves, you knocked.

Silence. You knocked again.

“Red? Are you there?”

“what d’you want, human?” he growled through the door.

“I was, um, hoping you could help me.”

A silent moment passed, and then the door cracked open, revealing a sliver of Red’s skull and half of a frown which featured his golden fang. The single, crimson eye light you could see studied your face.

“the fuck makes ya think I’d help ya?”

“Well, I won’t know until I ask. Right?”

The frown twisted down into a scowl. Best to get to the point.

“Can you tell me which door is Sans’ room?” You asked, fidgeting with the sleeves of your blue sweater dress. “I don’t know which is which yet.”

“fuckin’ found mine, didn’t ya? go find it yerself.”

“Please, Red?” You looked into his sockets, holding his crimson gaze with your own. “You don’t have to come out and show me. Can you just tell me which door?”

Red’s eye light studied you for a long moment. “first one to the right of the one with the caution tape.”

“Thank you,” you breathed with a sigh of relief. In a sudden stroke of inspiration, you asked quickly, “What’s your favorite flavor?”

“the hell are ya talkin’ about now?” Red opened the door slightly, the bone on his brow furrowed with confusion.

“You know, like cake. But it doesn’t have to be that, I can make all kinds of desserts. What’s your favorite?”

Red scowled at you, his crimson lights narrowing. “the fuck you think you’re playing at, human?” The rising anger in his voice was clear. Your heart leapt into your throat and you fought the urge to take a step back.

“N-nothing! I just wanted to do something nice for you, that’s all-”

“like hell!” he yelled, his face flushed with crimson. “ya think I’m stupid? nobody asked ya ta do anything!”

And he slammed the door in your face.

You stood there, staring at the door in shock. A crazed giggle escaped your lips as relief washed over you, and you muffled the sound with your blue sleeve. For all his swearing and growling, Red still helped you. Even though he was shouting at the time, that blush on his face was… kind of endearing.

That went really well.

The door to the right of the one with caution tape… It was in the exact center of the hall.

There was no light shining from beneath the door frame. You hesitated to knock, wondering if Sans was sleeping. But if you didn’t try to talk to him now, when would you get another chance to speak with him alone?

“...Sans?” you tapped the door gently. If he was asleep, you would at least try to not wake him. “Are you up?”

“...am now.” his low voice drifted through the door. Your stomach dropped. “what do you want, kid?”

“To talk to you. Can I come in?”

Sans didn’t say anything. After a long silence, the handle of his door clicked and swung in an inch. You waited for him to open it further, but when he did not, you gingerly pushed the door and widened the gap.

The light from the hall illuminated only a sliver of Sans’ room, but it was a wreck. Trash was discarded randomly on the floor, a broken chair was left on its side, a torn picture of a flower hung crookedly on the wall on a knot of frayed string, and a dresser on the far wall sagged under its own open drawers, vomiting socks onto the messed floor. A bare, stained mattress was tucked into a corner beneath a boarded up window. Sans laid on that mattress, his arm over his face and his blue hood pulled over his skull.

Did he have a headache left over from his healed injury? Is that why he shielded himself from the light? You tiptoe your way around the trash, making sure to shut the door enough to leave Sans in darkness, but also giving yourself enough light to see by.

“I… wanted to thank you.” You said softly, trying to be mindful if he was dealing with a headache, and sat by his bed in a small clear spot on the floor.

“for what?” Sans said. You eyed the smile back on his face, but it was cold and without any of the humor it held when you first met.

“For giving me a chance.” You picked at the cuffs of your sweater dress, trying to think of the words that would tell him how much this meant to you. “I… I really like your brothers. Even the difficult ones. I’ve never had anyone look out for me like that since… um, well for a long time. People, other humans, at least, kind of avoid me after they learn about me or see me freak out. Or I avoid them. But you guys didn’t, and I appreciate that.”

You knew you were ignoring the fact that Sans certainly had avoided you after you left, but didn’t care. You could forgive him for that. He was only worried about your safety, isn’t that what Butch said?

“you should be avoiding us, too.” Sans lifted his arm and watched you with a single white light. “didn’t you learn anything from your first night here?”

“Yeah. I learned that I really like you guys.” You nodded and smiled softly. “And that I figured out that I need to have another chance to meet Edge. Properly, without all the yelling and grabbing.”

“...you’re not scared you could die?”

You catch the white light in Sans’ socket and hold it. “I’m afraid of some things, yes, but not that. It's hard to be afraid of something you’ve met before and come to terms with. Maybe I should be afraid of death, but I’m not. There are worse things in the world.”

You shoved the memories down as they tried to surface. The unyielding, all consuming pain you fought for over a year. The cruel laughter and shame that had followed you ever since. The fear and waking nightmares that had plagued you as you tried to accept what had happened. The overwhelming grief as you realized you were totally and utterly alone...

Sans removed the arm over his skull and sat up to stare at you, to scrutinize you with his white eye lights. “why are you trying so hard to be here? you never answered me when I asked you before.”

You stared at your fingers as you picked a hole in your sleeve. “Promise me you won’t laugh?”

After a long second, Sans nodded.

“In… In my junior year of high school, something happened.” You felt the tears stinging in your eyes and knew you were unable to tell Sans about that event in its entirety. “I lost my parents and don’t have any other family, so I’ve been alone ever since. It… it really hurts, to be on your own like that. To try and have to deal with everything by yourself.”

“what, you don’t have any human friends to talk to?” Sans asked slowly, leaning forward onto his boney knees.

You shook your head. “The ones I had all left after graduation. I was in… I fell out of contact with everyone my senior year. Then when I went to college, like my parents always wanted me to do. I absorbed myself into my studies to cope with everything. I had my therapist for awhile, before the money from my parent’s life insurance ran out. But other than that, no one.”

A pain, like a knife, twisted in your chest.

“I know it seems crazy,” you wiped your eyes with the back of your sleeve, “I k-know it seems stupid, since I barely know you guys, but I already really care about you. You’re the first people I’ve had that noticed me, that didn’t run away when I screamed. You gave me a chance and f-fought for me and made me feel like I mattered. I want to think of you all as my friends. I... I want to think that you could also be my new family.”

You pressed the palms of your hands to keep yourself from crying and to hide your burning face. You were unsuccessful at both attempts, and that made your shame worse. You hated being this vulnerable.

Sans sighed and gently touched your arm, offering you a sock from the edge of his bed. You took it gratefully, not caring if it was dirty or not, and wiped your wet face.

“...I guess this house is big enough for one more broken soul.”

Your watering eyes snapped up to search Sans’ face, but there was nothing on his skull except a soft smile and his flickering, white eye lights.

“I… I can stay?”

“thought Milord already made that clear?” Sans shrugged. “but if you’re asking if I’m fine with it… I guess. you know what you’re getting into at this point.”

You jumped to your knees and pulled Sans into a crushing hug. His acceptance made you feel like, for the first time, you could hear your soul sing.

“Th-thank you!” Your wobbly voice whispered to the side of Sans’ skull. The white fur of his hood tickled your runny nose and you smiled. “Thank you so much, Sans. I p-promise, I’ll do everything I can to make all of you happy.”

Sans hesitated, then gently patted your back. “no bones about it, kid. but don’t make promises you can’t keep.”

You laughed and kissed the side of his jaw. “I always keep my promises, you’ll see.”

~~~

The cold water from the bathroom sink felt good on your hot face.

A smile stretched your warm cheeks. Your sink. Your bathroom. Your attic loft.

A laughed bubbled out of you, buoyed up by the joy overflowing from your chest. You were staying. Everyone wanted you here. Edge might not realize that yet, but you were going to work hard to change his mind.

You bounced down the stairs and into the kitchen, drawn by the wonderful smells of sauce drifting into the entrance hall.

“It smells amazing here, Pap!”

Axe and Butch glance at you from their seats at the kitchen table, then turn back to watch Papyrus cook. At the stove, Pap stiffened as you approached his side.

“OH, HELLO HUMAN.” he said ridgedly and moved away from you to the counter to chop up garlic.

“Do you want some help?” You asked, not deterred by his cold demeanor, and follow him. You knew he wasn’t normally like that. He had been so warm and excitable when he first met you and was the first to ask if you could stay. You had a strong feeling of what was on his mind.

Pap’s knife is a blur on the cutting board and you make sure to stay just far enough away to not get pelted by flying food. “I know you’re great and talented, but cooking for nine can’t be easy, can it?”

“OF COURSE I AM GREAT. SO MUCH SO THAT I DON’T NEED YOUR HELP.” Pap turns away from you again to dump his minced garlic into the pot of the stove.

“Are you sure?” You tilt your head to the side, smiling slyly. “I would love to have some cooking lessons from the Great Papyrus. Especially since Sans and Milord agreed that I could live here.”

Papyrus jumped and dropped the cutting board into the pot of sauce. He whirled to face you, his white eye lights wide. “SANS… SAID YOU COULD STAY?”

You nodded. “Yup. Just talked to him myself. You still want me here too, right?”

Papyrus glanced at the table, at his brothers, then back at you. Something in him seemed to break, because he grinned broadly and scooped you into a bone crushing hug.

“I KNEW IT! I KNEW HE WOULDN’T MAKE YOU LEAVE!” Pap shouted happily, waving your body back and forth. 

“Is… that why… you’ve been avoiding me?” You choked out against his hug, the bruises on your back crying out from the pressure.

“WELL…” Pap set you back on the floor, an orange blush creeping across his nasal ridge. He scratched the side of his skull with his red mitten and admitted sheepishly, “I LIKE YOU, HUMAN. AND IF YOU WERE NEVER GOING TO COME BACK, I DIDN’T WANT TO GET TOO ATTACHED TO YOU.”

“Too bad for you,” you smiled up at him, “I’m already attached to you guys. I was going to come back and visit every day no matter if Sans wanted me to or not.”

The blush on Pap’s cheekbones deepened and he turned back to the sauce.

“...Sans said okay?” A quiet voice asked hopefully. Butch had perked his head up at you and Axe was watching you.

“Yup!” Your smile widened and you knew you made the right choice in talking to Sans. Despite Milord’s actions, it was obvious from Pap and Butch’s reactions that Sans ran the house. “I’m going to move in tomorrow. If you all don’t mind, I want to spend the night again so I can finish up the drive in the morning.”

“OF COURSE YOU CAN STAY. BUT IF YOU STILL WANT TO HELP, HUMAN, I NEED AN ONION FROM THE FRIDGE.” Papyrus was focused on the pot of sauce and trying to fish out the cutting board without dirtying his mittens. It was not going well. You walked over and reached in for him, pulling it out with only a small amount of sauce dripping on your fingertips.

“...I’ll get...it.” Axe stood up from the table, but Papyrus quickly whirled around.

“YOU STAY RIGHT THERE! YOU’RE NOT ALLOWED NEAR THE FRIDGE, AXE, AS YOU VERY WELL KNOW!”

“Why’s that?” You asked as you washed the board in the sink, earning a dismayed look from Butch. Axe was too busy being forced back into his chair by Papyrus to notice you had washed the sauce down the drain. “Does he eat everything he sees?”

“OF COURSE HE DOES!” Pap tapped his foot irritably at Axe, watching to make sure he didn’t move from his seat. “HE DESTROYED THE LAST ONE WE HAD BECAUSE RED KNOCKED OVER THE MILK!”

You thought back to the ripped up cupcake box and suppressed a snort of laughter. Then, a creeping realization hit you. “Axe… did you tell everyone about the cake I brought?”

Axe slowly turned to look at you with his red eye light. “you… said others.”

“Yes, your other brothers.”

“I thought… you meant… the other cakes.”

You glared at him and put your hands on your hips. “You know perfectly well I meant your brothers! That cake was for Papyrus, I made extra so you could share!”

“I did… with Butch.” Axe smiled at the shy skeleton, who looked away from you with a grey blush on his cheekbones.

“YOU BROUGHT CAKE?” Papyrus stopped tapping his foot to look at you. “FOR ME?”

“Of course I did! I promised you I’d bring some, didn’t I?” You huffed and grabbed the onion from the silver fridge. “It sounds like you didn’t get any, though. Sorry, Pap. I’ll make more so you’ll have plenty of chances. Do you have a favorite in mind?”

Papyrus tapped his chin thoughtfully and stared at the ceiling while you chopped onion. Your eyes watered as the acid stung your eyes.

“I HAVE HEARD… OF A HUMAN DISH CALLED ‘TIRAMISU’. I WOULD LIKE TO TRY THAT.”

Of course it would be something Italian. It wasn’t too difficult to make, but it would be expensive. You didn’t have the money right now for a cab, let alone a dish like that.

“I’ll make it then.” You tipped the onion into the pot. “I’ll have to wait until payday to make it, but I won’t forget.”

“YOU DON’T HAVE TO MAKE ANYTHING!” Pap’s eye lights eyed your tears and his jaw dropped in horror. “DON’T CRY, HUMAN, IT’S NOT THAT IMPORTANT!”

“It’s from the onion, Pap,” you chuckled and wiped your face with your blue sleeve. “The acid, you know? Or… maybe you don’t.” Your gaze flicked up to his sockets. If they didn’t have eyeballs, could skeletons even cry? “I want to make it for you. If you’re cooking for me, then let me cook for you. That’s what friends do, right?”

Pap’s chest swelled with your words. “WE ARE FRIENDS, THEN?”

“Of course!”

“WOWIEE!” Pap picked you up again in another bone crushing hug. “MY FIRST FRIEND! I REALLY AM AMAZING, AREN’T I?”

“The...best!” You choked out against his grip. Pap really was sweet. You found it very hard to believe that you were his first friend.

When you were close to suffocating, Pap finally dropped you back to the ground.

As you resuming helping him (you abandoned trying to assist with his cooking and instead cleaned up after him. His excited movements were getting food everywhere.) the other brothers slowly filtered into the kitchen. Mutt smiled at you before falling asleep in his seat. Red stomped in, glared at you, and sat in his chair to stare resutely at the wall. Sans appeared in a puff of damp wood smell, grinning lazily out the window. Milord marched in, caught you cleaning the counter after a splatter of sauce from Pap’s enthusiastic stirring, and nodded. A small grin tugged at the corner of his sharp teeth as he sat across from Sans.

“Is Edge coming too?” You asked innocently as you collected plates from the cabinet, but there was a collective stiffening around the table.

“He’s staying late at work.” Milord said coldly and tugged at his leather gloves. “He is neither efficient nor clever, and so he must work overtime to accomplish his duties.”

“he’ll eat when he gets home.” Sans watched you closely for a reaction as you took filled plates of food from Papyrus and set them before everyone. “don’t worry about him, kid. you got enough on your plate.”

“SANS! NO PUNS AT THE TABLE!” Papyrus barked as you grabbed forks from the drawer. Pap’s eye lights caught the cutlery in your hands and he gently grabbed your arm to stop you. He removed two of the forks and replaced them with spoons. “AXE AND BUTCH GET THOSE.”

“don’t fork-git.” Sans’ grin widened as he took the utensil from you. You couldn’t help but grin as Papyrus groaned behind you.

Mutt was still asleep, his face almost rolled into his dish of pasta. You had to poke him awake with his fork.

Red refused to take anything from you, so you just set his fork next to his plate.

Butch quietly thanked you and avoided eye contact as you gave him and Axe their spoons.

Milord just watched you with an icy stare until you set his utensil before him.

Papyrus told you to sit down, and served you and himself before taking his seat.

You watched the nearly full table curiously, wondering how they would eat. It was weird, watching Axe, Butch, and Mutt tip their entire platefull of food into the voids behind their jaws. (Where did it all go?) Milord complained loudly between small, deliberate bites about Axe’s mannerisms while Butch, his own food gone and his plate licked clean, watched Red shovel the noodles into his mouth. Sans gazed dreamily out the window again, his fork forgotten in the air mid-bite. Papyrus chastised Mutt as he fell asleep at the table again, his face rolling into the leftover sauce on his plate.

A smile tugged at your lips. You had rough patches already, and you were bound to have them again, but moments like this were why you fought to stay here. Strong affection for the skeletons in front of you swelled in your chest, filling your heart like a hot bath, as you daydreamed about future days in the house; about the moments you would make in your new home that you could treasure and carry with you for the rest of your life.

You hoped that mom and dad could feel how happy you were right now.

Slowly, the movement and chatter around the table died as, one by one, the brothers turned their skulls and fixed their eye lights on you.

“That’s a real pretty song, Robin.” Mutt grinned from his plate.

Heat rushed to your face and, before you could stop yourself, you were laughing. Tears leaked from your eyes and you clenched at a stitch in your side. How could you forget how easy it was for these skeletons to read your emotions? What on earth did your soul sound like now, when it was full of embarrassed joy?

“fuckin’ crazy woman.” Red forcefully shoved his chair away from the table and stomped out of the kitchen, a crimson blush on his face.

Milord threw down his fork - “Great, I’ve lost my appetite.” - and vanished in a puff of frost. Butch grabbed his food and immediately tipped through his broken teeth, hiding his grey blush with the plate.

“did you put something weird in the sauce again, Pap?” Sans smirked at you, his white eye lights dancing with amusement. “I told you humans shouldn’t eat monster food.”

“I… AM THE GREATEST CHEF… EVER!” Pap buried his face in his red mittens, squealing to himself.

“...you done?” Axe pointed at your neglected plate. You pushed it towards him, unable to stop laughing.

You could always get a second helping.


	3. Ch 3 - Tease and Cookies

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> All right, are we ready for the roller coaster train wreck ride?! Buckle up, kid.
> 
> So, I just want to quick say, that I know that this story is going to tackle some heavy themes, and I also know that some of these themes can be touchy for people. Please let me know if there's a tag you think I should add to help give proper warning. 
> 
> Thank you for reading, and enjoy!

Ch 3 - Tease and Cookies

The front door snapped shut behind you as you stepped over the threshold of the entryway, pink faced and shivering. You had woken up at dawn to finish shoveling the driveway and, as you blew on your numb fingers, all that was on your mind now was finding something warm to drink. 

Using your hands to reshape the snow boundaries of the drive had been a stupid idea, but your boot prints had made it look, as Milord had put it, shoddy. You regretted not asking Pap if you could borrow his mittens last night.

As you kicked off your boots and shook off your leather jacket, you heard the sound of running water drifting down from the wide oak steps. Someone had woken up since you had gone outside and was taking a shower.

You searched through the cupboards of the kitchen, looking for anything that you could heat up. Tea, cocoa, it didn’t matter. You knew you were being rude, rifling through the shelves without asking Pap if you could (you through of the kitchen as Pap’s domain, since he was the only one you had seen cook so far) but you also felt he would understand. You did live here now, and the thought of asking Pap to prepare everything for you seemed more rude than just doing it yourself.

You set a jar of instant coffee that you had found on the marble counter and searched for a mug. You found one in the cupboards next to the plates, but your numb fingers fumbled with the slick ceramic and it tumbled to the floor, shattering all over the tile. You sighed heavily and bent down to carefully pick up the shards.

“Do you not know how to use a broom?”

The sudden voice and smell of frost made you jump. You hissed as you hand slipped and sliced your cold finger on the edge of a large piece of mug. Blood seeped from the wound. You stuck it in your mouth as you looked up at Milord. He leaned against the archway, watching you with a bemused look on his skull.

“Wounded by a piece of pottery. Humans really are fragile, aren’t they?”

"Good morning to you too," you mumbled around your bloody finger. "Where's the broom?"

Milord pointed out a slim door beneath the stairs. As you extracted a broom from the neatly arranged cleaning supplies, Milord entered the kitchen via quick, measured strides. 

"I finished the drive." You said conversationally while you swept up your mess and Milord boiled water at the stove. You were half hoping for a compliment or, at the very least, recognition that you had kept your promise.

"My powers of observation are still intact." Milord said icily and pulled a mug out for himself. He pointed at the space beneath the sink and added, "Garbage is there. Be sure you clean the broom when you’ve finished. I don't want your filthy human blood all over it."

A sinking feeling passed through your guts as you watched Milord measure out the instant grounds for his mug in silence. It hurt that he wasn't acknowledging your hard work, and his little verbal jabs stung.

You tried to console yourself as you dumped the shards of the broken mug in the trash. Maybe Milord not saying anything at all about your work on the drive was praise in itself. It's not like he had said anything nice to you so far, and saying nothing was better than a backhanded compliment or an outright insult.

Milord had put the jar of coffee away. You opened the cupboard, reached out for it, and the door slammed shut; wafting the smell of frost into your face. You tried again and had the same result. You turned around to glare at Milord, who was sitting at the table with a bony finger held up like a conductor's baton. Lavender colored plasma glowed at the very tip of his finger and lit up his scowl.

"You're not touching my coffee with an open wound on your hand." His purple eye lights were narrowed at you.

"So I'll use my other hand." You opened the cupboard again and it slammed back shut. You closed your eyes and took a deep breath. It was too early for this. All you wanted was something warm to drink.

"You have yet to wash your hands after handling garbage. Were you raised in a dump?"

With one last glare at Milord, you stomped back to the hall to pull on your boots and coat. You weren't going to stay here and play his game, you had far too much to do today and too little time. The bus ride to campus and back alone was going to total four hours for a round trip, and then you had to pack your things, unpack at the house, and start on your mountain of homework. Screw the instant coffee, you would get a latte on campus.

~~~

Luckily for you, everything you owned fit neatly into a single duffle bag. There wasn't a lot of point in having too many things, since you moved between different dorm rooms every year, and your campus provided furniture for you. Any trinkets that would have held memories for you had burned up a long time ago, save one; and you wore it everywhere to keep it safe.

Since you had woken up so early, you also managed to catch the housing office during their limited weekend hours to discuss terminating your contract. They weren't happy, and tried their best to convince you to stay in your room, but you were insistent and talked them into reducing the cancellation fee they threatened you with. (You hadn't been in that room for a full week yet, so they really couldn't charge you if they wanted to adhere to their own fine print.) 

The bus trip back to Lane 66 was a happy one. You had just erased a huge chunk of your debt from this semester by not having to pay housing costs. You carefully sipped your mocha on the swaying bus, feeling satisfied with your Saturday morning. The hot, chocolate latte was delicious. Better than instant coffee any day.

The front door clicked shut behind you and you adjusted the duffle bag onto your back before taking off your boots. An argument drifted into the entrance hall from the kitchen and you couldn't help but overhear.

"-must've told you a thousand times that I needed that report done today!" Milord's icy voice snapped.

You tilted your ear towards the kitchen archway, curious, and took a few quiet steps towards the voices.

"must've forgot about the fine print." Sans' low tone chuckled. 

"WE KNOW YOU DON'T FORGET ANYTHING!" A sharp voice growled and a hand slammed on a table. You felt yourself stiffen as you recognized that Edge was in there, too. "YOU JUST CHOOSE TO NOT DO YOUR JOB, AS USUAL. DO YOU REALIZE HOW MUCH OF A PAIN OUR WORK BECOMES WITHOUT THAT INFORMATION? IF IT WEREN'T FOR MY INCREDIBLE SKILL-"

"You guys might want to pipe down." A raspy voice interjected. "If you haven't heard, Robin just got back."

"Then go do something about it, mongrel!"

You heard a sigh and the scraping of a chair being pushed back. You quickly retreated back towards the door and leaned over again to fuss with your boots and the hem of your black sweater dress, nervously hoping that it looked like you had just walked inside and hadn't been eavesdropping.

Mutt's orange socks walked into the corner of your vision. "Hey there, Robin. Need some help carrying everything in?"

"Thanks for the offer, but it's okay." You straightened up and smiled. "It's just the one bag. I'll manage it fine."

Half of the bone on Mutts brow lifted in a way that strongly reminded you of a human raising their eyebrow. His red eye lights glanced at your duffle bag. "That's it?"

"Easy, right?" You could feel a small heat tinting your cheeks and headed for the stairs. Having so few possessions never embarrassed you in the past, so why did it now? But before you could climb more than a few steps, Mutt reached out and gently grabbed your wrist.

"Can I come with you anyway?" His raspy voice was barely above a whisper and his eye lights flickered towards the kitchen. "I really, _really_ don't want to go back to the grump convention in there."

"I guess that's oka-ah!" Quick as a flash, Mutt had swept you up off the stairs and was carrying you over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes. One of his bony hands was holding you in place by the small of your back; drifting dangerously close to your butt. You beat your fists against the back of his black hoodie, your face burning with embarrassment. "What're you doing?? Put me down!"

"Nope. You won't let me carry your bag, so I'm just going to carry you." Mutt chuckled as his long legs quickly climbed the oak stairs. As he plopped you onto the cream colored sheets of your bed, he said, "Your soul makes such cute little chirps when you're embarrassed. I really can't help myself."

You scowled and threw your duffle bag at the smirk on his skull. So he thought it was fun to tease you, huh? You glared at him for a long time, trying to think of a good comeback.

"Just be quiet so I can do my homework!" You huffed, unable to think of a retort, and got off the bed to search your backpack. At least the sound of your duffle bag hitting his face had been satisfying.

"Can do. Just tell anyone who asks that I helped you unpack, yeah?" Mutt collapsed on your bed, buried his face in the sheets, and was asleep before you had pulled all of your books from your bag.

You spread your textbooks out on the floor, wondering where to start. Calculus would take you forever, so you would save that for last. Maybe you should start with your essay on cognitive development first… or your paper on exposure therapy. Then there was that report on monster economy that was due Monday.

You pulled your books for Monster Studies closer to you and started scratching away in one of your notebooks with a pencil. The wooden floor was very uncomfortable to sit on, but your bed was taken up by Mutt, and the kitchen downstairs was being used for a meeting.

That's what you had to assume it was, based off of what little information you had overheard. Why else would Milord ask for a report from Sans? Why else would Edge complain about lack of information?

You glanced up at Mutt as he gave a small snort and rolled over in his sleep, taking your sheets with him. (How could he close his eye sockets without lids?) He had once told you that Milord and Edge both worked for the royal guard, but how did Mutt and Sans fit into that? As you understood things, Mutt worked from home and whatever Sans did was a mystery even to Mutt.

Didn't Milord send him out into the hall? What if that was to keep you from overhearing something important? 

You leaned against the edge of the bed and stared at Mutt while he slept. All those questions and more danced on the tip of your tongue, but asking them would mean admitting that you were eavesdropping in the first place.

The royal guard… they might've been talking about something regarding the monster queen's safety. You might not know much about monsters themselves, but you had heard about Queen Toriel from your class. Milord or Edge probably could tell you all about her, but they were not exactly welcoming conversationalists.

Mutt mumbled something in his sleep and he rolled over again. Was he having a bad dream? You reached out and gently brushed your fingers over his skull. It was a motion very like when Mutt would run his fingers through your hair. The touch seemed to calm him, and he buried his face into your sheets with a small sigh. 

You smiled and looked out of the large, circular window at the tops of the bare trees and the weak afternoon sunlight. Your thoughts drifted back down to the kitchen, to the meeting and why it seemed like such a secret. The only answer you could come up with was the monster queen. Of course the queen's protection had to be secret. Why else would Mutt literally carry you away from that conversation? The only other explanation you had was that he wanted to keep you away from Edge.

Still, your curiosity burned. What kind of monster was Queen Toriel? What kind of protection did she need that required Milord and Edge? Milord's vocabulary and his way of persuading Sans to let you stay made you feel like he was rather clever, despite his sharp tongue. And Edge was surely strong enough to handle any physical threats… but those two didn’t exactly inspire confidence. Is that why they needed Sans and Mutt?

Were they dealing with something that involved humans? ...no, it couldn't be that. You would have seen it on the internet. You didn't have social media, since you didn't have any friends, but you still kept yourself up to date on the goings on of the world. There was a huge news piece almost a year ago about the emergence of monster kind.

But the news was strangely quiet after the initial exposure of the new species. You had expected daily, if not hourly, stories about the strange new race. You expected stories about their culture, about their encounters with humans, about their queen and the rumors of magic. But there was nothing. Even your Monster Studies class had barely enough information to call itself a “studies”.

Surely no news was good news? Even though you yearned for more information on the monster world, hearing nothing was better than hearing stories about fights or riots or any other kind of negative contact. Most humans already seemed to hate and fear monsters; at least monsters weren't giving humans anything to feed that prejudice.

Surely something like a fight or a riot would be all over the internet, if it ever happened. Right?

You glanced at the stairwell, still feeling curious. Would it be such a bad thing, now that Mutt was asleep, if you snuck down the stairs and listened in?

You turned back to your studies and shoved your nose into your book. That's where it belonged, you told yourself, not in other's business. You would get in trouble if you pushed too far, and eavesdropping on a meeting about royal protection services was not worth risking the place in this house that you had fought so hard for. That, and you shuddered to think what would happen if Edge caught you again with your ear to the door.

~~~

Hours later, you pushed your completed essay across the hardwood floor. (Explain the functions of various items known to be imbued with magic and how they could rival technological advancements in human society.) The handwritten essay would not be good enough for your professor. All of your homework would have to be typed up eventually, but you would worry about finding a computer when the rest of your work was done.

For the moment, you were more concerned about the smell drifting up into the attic. You sniffed hopefully at the enticing aroma, your stomach growling loudly and reminding you that you hadn’t actually eaten anything yet today.

With a glance at Mutt, who was still fast asleep, you pulled your sheets over him and quietly made your way down the stairs. A quick break wouldn’t hurt your studies, and it would be nice to chat with Pap for a bit.

You flew down the stairs, your white stockings almost slipping on the smooth wood, towards the kitchen, and through the archway.

“It smells amazing, Pap! What’cha mak…” your words drifted off as you stared at the skeleton before the stove.

He wore tight, black jeans and a black turtleneck. His skull slowly turned towards you, his red eye lights narrowed beneath the twin scars over his left socket. The leather of his red gloves creaked as he tightened his grip on the spatula he held. The sharp fangs in his skull twisted into a frown as he looked at you.

Your whole body tensed under Edge’s glare and your heart leapt into your throat. The only sound in the kitchen was the small popping and sizzling from the pan on the stove. Any moment now, you were expecting to smell gasoline, to hear him yell and reach for you -

“hey, kid. how’d the move in go?”

Your eyes darted to the table where Sans sat with his skull resting in one bony hand, a lazy grin on his face. His presence gave you a small amount of courage, but not enough to get any words past the lump in your throat.

“SO DESPITE MY WARNINGS, YOU LET THE RAT LIVE IN THE HOUSE.” Edge angrily turned back to the stove to flip whatever was in the pan.

“you lost fair and square, bud.” Sans sighed. “even by your own rules.”

“HMF.” Edge tipped the contents of the pan onto an empty plate and slammed it in front of Sans. “JUST KEEP IT AWAY FROM ME.”

Edge stomped from the kitchen, making a point to shove you roughly into the archway as he passed. You gripped the wall tightly, knees trembling, as you watched him climb the oak steps and out of sight. A door slammed upstairs.

“you okay, kid?” Sans’ low voice asked you as he took a bite of the grilled cheese that Edge had made for him. Still unable to speak because of your nerves, you nodded. “there ya go. wasn’t so bad this time, was it?”

“I… I thought…” You stopped yourself. You would not admit to Sans, or anyone, that you thought for a moment that Edge was going to attack you again. Didn’t you already think about that possibility, before you came back to the house? Didn’t you decide that you were going to try and start over with him? That wasn’t going to happen if you kept thinking he was going to go after you every time you met. “I… think that went well.”

Sans nodded, “yeah, he’s not so bad when he doesn’t let his temper get the best of him,” and took another bite of grilled cheese. Your stomach growled loudly as you watched. The bone on Sans’ brow lifted in that strange imitation of a raised eyebrow. “sit down, kid.”

You looked between him and the chair he pointed out, unsure of what he wanted to talk about.

“don’t worry, I’m not going to grill you.” Sans’ lazy grin widened as he waved his grilled cheese at you. You smiled back and sat at the table with him, your stomach growling again as you smelled his food.

With his free hand, Sans reached into his blue hoodie and he pulled out a white envelope. He slid it across the table to you. “take this. consider it an advance on your first paycheck.”

You looked at the envelope in disbelief. “I can’t take that, Sans. I haven’t done hardly anything! I don’t need money right now, I can wait until payday.”

“you can, and you will.” Sans took another bite of his grilled cheese. “payday isn’t for another two weeks and you need to go buy human food. you’re hungry, right? I said before you can’t keep eating monster food, and none of us are supposed to leave the mountain.”

“But I like what Pap makes.” You said. Sure, he added strange things to his meals sometimes, like that cardboard, but that was only the one time; it wasn’t as if his cooking was terrible. The other time you ate his food it was completely normal. “I can pay you back for the meals you’ve given me, if that’s what you want-”

“you don’t get it.” Sans shook his head and placed his grilled cheese on the plate. “none of us care if you have dinner with us once in awhile, but you can’t live by eating monster food. it won’t sustain you. if you go on eating nothing but what we have, you will literally starve to death on a full stomach.”

“How?” You asked, looking at the half eaten sandwich. It looked exactly like a regular grilled cheese. Nothing about it would suggest that it was any different from the ones your mom made you as a kid. “It looks and tastes the same, and you cook it the same way. I don’t understand…”

“monster food is made of magic; it has no nutritional value to humans.” Sans spotted your hungry gaze and took the grilled cheese back. “and the reverse is true for us. human food can give us a buzz, if it has sugar or caffeine, but we’ll die if we can’t replenish our magic.”

“So… I’ve been eating magic?” What a weird concept, to be eating something that you didn’t even know existed until a year ago and not know it. You looked at your hands, half expecting them to start leaking a colored plasma; or to have a strange, new scent radiate off you. “I don’t feel any different.”

“you don’t?” Sans examined you, his white eye lights glowing with interest. “does your back still hurt?”

“My…?” You reached around and felt your back. It didn’t hurt at all, save for the bit of soreness from shoveling this morning. With a jolt, you just realized that none of the sharp pains from your bruises were there. Which was strange; you should have them. They had healed a bit over the week since you had gotten them, but they hadn’t disappeared, had they?

Sans chuckled. “you ate our food last night, didn’t you? those bruises should be gone.”

Beneath the probing touches of your fingers, you knew that something was missing. You resisted the urge to run upstairs and into your bathroom to check. It just didn’t seem possible. “That can’t be true.” You looked at the cut on your finger in disbelief. That was still there.

“don’t believe me?” Sans followed your gaze, his eye lights narrowing at the sight of the cut. He tore off a small bite of his grilled cheese and held it out to you. “see for yourself.”

You took the offered bite and popped it into your mouth, relishing the feeling of buttery, toasted bread and gooey cheese on your tongue, stomach growling for more. Sans motioned across the table towards you and you looked at your finger.

The cut was gone.

“Holy shit!” You jumped out of your chair, staring at your hand, a believer at last. “Sans, this… this is amazing!” Your mind raced with all the possibilities. “Do you know what this stuff could do? If we gave this to humans, we could get rid of sickness. Of suffering! This could cure cancer! This could-”

With a giddy thought, your mind drifted to your scars. You could look normal again.

“no, we can’t.” Sans said sadly, his smile dropping as he stared at the grilled cheese. “for humans, our food can heal wounds, yes, but it’s not some miracle cure. all it does is speed up your body's natural processes. for someone with cancer, eating our food would only kill them faster. it can’t wipe away something your body does on its own or to itself. it can’t rewrite birth defects, or erase scars from wounds already healed over, or regrow an organ a human was never born with.”

The smile also fell from your face as you sat back into your chair. So much for getting rid of your scars. “But… you could still help people. A lot of humans are afraid of monsters. If you gave them something that could help them, heal them, that would do a lot towards changing their feelings.”

Sans sighed and popped the rest of the grilled cheese into the void inside his jaw. “there are billions of humans, kid, and only one place monster food is made: the Underground. if we start giving away our food just so humans will like us, we’d all starve. it’s best if humans believe our food is the same as theirs and they don’t figure out what it can do. understand?”

You thought about this information and nodded. If humans ever found out about a thing that can magically heal their wounds, even if it wasn’t a miracle worker, they would want it for themselves. Humans already fought each other for resources like oil and diamonds; things not necessary for survival. You wouldn’t say anything that might turn humanity’s greedy eyes further towards monster kind.

“so take the money,” Sans pushed the envelope closer to you, “and go get yourself something to eat. if you take a cab, make sure you don’t have them drop you off in front of the house and let one of us know before you leave if you think you’ll need help carrying things in.”

Despite feeling like you still didn’t deserve it, you took the envelope and bashfully looked at the tiled floor. “Thank you, Sans. I really appreciate you and everything you’ve done for me.”

“at least someone does.” Sans’ lazy smile was back on his face, along with a hint of blue on his nasal ridge, and he leaned back in his chair. “cash ya later, kid.”

He was gone in the blink of an eye, leaving only the scent of damp wood behind.

You stare at the thick envelope in your hands, thinking about everything Sans had told you. How did he know so much about the effects of monster food on humans? Then again, he also was the one to interview you for the job, and he hadn’t seemed too curious about you, so you couldn’t have been the first human he had met. How many humans has he interacted with before?

Your wondering was cut short as you opened the envelope and stared in shock. This had to be at least half of your paycheck, if not more. What in the world was he thinking? He must trust you an awful lot to just give you this much money before you had done the work to earn it.

Stuffing the bills back in the envelope, you slowly made your way back to your room. It was awfully tempting, with that much money, to go out and spend it on yourself. But you had a semester of college to pay for if you wanted that degree; you couldn’t go spending everything on clothes or books or whatever else you wanted. If you were going to buy anything, it would be a lockbox, and you were going to use it to save every penny you could until that debt was paid off and that degree was in your hand.

Upstairs in the loft, you found Mutt was still sprawled out in your bed. You rolled your eyes at him, wondering how someone could sleep so much, and sat on the floor. Opening to a blank sheet of paper from the back of a notebook, you began your grocery list.

“What’s ‘mascarpone?’” Mutt’s raspy voice asked. You looked over your shoulder to see that he had woken up and was watching you write.

“It’s a kind of Italian cream cheese.” You explained. “I need it for the tiramisu I’m making for Pap tonight.” Since you had the money, you might as well pick everything up in one trip. It’s not like you would have the time during the week with all of your classes during the day. 

Mutt reached out and ran his bony fingers gently through your hair, twirling the ends of it around his digits. He said, a slight growl in his raspy voice, “You keep making all these things for Pap and I’m going to get jealous.”

“I promised him I’d make him something.” You said simply and erased a line saying ‘fish’. That was too expensive, you should only stick to necessities. Chicken was a much cheaper protein. “And if I remember right, everyone got to eat some of what I made before except for Pap. But if you want me to make you something you should decide now, before I go to the store. What do you want?”

“Oh, I dunno.” Mutt’s hand stopped running through your hair and his arms dropped loosely around your shoulders. “What do you think I’d like?”

“Do you have a favorite flavor?” You asked and looked over your shoulder. Mutt’s face was a bit too close and his red eye lights had a mischievous look to them. You quickly turned your attention back to your list. His arms tightened around your shoulders, pulling you closer to him.

“Hm... something sultry.” He murmured, resting his cheekbones against the side of your head. “Or spicy.”

“I.. I could make truffles.” You stammered, feeling heat rise to your cheeks as Mutt’s thumb started stroking your arm over your black sweater dress. “Then I could make a bunch of different flavors for you to try, and your brothers could have some, too.”

“What if I don’t want to share?” Mutt buried his face in your neck and your face lit up like a lighthouse at night. You could feel the heat of his breath on your neck as he whispered, “What if I want it all to myself?”

“That wouldn’t be right, n-now would it?” You gave the top of his skull a hard flick with your finger and Mutt quickly pulled his face away from your neck. “If I make something, I make enough for everyone. No favorites.”

Mutt scowled, his golden fang flashing in the low sunlight, and released you to flomp back onto the bed. “That’s no fair, Robin.”

“It’s exactly fair, that’s the point.” After jotting a few extra things down, you ripped your grocery list from your notebook and stuffed it into the pocket in your sweater dress. The color had leveled out on your face again and you stood to face Mutt. “Alright, enough napping. Out!”

Mutt buried his face in your sheets. “Nope.”

“Come on, I’ve got to get to the store.”

“So go, then. I’m staying right here.”

You rolled your eyes at his stubbornness and grabbed onto the black sleeve of Mutt’s hoodie, attempting to drag him out of your bed. For a skeleton, he was surprisingly heavy. Even with your best effort you only got him halfway onto the floor before you lost your grip and fell back onto your butt.

“Good try, Robin.” He laughed at you, his own skull on the floor as he hung upside down off your bed, his arms hanging limply. “Maybe the next one will do it.”

Scowling, you cheeks pink once again, you climbed onto your bed and grabbed Mutt by the orange socks. Lifting with all of your might, you pushed him the rest of the way off your bed and onto the floor. “There,” you panted from the effort, “now get out.”

“I can’t.” Mutt chuckled, grinning broadly. “I forgot how to walk.”

“I swear to god, Mutt, if you make me drag you downstairs I’m going to make sure your skull hits every single step on the way down.”

“Alright, alright, I’m up.” Mutt still had that grin on his skull as he slowly climbed to his feet and meandered to the narrow stairway. “I can take a hint.”

“Apparently you can’t!” You threw your pillow at him. It missed by several feet and slid across the wooden floor. His raspy laugh drifted back towards you as he disappeared down the steps.

~~~

You dropped your bags onto the kitchen table and wiped the sweat from your brow with the back of your sleeve. Even though you had taken a cab back from the grocers, you had them drop you off at the bus stop at the base of the mountain and the hike up the road had not been fun. The greasy food you had eaten for lunch at that fast food restaurant had turned in your stomach the whole way.

Now you had to find a place to put all your groceries. You had been hoping to find Pap in the kitchen, to ask him what he would like you to do, but he was strangely absent from the house today. Now that you thought about it, you haven’t seen most of the other brothers, either. It was starting to worry you a bit before you remembered that it was the weekend. 

Of course the brothers would be out doing other things. They were confined to Mt. Ebott, not to the house. You had just gotten so used to seeing everyone at Lane 66 that it seemed strange to think that they’d ever leave. But staying inside without ever leaving was the kind of behavior reserved for people with agoraphobia or severe social anxiety. Or people who just liked to be by themselves.

Where did the brothers go, when they left? Did they have parties? Go to movie theaters? Visited cafes or shopped at malls? A small pain twinged your heart as you thought of all the things you used to do with your friends back in your early years of high school. You hadn’t done any of those things since then.

There was a shelf in a cupboard to the left of the sink that was mostly empty. A few minutes of moving, and it was ready for your dry goods. You hadn’t bought too much, you kept in mind the fact that you only had to feed yourself, and the shelf was more than accommodating for what you needed. From one of the grocery bags you pulled out a pack of note cards and a marker. Folding one of them in half, you wrote ‘human food’ on it and stuck it among the cans. Aside from some of the strange branding on the brothers’ food, it all looked alike to you, and you hoped that this card would help you remember what was yours.

The fridge was a different story. There wasn’t a lot of shelf space there, as it was a very limited space to store food for eight skeletons, but you decided to make due with one of the neglected crisper drawers at the very bottom. As you were writing out your reminder card, you smelled sweet rot drift over the tiles.

“Hey, Butch!” You said cheerfully without turning around, recognizing the scent. “How’s your day been?”

There was a small mumble and the rustle of a plastic bag. You looked over your shoulder and see Butch investigating the ingredients you had left out. Butch froze when he caught your gaze, a bag of ground espresso in his bony hand.

“Do you want to help me cook?” You asked him as you shut the fridge.

“...help you?” he asked softly, his tone unsure.

“Why not?” You smiled and washed your hands before you pulled the other ingredients out of the bag. “It’ll be fun!”

“...Pap… doesn’t let me help…” Butch handed over the bag of espresso to you and sat in the chair. “...Axe and I are… only supposed to...watch.”

“Speaking of, where is Axe?” You asked as you pulled a pan from the cupboards to boil water with. “I haven’t seen him all day, and he’s always around when food is involved. Is he feeling okay?”

Butch gave you a lopsided grin. “he likes to... wander the woods…”

“Does he now?” You looked out of the window over the sink, at the dark woods beyond, and wondered what Axe could be doing out there in the night. “And you guys don’t worry about him?”

Butch shakes his head at your question. “Axe is… very strong. he… comes back... when he’s hungry.”

You giggled to yourself. As far as you understood, Axe was always hungry, or at least always ready to eat food, so that wasn’t saying much. “Well, as long as you think he’s okay, I won’t worry. Can you bring me the paper filters and funnel so I can get this espresso going?”

“...not supposed to…” Butch looked at the ingredients on the table and fidgeted with the frayed cuffs of his red hoodie.

“Why not?” You asked and crossed the kitchen to him, a hand on your hip.

“I...like to…” a grey flush appeared on his cheekbones, “try the… ingredients.”

“Well, that’s perfectly okay.” You put the espresso back in his hand and gently pull him from the chair. “Good cooks always try their food as they go. It’s how they know they haven’t over or under seasoned what they’re making. Come on, wash your hands and then I’ll show you how to do a pour over for espresso, we’ll need it for the recipe.”

Butch smiled shyly and let you guide him to the counter. He refused to pull up his sleeves as he washed up in the sink, which you found odd, but you decided it didn’t matter as long as he was clean before touching food.

“So I know you can make this in a coffee pot, but I didn’t think you guys had one, since there’s only instant coffee in cupboards.” You said as you put the funnel in a mug and lined it with the paper filter, “This way works too, and I prefer it when I’m making desserts that use coffee in them. It takes away a lot of the bitterness from the roast and - no, don’t eat that!”

You reached up and grabbed the bag of espresso moments before Butch could pour it into his mouth. His face flushed with grey and he mumbled, “...but you said…”

“Yes, you can try it, but don’t pour it in like that.” You offered the open bag to him. “Just lick your finger and get some of the grounds on it. Espresso has a ton of caffeine in it; it’s dangerous in large quantities. Even when you drink it you should use the tiniest cup you can.”

Butch licked his fingerbone with a glowing, grey tongue and stuck it inside the bag. He examined the grounds stuck to his bone before sticking it between his broken teeth. “...like a teacup?”

“Smaller.” You smiled and poured a minute amount of grounds into the filter. “Think shot glass size. They call it a ‘shot of espresso’ for a reason.”

You guided Butch through the pour over and, after his help in locating the mixing bowl and beaters, explained how to whip egg whites into cream and what mascarpone was. He had to try everything along the way; the meringue, the cooled espresso, the cocoa powder…

It was really exciting for you. You felt like you were showing him a new world through your cooking. Now you know how your mom felt when she showed you or dad around the kitchen. Dad liked to try everything too, and mom would laugh so hard when he accidentally mixed up the salt with the sugar and his nose would crinkle up and they had to start all over...

Butch refused to taste only one thing: the rum. He said he didn’t like the smell and you didn’t blame him. 

“I don’t drink it either, I just use it for cooking.” You said as you sifted cocoa powder into the glass dish that would hold your finished tiramisu. “Some people like to drink alcohol, but I don’t care for it. I get into a bad headspace when I’m drunk.”

“...weird thing for… humans to drink.” Butch watched you work over your shoulder, his white eye lights following every move your hands made as they tapped the sifter. “sometimes… Red drinks, but… he drinks… mustard…”

“Mustard?” You crinkle your nose at the thought. Butch nodded.

“and Sans… drinks ketchup.”

You laughed. “I’ll hide the condiments in case they relish a change in flavor.”

Butch grinned weakly at your bad pun. After a moment he looked at you with a tilted skull, innocently questioning you, “...what did you mean… bad headspace?” 

It takes you a long time to answer. Long enough that you had finished the first layering of the cream in the glass pan over the cocoa. “I… get very sad. I remember things that I would rather forget.”

“...like what?”

You stare at the half finished dessert. “I’m sorry, Butch. I’m not ready to talk about it.” You had never talked about that event to anyone except for your therapist. Once had been hard enough.

“...I’m sorry...” Butch stepped back and stared at his black socks. Your heart melted as you watched him nervously pull at the threads in his red hoodie.

“Don’t be, it’s nothing that was your fault.” You gently touched his arm and smiled. “And hey, we’re almost done! All that’s left is the ladyfingers!” You went over to the almost empty bags and fished the cookies out from the plastic. Sure, they were store bought instead of homemade, but you couldn’t spend all night baking. You had essays to finish. “I bet you’ll love these, and I’ll eat some too. ...Butch?”

You had looked up from the packet of cookies to see Butch’s white eye lights wide and staring at the package in your hands, his mouth open in horror.

“y-you… lady…?” he stammered, “o-other… eating other…humans…?”

“What?” you looked down at the cookies and laughed. “No, these aren’t actual _lady_ fingers. They’re cookies!”

“others…” Butch crouched down onto the floor and was holding his skull in his shaking hands. “...eating…no… ”

“Butch?” You dropped the cookies and rushed to his side, panic rising in your chest. Something was clearly wrong. “Butch, look at me. They’re just cookies, no human in them at all. ...Butch!”

You reached out and touched his skull. He flinched at the contact, but didn’t freak out or smack your hand away, and you slowly tried again until his face was in your hands. You gently turned his gaze to look at yours. His eye lights were pinpoints, staring off at something only he could see, and his whole body was starting to shake. Your stomach dropped out of you. You could recognize flashback dissociation. How often have you done it yourself?

“Butch, Butch look at me. Listen to me.” You said firmly, yet gently, and stared into his quivering eye lights. “I’m going to help you come back, to ground you, but you need to try with me, okay? Just tell me five things that you can touch right now.”

“...smoke… dust… snow…”

“Five things here in the kitchen, Butch.” You took one of his shaking hands and put it to the side of your head, in your hair. “Feel that? What is that?”

“...hair…”

“That’s right.” You move his hand down to your shoulder, to the soft fabric of your sweater dress. “Now what else?”

“...s-sweater…”

“You’re doing amazing.” You smiled at him, shoving your own panic into a box to keep calm for him. You moved his hand to the floor. “Just three more things to tell me that you can touch.”

“....tile…” the lights in his eyes dilated a minute amount. “...skin… and hoodie.”

Good. He was aware of what he was wearing. “What are four things you can see?”

The white lights moved a little, widened a little more. “...table and chair… tile and… you.”

You nodded. It was okay to repeat objects. “Three things you can hear?”

“birds…” his eye lights darted to your chest. “breathing… and… and…”

He started to shake again. You gently pulled at his shoulders, unsure if he was the kind of person that would want physical comfort. When he didn’t move away, you slowly pulled him into you, so that his skull was against your chest and his legs sprawled out across the tile. Your arms were wrapped around him as you sat on the floor together. His bony hands gripped your sweater dress tightly, as if he was afraid you were going to disappear.

“What else can you hear?”

“...beating drum…” He must mean your heart beat.

“Two things you can taste?” You hoped this one would be easy. He had just sampled almost every ingredient in your dessert.

“...espresso… and cream.”

“Excellent.” You reached up and softly ran your fingers over his skull. “Just one more, Butch. Tell me one thing you can smell.”

Butch buried his face in your chest and wrapped his arms around your waist. You heard him breathe deeply. “...you. ...like a lily…”

You couldn’t help but chuckle a little. He thought you smelled like lilies? That was really sweet of him. “...are you feeling a bit better now?”

Butch nodded, squeezing you just a little tighter. Relief flooded through you.

“Do you want to talk about anything?”

He shook his head.

“That’s okay.” You kept running your fingers over his skull, hoping that it was helping to calm him like it calmed you. “You don’t have to if you don’t want to. But if you ever do, if you ever need me, I’m always here for you, okay? No matter what time, even if it’s in the middle of the night, just come and find me. If I’m in class… just steal Sans’ phone and call me. I’ll always answer. Okay?”

He nodded, refusing to pull his face away from your chest. You sighed, feeling your heart go out to him, and rested your cheek on the top of his skull. What in the world happened to him? When he was out of it, when he was reliving his memories, he had said smoke. Was he like you? Did he fear fire, too? You felt your hands tighten around him and pulled him closer.

“...thank you…” Butch mumbled into your sweater dress. “I…”

“It’s okay, Butch.” You stopped him from trying to explain himself. “I understand. Probably better than most. It happens to me, too, sometimes.”

That got him to look up. “you…?”

“Having the memories come back like that, yeah.” You nodded, chewing on your next words. You didn’t want Butch to feel like he was alone, but you also didn’t want to say anything that could push him back to the place he had just escaped from. “I had something really bad happen to me, too. It hurts to think and talk about. And sometimes, when certain things happen or I’m around certain smells, it’s like I’m back there all over again. You’re not alone. I understand.”

Butch smiled sadly and pulled away so he could sit cross legged on the floor. He reached out and pulled you into his lap, holding you like you had just held him. “it’s okay… Lily…”

You hugged him back and smiled into his red hoodie. Lily, huh? “How about this? Whenever you’re ready to talk about it, I’ll tell you about what happened to me. That way we both share something and neither of us has to feel scared. That okay?”

“...okay.”

You let yourself sit there for awhile, enjoying Butch’s presence in silence. Reluctantly, after a long time, you asked, “...do you want to help me finish the dessert?”

Butch shook his head and, recognizing it was time to let you go, allowed you to stand. He remained on the floor, picking at the threads of his black sweatpants. “...I’m going back… to my room…”

“Okay. Come find me if you want some company.” You smiled and kissed the top of his skull. With his cheekbones flushed with grey, Butch vanished and left behind a trace of sweet rot in the air. A part of you wanted to go after him, but the other part knew that if he felt he needed to be alone, then you should give him some space.

You stared at the package of cookies lying alone on the floor and sighed heavily before picking them up. Some of them were broken. That shouldn’t matter too much, they would all be covered in sweet cream by the time you were done.

A lot of your enthusiasm for making this particular tiramisu had vanished with Butch, but you had made a promise to make it and you were going to keep it. 

You didn’t know if you wanted to congratulate yourself for helping him or cry because you knew now that he had felt pain like you had. Maybe you didn’t have the same experience, but deep pain, the stuff that tears your soul apart, feels the same. It’s something that destroys you from the inside if you can’t overcome it. 

As you soaked the broken cookies in espresso, you bit your lip hard to stop the burning in your eyes, to quiet the empathy screaming in your heart. It was a terrible truth that anyone could suffer through horrible things, but you wouldn’t just cry about it. 

That’s why you needed to finish this dessert. You had to keep your promises and get back to your studies so you could graduate and help others like Butch, like you; anyone who was hurting.

You promised yourself that you would.

With the last dusting of cocoa powder in place, you slid the glass dish into a small space in the cluttered fridge and dug out your notecards. The first note is almost under the dish before you reread it, decided it wasn’t good enough, and threw it away to start a new one.

**Pap gets the first slice of this tiramisu. Everyone else can have some after. (This means you, Axe.)**

Satisfied that there was no way that Axe could read that any way other than what you intended, you tucked the folded card beneath the glass with the written part hanging out and shut the fridge door. Then again, Axe wasn’t allowed near the fridge, so maybe you didn’t really need the note at all.

You turned back to the kitchen to glance over the mess you made. You had always been rather clean while you baked; it wouldn’t take long to pick up.

As you stared at the mug of leftover espresso, a vindictive smirk came over your face. How jealous would Milord be to find out that you had better coffee than him? All you needed to do was boil some milk and add this to it in the morning and you had a latte. He didn’t even know what he was missing.

A laugh escaped you, chasing away the feeling of vindictiveness. He probably didn’t know, really, if he drank instant coffee. You thought about making him a latte tomorrow morning. Hadn’t your mom always said to be the bigger person? If Milord didn’t want to share his coffee with you, then you would have to be just that and share first.

The vindictive smile came back. If he wanted any more, then he would have to ask you for it; nicely. You doubt he knew how to do a pour over, and it seemed very unlikely that he would think to ask Butch.

With the kitchen clean once more, you began the climb up the stairs and back to your studies..

~~~

Humming to yourself, you split the espresso you had made between two mugs, adding just a little bit extra to your own for a small boost. You had stayed up late last night finishing your essays, but you still had those calculus problems to tackle today and the type ups of your completed assignments. Your math homework was already out on the kitchen table, waiting for you to work on it. 

The fact that you were almost finished with your schoolwork made you feel confident. If you finished everything by the end of the morning, the day was yours to do with as you pleased.

You pulled the sleeves of your red sweater dress past your elbows to wash your hands again after disposing of the grounds. There wasn’t going to be any reason, any chance, for Milord to insult you this morning. You were determined to get a compliment from him. It was almost a personal challenge at this point.

As the milk on the stove came to a simmer, the skeleton you had been waiting for arrived, his head still steaming slightly from his shower. (Just how hot did he like the water?)

“Good morning!” You said, a bit too cheerfully perhaps, because Milord’s purple eye lights narrowed at you. You just smiled and nodded towards the table. “No need to do anything, Milord. I took care of it. Sit down.”

You bring the pan of milk over to the counter and pour it into the mugs over the sink. As you set Milord’s cup at the table, you said, “I made you a latte. It’s a human one, yes, but you’ll still feel the caffeine, right?”

Milord scowled and glared at the mug you set out for him, his arms crossed over his military jacket as stood stock still under the archway.

“Before you complain,” you rolled your eyes as he parted his pointed teeth, “I washed my hands before touching anything, after handling garbage, and I washed the pans and mugs before using them. And I got my cut all healed up yesterday.” You wiggle the digit before his eye lights so he could see for himself. “Does that satisfy you, oh lord of lemon pledge?”

And if it didn’t, there was always the backup plan.

“....your stockings are wrinkled.” Milord grumbled and took a seat at the table. You snorted and brushed out your black stockings. For him, that was a pretty weak insult.

You took the seat across from him and steepled your fingers, watching him, a small smirk tugging at your lips as he stared at the mug. His eye lights flickered between you and his latte.

“Well?” You asked, your voice a mischievous purr. You knew he had absolutely nothing left to complain about, if he was resorting to comments on your clothes. “Try it. I’m waiting.”

A small tint of lavender creeped across his nasal ridge. He picked up the mug with a gloved hand, stared into it, and said icily, “You poisoned it, didn’t you?”

You laughed. “No, I didn’t. You’re just afraid you’ll like it and that you’ll have to finally say something nice to me.”

As his purple eye lights flickered between you and the mug, you felt your grin widen.

“Oh, I’m so right, aren’t I?” You sipped your own latte in satisfaction. “You’re going to love it and will have to tell me how amazing I am.”

“Congratulations, your vanity has reached levels to rival Papyrus and Edge.” Milord scoffed and carefully sipped his latte between his pointed teeth.

You watch him closely, waiting for any reaction, any twitch at the corners of his jaw or raising of his bony brow. His mouth did indeed twitch, but not in the direction you wanted.

Milord set the mug down, frowning. “It tastes wrong.”

You sighed and sipped your latte. “How would you know what espresso is supposed to taste like when all you drink is instant coffee? This is the good stuff.”

“It’s burnt.” He insisted and got up to search the cupboards for his usual coffee.

Now he was just being petty. There was no way you could have burnt that espresso, you were drinking the same stuff, and your latte was as smooth as velvet. Still, you smirked and calmly, patiently, sipped your latte. Waiting.

“Human…” Milord slammed the cupboard shut and stormed over to you, the scent of frost filling the kitchen. “Where is my coffee?”

“On the table.” You smirked.

“Not that swill, MY coffee!”

You turned in your chair and examined Milord, wondering just how far you could push him before he got really mad. A small voice of fear whispered of what he could do to you if he lost his temper and urged you to give in, but you said nothing and kept staring back. If you gave in, he would know that he could walk all over you. You wanted to make a point that you were not going to let him bully you.

“I hid it.” You admitted, watching his scowl deepen at your words.

“Where?” His voice was quiet, icy, and his purple lights had vanished from their sockets.

You set down your mug and crossed your arms over your chest, staring defiantly back. “It wouldn’t kill you to say something other than an insult. Just ask me nicely and I’ll give it back.”

His left socket twitched and the scent of frost poured out of him, along with trickles of lavender colored plasma from his tightly clenched fists. You could feel the cold as his magic brushed against your skin and you knew you were in the danger zone. Time to give in. Standing up for yourself did not mean pushing someone else over the edge, and a compliment was not worth starting a fight over.

“Fine, I’ll get it for you.” You huffed and stood up from the table.

You retrieved the hidden coffee from the cupboard under the stairs and moodily set it on the counter for Milord. If Milord wanted a new cup of coffee, he could make it himself. You had at least tried to be nice. You sat back down at the table and pulled your homework towards you to open to the list of problems you were assigned on page 394. 

Math was never your strong suit. You had put off the final credit you needed until your last year, and you deeply regretted it. As you stared at the page the numbers and symbols made about as much sense to you as Egyptian hieroglyphs. You started chewing on the end of your pencil, not knowing where to begin, but knew that you had to try anyways.

The kitchen was filled with the quiet sounds of you scratching away in your notebook, occasionally typing an equation into your calculator, and of Milord washing his mug as water boiled on the stove.

As you flipped through your book to look up the meaning of a symbol (having x and y was bad enough, what the hell did E mean?) you glanced up as Milord made up his new coffee.

With the instant grounds measured out, he pulled a bag of sugar from the cupboard and added a few spoonfuls to his mug. You looked back at your book, a small frown on your face. That’s why he didn’t like your latte? Because you hadn’t added any sugar? You hadn’t seen him add any to his coffee yesterday... but you had been sweeping up the mug you broke. Of course you would have missed that. After all that effort, you had missed one tiny thing. 

And today was Sunday. You probably wouldn’t have a chance to try making him a latte again until next weekend.

You gave up on finding the meaning of E and scribbled out an answer in your notebook. It was just like x, right? All you had to do was find the value and problem solved. You started chewing on your pencil again as you looked at the next equation.

“Your solution is incorrect.”

Milord was standing over your shoulder, watching you work and calmly sipping his coffee. You quirked your eyebrow at him and he rolled his purple eye lights at you.

“This is not a variable.” He said and leaned over to tap the E from your previous problem with a bony finger. His purple scarf tickled your face as he took your pencil from you and erased half of your writing before filling in his own. “In this instance, it is used as a term-forming operator which replaces quantifiers in ordinary predicate logic.”

You openly stared at the side of his skull, confused. You knew Milord was well spoken, but it blew your mind to think that he would know calculus, _and_ be able to check your work so quickly without a calculator. Was he pointing out your mistake to help you? Did that mean he wasn’t upset that you had hid his coffee on him, or was he trying to thank you for making the latte?

“I don’t understand.” You said slowly. He glanced at you out of the corner of his eye socket. “Could you… explain it to me?”

“I should have known you would be hopeless.” Milord sighed, rolled his eye lights, and moved a chair close to yours with his frost magic. He pulled your books over so that they were between the two of you and took a sip of coffee. “This Epsilon here-”

“You mean the E?” You asked with a blank look as he pointed at the letter.

Milord groaned and pulled at his face with a bony hand. “Yes, the E. When it is paired with this term, exA, it denotes that some variable, in this case, x, satisfies the term x(A), if one exists. You can find the answer by…”

He launched into his explanation, pointing out other equations on your homework list that could be solved in similar ways and, though he sounded irritable whenever you interrupted, would go back and re explain himself in layman’s terms if you didn’t understand.

Halfway though your calculus homework, Milord ran out of coffee. Before he could scoot out his chair, you jumped up and grabbed his mug from him.

“I’ll make you more.” You smiled at him. He watched you skeptically as you pulled the instant coffee from the cupboard. “Please, Milord, let me. It’s the least I can do to thank you for your help… and to say sorry for teasing you this morning.”

Milord shrugged and picked up your notebook, no doubt to reexamine your work for any mistakes.

“Milord…” You carefully measured out the same amount of coffee and sugar that you saw him use, “Do you think, is there something I can do, so that you might help me again?”

His eye lights glanced at you over the notebook.

“Math is my worst subject. I’ve always needed help to pass it.” You explained and handed him his new coffee. Before, Dad had helped you throughout grade school and into highschool, but once you started college you had to find another way. There were tutors on campus, but you had to have an appointment to see them and only an hour at a time to work with them. “Do you think you could find the time to…?”

Milord slowly sipped the coffee and you waited with baited breath.

“I do not like to waste my time.” He said, swirling the coffee in his mug. You felt disappointment settle in your stomach. “However, you are not completely incompitent. As long as you do not expect that I will prioritize your studies over my own responsibilities, I will assist you.”

“You’re the best!” You squealed and hugged him over the arm of the chair. “Seriously, I don’t think I would pass this without you, you amazing, you wonderful-”

“That’s quite enough.” Milord snapped and batted you away, a lavender blush spread violently across his cheekbones. “Sit down and shut up. Didn’t I just say I don’t like to waste my time? If you want me to help you finish this, then stop acting like a child and pay attention.”

You sat down obediently, a broad grin on your face, as Milord turned resolutely to your books to pick up where he had left off. 

Throughout the entire next problem he refused to look at you, even when you asked questions. His tone was still icy, his words were still laced with the occasional insult, but you noticed that his cheekbones never completely lost that lavender color from when you had hugged him. When your heads accidentally bumped together as you bent over a particularly difficult equation, Milord nearly knocked over his mug in his haste to lean away from you.

“You okay, Milord?” You finally asked after he dropped your pencil onto the floor. You had barely even touched his gloved hand when you tried to take it, to do the problem as he had told you to do.

“Your thick skull is starting to test my patience.” He grumbled and crossed his arms, speaking towards the window above the sink instead of at you. “Just pick it up so I can be done with this.”

The pencil was just on the other side of his chair on the floor. An evil smile broke out on your face that he didn’t see, since he was so determined to avoid your gaze. He wanted you to pick it up? Fine. Maybe your thick skull couldn’t read the signals he was sending out to you.

You reached out over him for the pencil and let yourself fall into his lap. You felt his entire body freeze beneath you as you pawed at the pencil, letting it roll a bit away from you so you had to squirm to try and reach it.

“Almost… got it…” You twiddled your fingertips against the eraser and finally grabbed hold. You sat up triumphantly, pencil in hand, and had to bite your tongue, hard, to suppress a laugh at the look on Milord’s face. His skull didn’t have a bit of white left on it amongst all the lavender and his jaw was hanging slightly open.

You covered your mouth with your hands as a snort of laughter finally escaped you. You giggled between your fingers, “I got the pencil like you wanted, Milord.”

The noise seemed to snap Milord out of it, and he flipped your books over the table before stomping out of the kitchen, grumbling under his breath.

“What about my homework?” You called out to him, still trying to hold back the laughter as loose papers fell to the floor.

“Finish it yourself!” He snapped back.

When you hear a door slam upstairs, you let your laughter go. The kitchen echoed with your mirth and you clutched your sides, tears streaming down your face. Maybe it wasn’t the nicest thing to do, since Milord had helped you with your work, but you would make it up to him somehow.

Mutt was right. Sometimes, it was fun to tease.

  
  



	4. Ch 4 - Trees Company

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alright! Let's get weird! :D
> 
> So, I apologize, but this chapter is a bit shorter than the others cuz... I had to split it in half. The final conversation below was the best breaking point between them, and I figured you all might want something now rather than waiting another week or so before the rest of the editing is all done. Making this behemoth into two chapters just seemed like a good idea. I promise, next time, you'll be getting some Red action (;
> 
> Also, are you guys opposed to small music lyric inserts? Just curious.

Ch 4 - Trees Company

The snow crunched beneath your boots as you circled the outer perimeter of the immediate lawn. Great puffs of mist drifted away on the gentle wind as you breathed the chilly air and looked up at the bare trees.

With your homework for the week completed (you could type up your essays before class tomorrow) you figured it was time that you tried to find something to do as the house’s groundskeeper. Except, with all the snow on the ground, you didn’t know what else to do unless more snow fell from the steel-grey sky and gave you something new to shovel.

You looked out into the dense trees, knowing that there was another fifty acres of property to inspect, but something about those woods made your skin crawl. Maybe it was because you knew that other monsters roamed the mountains, ones that might not be as nice as the brothers if you came across them. Not all monsters liked humans, as you now knew.

That, and you weren’t a park ranger. You couldn’t find or read trails or know your way by the shapes of the stars. If you lost sight of the house, you would be lost.

Something kicked up snow at the base of one of the many trunks in the distance. You squinted, trying to make out whatever was doing that. It had to be small, you couldn’t see it too well from the edge of the lawn.

You looked over your shoulder back at the house, wondering if you should investigate. Whatever it was didn’t seem dangerous, and you wouldn’t lose sight of the house if you walked just a little bit into the woods…

With your hands in the pockets of your leather jacket, you trudged forward through the snow. One of your hands gripped your bottle of pepper spray tightly, your eyes focused on the thing kicking up the snow.

“Oh no… what happened to you?” You knelt in the snow just shy of the tree’s trunk and drew your hands out of your pocket. A dove was laying in the snow, breathing hard. Its feathers were sticking up all over the place and one of its wings was bent at an odd angle. As you reached for it it tried to fly. All its frantic flapping could do was kick up snow into your face.

“It’s okay,” you crooned, gently picking up the frightened animal. The dove’s heart was beating so wildly it practically vibrated. “Don’t worry, I’m not going to eat you, I want to help.”

As you brought the dove into the warm folds of your jacket to keep it safe, it stilled, as if it knew at that point that you weren’t going to cause it any harm. You wondered if monster food would work just like it did for you and heal it. You could take it back to the house and try. If it didn’t work, you could hail a taxi from your phone and take it to a vet in town.

A branch snapped out of your field of vision and your head whipped around. Goosebumps that had nothing to do with the cold raised themselves on your arms, and your mind immediately thought of some forest predator that had come for the dove. Were there wolves on Mt. Ebott?

As if the forest sensed your unease, a gust of wind suddenly blew out of its depths, raising the hairs on the back of your neck. Something was out there, watching you. Something was whispering your name…

Something poked your arm and you screamed.

You fell back into the snow and looked for whatever had touched you, one of your hands wrapped protectively around the dove. The other had whipped into your pocket and had pulled out your pepper spray. Axe tilted his head at you, a slow chuckle escaping him as his single red eye light looked down at you.

“Axe! That’s not funny!” Your cheeks reddened with embarrassment. You tossed a handful of loose snow at him and pocketed your weapon. “Don’t scare me like that, I could have pepper sprayed you!”

He chuckled again and pulled one of his hands out of the pockets of his frayed, blue hoodie and offered it to you. You carefully cradled the dove in one arm, took his hand, and let him help you to your feet. You angrily dusted snow off of your red sweater dress and black stockings.

“...you’re… easy to sneak up on…” Axe continued to chuckle. At least one of you found your fright hilarious.

“Why would you want to sneak up on me?” You asked moodily. “It’s not a very funny prank.”

Axe shook his head and looked out into the woods, at the trail his copper slippers had left in the snow. “...not a prank… practice.”

“Practice?” You followed his gaze out into the woods, curious. “For what?”

He shrugged and turned his single, red eye light back on you. “...not… being seen.”

That wasn’t creepy at all. “Why do you not want to be seen?”

“...so… they don’t... run away…”

You weren’t sure if you wanted to ask who ‘they’ were. Axe’s eye light found the lump in your jacket and you were saved from asking him anything as he pointed it out.

“...what’s that?”

“A dove.” You opened your leather jacket just enough for him to peer inside and see it. “I just found it, before you, eh, found me. I think it’s wing is broken.”

Axe looked up at you and tilted his head. “...are you… going to eat it?”

“What? No!” You covered the dove and started walking back towards the house. Axe trotted along after you. “I want to help it. Once it’s all healed, I’m going to release it back into the woods.”

“...why?”

“What do you mean, why?” You asked as you opened the front door and passed through the entryway. There was no point in taking off your boots. Whether your theory worked, or didn’t, you would be back outside in a moment.

“...why… help it? it’s… broken.”

“That doesn’t matter.” You searched the cupboards with one hand until you found the bread amongst the brothers’ shelves. Axe watched you carefully as you tore off a small piece of crust and drew the dove out of your jacket to offer it the food. “Just because it’s a little messed up doesn’t mean it’s done for.”

The dove turned its head away from your fingers and tried to return to the warmth and safety of your jacket. You had to close your fingers gently around its body to prevent it from falling off your hand.

“Come on,” you crooned gently and dropped the bread into your palm to offer it again. “It’s okay, little guy. This might make you feel better. Try it.”

The bird twisted its head from side to side, its black eyes investigating the bread crust. Axe continued to watch you, a curious gleam in his eyelight. Finally, the dove seemed to like the look of the food and it pecked at your palm. The hard pokes from its little beak make you flinch, but you tried your best to remain steady.

The bread seemed to do the trick. No sooner had the crust disappeared and the awkward angle of the bird’s wing righted itself; its feathers smoothed down. The dove seemed to notice the healing and immediately took off out of your hand.

“Ah! No! Catch it!” You shouted to Axe and tried to grab the dove as it flew around the kitchen, looking for an exit. With a quick afterthought, you added, “But don’t hurt it!”

The dove flew towards the window over the sink, almost slamming headfirst into the glass, when the sharp scent of iron filled the air. Red plasma surrounded the dove’s body, halting it mid flight. It slowly drifted backwards, its wings still beating as it tried to fly, and back into your outstretched hands.

You caught the dove and calmed its beating wings, gently folding them against its tiny body so you could safely hold it without it risking more injury. It cooed gently from your hands. You smiled at Axe, who was shoving his hand back into the pocket of his blue hoodie; red plasma still dripped from his fingers. “Thank you, Axe. I don’t think I could have gotten it on my own.”

He shrugged at you, his skull still tilted as he watched you put the dove back into your jacket.

“Want to come with me and set it free?” You offered your free hand to Axe, who stared at it for a long moment. His plasma free hand came out from the hoodie and he wrapped his bony fingers around yours, his smile wide.

“...yes.”

Axe got the door for you as you walked back outside together. On the edge of the lawn, you took your hand back to bring the dove out of your jacket and into the winter air. You paused, thinking, and offered it to Axe. He had been the one to catch it in the kitchen, did he want to let it go?

He shook his skull at you, refusing to grab hold of the bird. You shrugged and gently tossed the dove towards the steely sky, smiling as you watched it spread its wings and soar away through the bare branches. A warm feeling filled your chest as you silently wished it a long life.

“...you really… like birds… huh?” You turned your gaze from the tops of the trees towards Axe. His red eye light moved ever so slightly as he examined you.

“Yeah… I do.” You turned back towards the woods, your thoughts following the dove. 

Many years ago, you had been confined to one room, one bed, for a very long time. The television had lost your interest after a few short weeks; it just made you yearn for real people. Instead, you stared for hours out of the window, at the ground far below. Through the slits in your gauze mask you had watched the faraway people walk the sidewalks and the birds fly around in the tops of the trees or past your high window. 

Sometimes doves, like the one you had just held in your hands, landed on the windowsill and waited patiently outside the glass for crumbs you could not cross the sterile room to give them. How often had you wished that you could fly away when you were lying in that hospital bed? How often did you envy their wings and their freedom; their whole, unmarred bodies?

You started at a gentle touch on your sleeve. Axe had reached out to you, the bone on his brow crinkled with concern.

“I’m okay.” You smiled sadly, pushing the memory of the hospital away and casting your mind out for a different subject. “Hey, Axe… what do you do out in the woods? You’ve been gone since yesterday, and Butch says you go in there a lot.”

Axe contemplated you for a moment and then looked out into the trees.

“I… find a lot… of things.” He said slowly and then held his hand out to you, like he wanted you to shake it. His teeth turned up into a grin and his eye light sparkled. “...want to... see one?”

“What’re you’re going to show me?” You asked nervously, wondering if he was going to use that strange magic to move you from place to place like he had when he showed you the shed. It was rather uncomfortable, and scary, to find yourself in a completely different place in the blink of an eye.

“...something good. you’ll… be happy...”

Your gaze darted to his hand, then to his eye light. “Promise?”

That vacant grin of his widened. “...promise.”

You slowly reached out and grasped his bony fingers. Axe pulled you closer and darkness pressed on you, your nostrils filled with the scent of iron.

Then you were surrounded by barren tree branches, limbs heavy with ice. You looked down, suspecting where you were, and screamed. The ground had to be a hundred, a thousand, feet below you, according to your startled mind. You frantically tried to steady yourself and slipped off the icy limb that you had appeared upon. 

Axe quickly snatched you out of the air. He held you tightly to his chest with one arm and covered your mouth with the other as you screamed in fear of the height you were suddenly taken to.

“you won’t… fall…” he slowly whispered in your ear, shushing you. “be quiet… you’ll… scare them...”

You wrapped your arms around him, squeezing his ribcage as hard as you could. You buried your face in his blue hoodie, your heart pounding in your ears as you fought the urge to look down again.

“...i’ve… got you…”

“Axe, I don’t like being this high!” You looked up and hissed at him, “I want to be on the ground!”

“shh..” Axe held a bony finger to your lips. “..I.. promised. let me… show you.”

You gritted your teeth and nodded. It wasn’t like you could get down on your own; you had no experience climbing trees. When it was clear to him you wouldn’t protest any more, Axe guided your arms up and around his neck, then lifted your legs so he could hold you against him with one arm. His skull turned towards the tree branches still above you, his red eye light darting back and forth.

He leapt from the branch and you squealed in fright, burying your face into his hoodie. Even though your panic, you marveled at the graceful dexterity with which Axe climbed. It couldn’t be easy, carrying you and using only one hand. Why did he have to climb in the first place? Why hadn’t he used his magic?

“...here…” Axe whispered in your ear, his voice barely louder than his breath, and sat on a new branch, placing you inches in front of him. His bony hand squeezed your black stockings and he pointed your frightened gaze towards the trunk of the tree. “look… inside…”

Slowly, you moved your head from his hoodie and followed the direction of his bony finger to a hole in the tree. Something moved inside, something white.

Your eyes widened. A snowy owl was sleeping in the hollow of the tree, its white head buried into the puffed feathers of its speckled breast. You leaned closer to the hollow and saw little white fluffs just underneath its wings. You gasped as a chick poked its head out from beneath its mother and looked at you, blinking its huge eyes sleepily. You had to bite your tongue to prevent yourself from squealing in delight. How cute!

You turned back to Axe, beaming. You opened your mouth to say something and he pressed his finger to your lips again, shaking his head. His eye light glanced at the family of owls, indicating that you needed to be quiet for their sake. You nodded and gazed back into the hollow.

So Axe liked to look for animals? That explained what he meant when he snuck up on you; he was practicing not spooking the woodland creatures. Watching things quietly, following silently… all that behavior made sense. You chastised yourself for finding it creepy before, now that you knew what Axe’s hobby was. What other amazing things had he found in these woods?

Your fingers were starting to go numb with cold. You turned back to Axe and pointed at the ground with a tilt of your head. He nodded, and you wrapped your arms around his neck as he picked you up and slipped off the branch. Once he thought you were far enough from the hollow, darkness pressed on you and you were back at the house.

“Axe, that was amazing!” You said breathlessly as he set you on your feet. “How did you even find those owls? I’m seriously impressed!”

A small red blush appeared on Axe’s cheekbones as he scratched at the broken hole in his skull. “...not easy… they’re silent… see well… only… come out… at night. and they… fly away... when they… smell magic.”

“Well, you’ve got a serious talent for finding things.” You smiled and his blush deepened. Something Butch told you surfaced in your mind and you asked him, “Now that you’re back, are you hungry? I’d like to make you lunch, as a thank you for showing me the owls.” He nodded eagerly.

As you walked back towards the house, you asked Axe about the creatures he had found in the woods. Deer were plentiful, a fox had a den beneath the shed, and he confirmed your suspicions that both wolves and monsters roamed the woods beyond.

“...so don’t… go out by… yourself.” Though Axe sat at the kitchen table, he caught and held your gaze, a hard note in his low, slow voice. “...it’s… dangerous.”

“But I’m the groundskeeper.” You said as you pulled meat, vegetables, and cheese from brother’s shelves in the fridge. “I’ll have to go out past the yard at some point, how else can I do my job?”

“I’ll… go with you.” Axe’s eye light followed your hands as they grated cheese over a bowl. “...these are… my woods. I… protect them.”

“Then you’ll have to take me on a nature walk when the snow melts and show me around ‘your woods’.” You smirked and poured a box of macaroni into a pan of boiling water. Axe smiled proudly.

As you finished Axe’s sandwich and were just about to start the cheese sauce, Mutt wandered up from the basement. 

“What’s cookin, Pap?” His fangs parted in a yawned as he stretched and scratched at one of his eye sockets. When his fuzzy eye lights fell on you, he smirked. “Ah, morning, Robin. So you’re making us breakfast?”

“It’s mid afternoon.” You huffed at him and stirred your sauce. Must be nice to sleep all day without a care in the world. “And I haven’t seen Pap; I don’t know where he is.”

“...Undyne’s…” Axe said from the table.

“Who’s Undyne?” You asked and smacked Mutt’s hand away from the cheese sauce. “Don’t stick your hand into a hot pot!”

“But I want some of that.” He smirked mischievously. “You wouldn’t let me go hungry, would you?”

“Then I’ll make more food. Sit down with Axe.”

Axe smiled. “I’ll… get Butch… too.”

“Wait, Axe!” You reached out a hand to stop him, but he had already disappeared to find his brother. You had only started enough food for one, it was going to take work to catch up with additional servings. Grumbling, you tried to pull more ingredients out while continuously stirring your sauce. Homemade mac n cheese was one of the few meal items you could make, but it was easy to mess up and let burn if you didn’t constantly watch it.

“Need some help?” Mutt chuckled as he watched you try to grab for the box of noodles while stirring. How you envied Papyrus’ long arms.

“Yes! I thought I was just cooking for Axe, initially!” You barked, feeling stressed as your mind frantically listed all the things you needed to do to catch up. Thankfully, at that moment, Axe returned with Butch in a puff of iron and sweet rot. “Oh thank god, Butch!” You called out to him. He jumped at the urgency in your voice and his face flushed with grey. “Help me!”

“...the others…” Axe smiled at the huge amount of ingredients on the counter and disappeared again. You very nearly screamed in panic. Cooking for three was hard enough, but was he really going to bring everyone in the house to the table?

How did Papyrus manage it every day? Now it made sense why he stuck to pasta. One sauce to worry about, noodles, and a plate. 

“Okay, okay I can do this.” You told yourself and grabbed Butch to set him in front of the cheese sauce. “Stir this constantly and don’t let it burn.  _ Don’t put your fingers in there!” _ you barked and grabbed Butch’s hand from the pot. You fished in a drawer for a spoon and shoved it between his bony digits. “Use that if you want to try it, and blow on it first.”

You looked around and found Mutt at the table, sitting and watching you with a strange expression.

“Do you want to help?” You asked. He shrugged and laid his head on his arms. Incredible. He just woke up and he wanted to sleep again. No matter, you had Butch.

You wheeled around and started putting plates and bowls together. If no one else had left, that meant you needed seven places.

“Thank you Butch, I’m sorry for getting short with you.” You said quickly as you darted around him to start a new pot of noodles and to strain the old ones before they became overcooked. “Just keep doing what you’re doing.”

“...okay.” Butch gave you his lopsided smile and stared intently at the pot of liquid cheese. He didn’t even flinch when you came back with the grater and shredded block cheese like a madwoman over the sauce.

As you pulled out a knife to attack the vegetables for the salad, the scent of iron, frost, and damp wood filled the kitchen.

“What did you bribe the bottomless pit with,” Milord drawled from the table, “to keep him from eating everything in front of him?”

You caught the embarrased blush on Butch’s face and tossed an olive at Milord. It hit him square between the eye sockets. “You leave him alone! He’s the only one helping me feed all of you, if you hadn’t noticed!”

A rough laugh rang out from the archway. Red was leaning against it, pointing at the trace of color on Milord’s face, his golden fang flashing in the light. “shown up by th’ woman! some capitan yeh are!”

“Say that again, you inarticulate troglodyte!” Milord stood up so fast his chair fell over.

“Both of you,” you growled, pausing in your cutting of vegetables, knife in hand, to glare at Milord and Red. “Sit down, right now, or neither of you get to eat anything I make for as long as I live.”

“cutting words, kid.” Sans laughed as he watched his brothers grumble irritably, but took their seats with their eye lights watching your current cooking utensil. “didn’t know you had such a sharp temper.”

“Knife to know, isn’t it?” You smirked as Sans laughed again.

“OH NO, DON’T YOU START THAT AWFUL HABIT, TOO!”

You turned from the bowls of salad you were making and smiled wide at the sight of Papyrus in the archway. “Pap! You’re back! How was,” you searched your head for the name, “Undyne?”

“EXCELLENT! SHE SAYS MY SPECIAL ATTACK IS MORE POWERFUL THAN IT’S EVER BEEN!” Papyrus swelled with pride and his white eye lights spotted your half finished plates. They moved over to the stove and lingered on Butch, who smiled shyly at him. Papyrus’ eye lights widened in shock. “BUTCH, WHAT ARE YOU DOING?”

“...Lily… is teaching me.” Butch turned back to the stove and focused again on the pot of sauce. Mutt’s skull turned on his arms and he examined Butch with narrowed eye lights.

“Yup, and he’s helping me make dinner,” you quickly guide Papyrus to the table and return to your plates to fill them with sandwiches. “So don’t you worry about anything. And after you guys are done, I’ve got your tiramisu!”

“THIS IS… STRANGE.” Papyrus said from his seat at the table. “I ALWAYS DO THE COOKING. EDGE REFUSES TO COOK FOR ANYONE ELSE.”

“That’s not true, I saw him make a grilled cheese for Sans.” You said as you portion the noodles out and tell Butch to go sit down. Your stomach clenched painfully at the smell of food.

“WELL, THAT MAKES SENSE. SANS IS THE ONLY ONE WHO HAS EVER BESTED HIM IN COMBAT.”

“you make it sound like a big deal when you say it like spat.”

“SANS STOP IT.”

“I can go brawl night, little brother.”

“SANS!”

While you poured out a generous measure of sauce for each plate, you asked, “Where is Edge, anyways? His food is going to get cold.”

The table collectively looked at Red. He crossed his arms over his black hoodie and said roughly, “boss said he won’t eat anythin’ the human makes.”

You stopped taking an eighth plate from the cupboard. “Well... I won’t force him, then.” You said in what you hoped was a dignified manner, free of any of the small hurt you were actually feeling, and split Edge’s portion between Axe and Butch. You allowed yourself a small sigh before you brought everyone their meal.

“It’s not much,” you pulled an apple for yourself from your drawer and collapsed, exhausted, into a chair to eat with the brothers, “but I hope you like it.”

“I’M IMPRESSED WITH YOU, HUMAN.” Pap said as he examined the cheese sauce dripping from his fork. “COOKING FOR ALL OF MY BROTHERS IS NOT EASY, AND YOU MADE SO MANY DIFFERENT THINGS.”

You chuckle and wipe the apple juice from your lips. “Thanks, Pap. To be honest, I don’t know how you do it every day. You really live up to the ‘great’ in your title, you know?”

Papyrus’ chest swelled with pride. “I REALLY DO, DON’T I?”

You took a bite of your apple, “So who’s this Undyne you were visiting? A friend of yours?”

“NOT REALLY.” Papyrus shrugged and tipped the entirety of his salad into the void behind his jaws. “SHE IS THE TRAINER FOR THE ROYAL GUARD.”

“You’re in the Guard?” Your eyebrows shot up and you remembered the conversation you overheard. If Papyrus was in the Guard, he could answer all of those questions you wanted to ask.

“NOT YET,” Papyrus said, and your hope deflated. “BUT I WILL BE, ONCE I FINISH MY TRAINING.”

“What does the Royal Guard do, exactly?” You asked, aware that Milord and Sans had tiled their skulls towards your conversation. It wasn’t a crime to ask questions, right? And the things you were asking didn’t give your eavesdropping away.

“THEY GUARD THE QUEENS, OF COURSE.” Pap bit into his sandwich, eating half of it in one bite. “THERE ARE OTHER THINGS, BUT I DON’T KNOW ABOUT THEM SINCE I HAVE YET TO ATTAIN A RANK.”

“Queens?” You slowly chew your apple. “I heard about Queen Toriel, but who…?”

Across the table, Milord cleared his throat. You barely caught the movement of his skull as he shook it at Papyrus.

“NEVER MIND THAT,” Pap said with a glance at Milord. “THE ROYAL FAMILY IS EXTENSIVE AND I COULD TALK FOR HOURS ABOUT EACH MEMBER AND-”

“hey kid, you mentioned dessert?” Sans held his clean plate out to you, and Papyrus cut off his words to focus on the remainder of his food. You understood that the conversation was over.

“S-sure, I’ll get it…” You offered your apple core to Axe, who ate it greedily, before taking everyone’s plates to the sink. 

Why did Sans and Milord stop Papyrus from telling you about the Queens? Just how many were there; what kind of monarchy had multiple rulers? Unless there was a King, but wouldn’t Pap have said that if there was one?

As you plated your tiramisu, you reminded yourself not to be too nosy. It was natural to be curious, but Sans and Milord probably had a good reason for stopping the conversation. You just had to trust them and their judgement. They both had protected you and helped you, and it would be a poor repayment to their kindness if you tried to pry.

A smile crept back onto your face as you handed each brother a slice of your dessert, happy that you could do something as small as cooking a meal to repay them. 

When you set Butch’s plate before him, you leaned over and whispered to the side of his skull, “Thanks for helping with everything. Remember, they’re just cookies. Just butter and sugar and flour.” You brushed your fingers over the top of his skull as you straightened up. He gave you a knowing, lopsided grin as you returned to the counter to plate some for yourself.

“What do you think, Pap?” You asked as you sat back down and took a bite. The sweet cream mingled with a bite of rum. The spongy, espresso soaked cookie melted in your mouth; and the bitter cocoa danced on your tongue.

“IT’S… GOOD.” He said thoughtfully and took another bite. “I THOUGHT IT WOULD BE SWEETER. BUT IT IS STILL DELICIOUS!” he added quickly after seeing the crestfallen look on your face.

“It’s not supposed to be too sweet, that’s just the kind of dessert it is.” You smiled at him, to show that your feelings weren’t hurt. Pap’s reaction was a bit disappointing, but did say he had never tried it before. “Don’t feel bad if you don’t like it, Pap. I already have plans for other things to make and we’ll find what you like.”

You took another bite and your eyes glanced around the table for reactions from the others. The plates in front of Axe and Butch were already clean. (No surprise there.) Sans was staring at the bite on his fork. (Was he daydreaming again?) Red had scraped all the cocoa powder off the top of his to eat and refused to touch any more. (Axe and Butch were already splitting it between themselves.) Your eyes drifted over to Milord, who had his fork still sitting between his pointed teeth, his purple eye lights glowing as he looked at the tiramisu before him.

A little light went on in your head. You smirked at him, joking, “What’s the matter, Milord? Got a  _ latte _ on your plate?” (Papyrus groaned at your pun.)

Axe reached for Milord’s practically untouched plate and his hand was immediately smacked away.

“Hands off  _ my _ food!” Milord’s voice was sharp, like lake ice cracking, as he pulled the plate away from his brother and took another bite. A bubble of joy rose in your stomach.

Your eyes drifted to the last brother of the table, Mutt, who was stabbing his dessert moodily. It looked like he hadn’t eaten any at all. “What’s wrong, Mutt?” You asked, wondering if he hated the taste. “Do you want something else?”

“It’s fine.” His raspy voice grumbled. He tipped the plate in front of his sharp teeth and the whole dessert fell into the void behind his jaw. "I got work to do." He got up from the table, hands stuffed into the pockets of his black hoodie, and retreated downstairs.

You turned and watched him leave over the back of your chair. Was he feeling alright? Did you not cook something properly and it gave him a stomach ache? Yours was a little upset, too, from eating just an apple and dessert for dinner. ….could skeletons get stomach aches without stomachs?

Should you check on him? You were halfway out of your chair to do just that when a plate shoved itself against your hands. You looked down at the floating plate, which was dripping in lavender plasma, and looked up at Milord curiously.

"Don't look at me like that." He huffed and crossed his arms, turning his gaze to focus on his leather gloves. "Your portion sizes are far too small. Get more."

Red laughed across the table, banging his fist so that his plate rattled in front of him. "no  _ way _ , th' hard ass likes-?"

"Shut your filthy mouth you obnoxious cockalorum." Milord's tone could have frozen the room solid.

Red's laughter died instantly. He snarled, "...what did ya jus' call me?"

"Oh? Is an insult lacking in monosyllabic words too strenuous for that lonely neuron in your skull?" Milord sneered. His bony fingers had lavender plasma gathering around them, slowly filling the room with the scent of frost as he matched his brother's glare. Red stood up, his chair squeaking away from the table. 

"Come on guys, there's no need to get mad." You took a step forward, hand outstretched. Without looking, Papyrus pressed one of his mitten covered hands around your waist and pushed you behind him, his white eye lights focused on his brothers. Sans sat up a little straighter in his chair and made a motion that you couldn’t quite see towards Axe and Butch.

"big words fer a little man." Red growled. Crimson plasma was gathering in his hands as well. You dropped the plate as your hands flew to cover your nose, knowing what smell was coming. The plate shattered against the tile. The noise drew Red's crimson eye lights towards you, then they flicked back towards Milord. Despite the look of hatred he projected towards Milord, the plasma in Red's hands dripped away and began to fade. Pap's grip on you relaxed slightly.

"Indeed." Milord smirked. His voice dripped with sarcasm, "I had never thought that your diminutive stature reflected your wit. What a remarkable accomplishment for you, to string more than two words together.”

“stop antagonizing Red, Milord.” Sans’ low voice was calm, he might have been talking about how pleasant the weather was today, even as Red shook with barely contained fury.

“You’re blaming  _ me _ for this?” Milord scoffed and threw his hands up, plasma flying from his fingertips. “His outlandish insinuations that-” a lavender blush appeared over his nasal ridge. Milord seemed to notice this, and his fury doubled as he rounded on Red again. “Just because you’re pathetically weak and have all the personality of a psychological tire fire-!”

“yer DUST ya sonofa-!” Red leapt across the table and attempted to strangle Milord. The smell of frost and smoke bombed the room. Chairs fell to the floor with a crash as Butch and Axe leapt out of the way. “nobody calls me WEAK ya piece a shit!”

You whimpered and retreated until your back hit the archway. You closed your eyes, squeezing your nose shut with your hands, wishing that you could stop the fear flooding you. You wanted to stay something, to stop them from fighting, but if that smell of smoke got to you, you didn’t know if you could manage yourself, let alone do anything to stop the fight.

Hands grabbed your arms and shoulders. A pressing feeling squeezed you tight, - and then everything was quiet. Nervously, you cracked your eye open and saw yourself standing in the attic loft. Butch and Axe were by your sides, their bony brows crinkled with concern.

“you...okay, Lily?” Butch asked softly and ran his fingers through your hair. Axe’s red eye light followed his brother’s hand and then he, too, was touching your hair.

“I’m okay,” you sighed and let your hands fall to stop their touches. “Really, I’m fine. I didn’t smell anything, I’m okay.”

“smell...?” Butch’s eye lights fell to your chest, no doubt listening to the fear that still hummed there, then widened with understanding. “y-you mean… our magic? that’s… what brings… your place?”

“...what place?” Axe looked between you and Butch, clearly confused.

You nodded to Butch, catching his meaning. “Not all of your magic,” you sat on your fluffy bed and patted the spaces next to you, offering them to the two brothers. “Just Red’s. The smell of smoke is… difficult for me.”

“....smoke?” Axe sat next to you, still looking between you and Butch for an explanation.

“you… remember when… I get… lost… sometimes?” Butch took his seat and leaned forward to speak to Axe across from you. “Lily… gets like that… too. she… told me.”

“....lost…” The light vanished from Axe’s socket and his skull tilted towards the wooden floorboards. The way he looked just then, something in your guts told you he was hurt. Or maybe it was your guts literally hurting with cramps from your dinner. Either way, you gently put a hand on the back of Axe’s blue hoodie and his eye light snapped back on. He looked at you, at Butch, and then pulled you into a crushing hug. His low, slow voice shook slightly as he mumbled, “....thank you…”

“What for? I should be the one thanking you guys,” you said and ran your fingers over Axe’s skull, carefully avoiding the jagged hole lest you hurt him by accidentally snagging it with your nails. “I don’t know what came over Red and Milord, to just start fighting like that…”

Butch laughed nervously and pulled at the cuffs of his red hoodie. “they… do that a lot…”

“But why?” You asked as Axe buried his face in your red sweater dress. Sure, both Red and Milord had pretty abrasive personalities, but they were still family at the end of the day and lived together. “I get that sometimes it’s healthy to have a sibling spat, but that was a bit… much.”

“Red thinks…” Butch looked down at Axe and pulled him off of you, his jagged teeth frowning. “he thinks… that Edge will respect him… if he defeats Milord.”

“Why doesn’t Edge respect him?”

“...he... only… acknowledges… those with might.” Axe narrowed his eye light at Butch across from you. You looked between them, wondering what unsaid things were passing above your head. “...so far… only Sans… has beaten him.”

A crash echoed up from downstairs. You could barely make out Pap’s loud voice yelling about the kitchen window. That sounded strangely familiar...

You tore your gaze up from the floor and looked between Butch and Axe. To test your sudden theory, you asked, “Is that… is that how Sans got that injury the night I came?”

Butch looked nervously towards Axe, who shrugged. “...Sans said… if you wanted… to stay… that was your… choice. Edge… wanted to…. fight you. “

“to see if you… were strong enough. ...worthy.” Butch explained, pulling at his red cuffs again. “he... hates weakness… and he thinks… humans are weak…”

You leaned back on your elbows, your head spinning with this information. So Sans literally fought for you to stay? Then why did he try to take you home that night? Why did he ignore your emails and put up such a resistance against you staying when you came back to the house?

“Well, that’s a pretty stupid reason to hate humans.” You mumbled and laid back on your bed to stare at the ceiling, wondering why the hell Sans had acted the way he did. Unable to come up with any reasonable explanation, you asked, “So then if Red wants Edge to think he’s strong, why doesn’t he fight Edge himself? Or Sans?”

Butch visibly winced at the question and looked away. Axe explained, “...Sans is… the top. ...then Edge. ...Red and Milord… are tied. Red… hits harder… but Milord is… clever. ...he uses… strategy and… wins every time.”

“What, you guys tier yourself on how strong you are?” You raise a disbelieving eyebrow at Axe, who nodded. “That’s, and take no offence, but that’s really stupid.”

“Edge doesn't… think so.” Butch shifted uncomfortably on your sheets. “it’s... how he… chooses to treat us… based on… where we are…”

“...and you’re on the bottom.” Axe poked your arm.

You winced as your stomach cramped again, but Axe must have thought he poked you too hard, because he started gently rubbing that place with his hand. You half wished his hand was rubbing your belly; those cramps were really something awful.

“How could Edge even rate you all like that?” You wondered aloud. What an awful way to throw your weight around and force a hierarchy on your family; by forcing them to fight just to be treated better by one individual. No one Red and Milord were so grumpy all the time.

“...easy.” Axe ticked off names on his fingers as he slowly said them. “...Sans… Edge... me… Milord and Red…”

“No, I don’t want to know it!” You sat up and grabbed Axe’s fingers to stop him listing. “You guys shouldn’t be ranked at all, least of all like that!”

“you... think so?” Butch raised a bony brow at you.

“Of course!”

“but... Edge says… strength is everything…”

You threw your hands up in frustration. “There are dozens of definitions of strength. Strength of character, of fortitude, of will... The least of them, in my opinion, is how hard you can hit something. If you have to judge someone, it should be on how much you like them. Even then, strength doesn’t matter, because you can care for someone and have them be first in your mind based off of any number of things that are important to you.“

“...who is… your first? ...of us?” Axe tilted his head at you. Butch did the same.

“That’s not a fair question.” You folded your arms over your chest and glared at your black stockings. “That’s like asking me which of my parents I loved more. I don’t have a first and I don’t have to. When you care a lot about someone, you don’t assign a number to them.”

“you...care about us?” A grey flush appeared on Butch’s nasal ridge and Axe’s skull matched his, but with red.

“What kind of question is that, Axe? Of course I do.” You reached out and pulled the two brothers into you for a group hug. “You’re my friends. We cook together and go out into the woods to find owls… you guys are patient with my questions and help me with my homework and are just… kind. How could I not care about you all?”

The brothers wrapped their arms around you and you fell back onto the bed, each of them claiming one of your sides, burying their faces into your shoulders. Your heart swelled with affection as you squeezed them tight.

"...Willow… did you… get hurt?" Axe lifted his skull from your shoulder and looked at you, his bony brow wrinkled with concern. 

"Huh?" You blinked in confusion, barely registering what he said over the surprise of this new nickname.

"I… smell it too." Butch got up onto his elbow and started examining you. Your face grew hot as he and Axe started pushing back your red sleeves; lifting your legs to look for tears in your black stockings.

"Ohmygodguysstop!" You said quickly and pushed their searching hands away, your face pink.

“...but… you’re bleeding.” Axe reached out towards you again and you pushed his hand away.

"I'm not bleeding, I'm not hurt! How can you guys think that? I wasn't anywhere near the fight or…" you trailed off as your stomach cramped again and you felt a small wetness between your legs. The pink on your cheeks spread to your whole face and turned crimson. 

With a quick mumble of "Bathroom," you leapt from the bed, flew down the narrow staircase, and into the privacy of your restroom to check yourself.

How the hell could they smell that? You asked yourself as you searched the cupboard under the sink for your feminine products. Tampon in hand, you took an inquisitive sniff of yourself and smelled nothing. It might have been more of a problem, if you didn't bathe every day, but how the hell…? They had known before you did.

The cramps. It wasn’t just from eating mostly dessert for dinner, you had been about to start your cycle. Usually you had more of a lead up than this but… now that you thought about it, your temper had been closer to the surface of your mind than it usually was. Like when you got mad while making dinner, or when you got angry at Milord after you cut your hand...

You leaned your head against the cool marble countertop and groaned. If Butch and Axe could tell when you started your period, did that mean the rest of the brothers would notice it, too? Did they even understand what a period was; did monster women get them too?

"Ugh, why me?" You lamented, banging your head againat the marble and wondering if you going to need to explain human sex ed. It was something you had never had hoped to discuss with the brothers, least of all to Butch and Axe. Butch just seemed too sweet and innocent for such a subject while Axe… it would just be super awkward.

"Ok, I don't have to go as far as… details,” you whispered to yourself, trying to psych yourself up for a conversation you were probably going to have to have. “All I have to do is explain what a period is. They don’t know a lot about humans, and it's a natural part of being a human woman. You don’t want them to worry about you. Nothing to be embarrassed about..."

Even with your self consoling words the flush returned to your face with a vengeance. Mom had been so calm when she explained all of these things to you back in middle school. How had she done it with such a straight face? Perhaps it was because you were her daughter. And now you had to explain this to, not only your friends, but  _ men _ .

Taking a deep breath, you steadied your nerves. They were just worried about you. If you didn't take the time to explain, they might think something was wrong with you. With that thought to help brace you, you opened the bathroom door.

Axe and Butch stood just outside; Axe's hand hung midair as if he had been about to knock. You pointed up the narrow staircase and said, "Upstairs. I'll explain what I can, okay?" 

With nervous glances at each other, the two brothers obeyed. It wasn't until they were both seated once more on the cream colored sheets of your bed with you standing before them that you spoke. With a slightly shaking voice, you said, "First off, I'm not injured. Second, I've never really had to explain this to anyone before, so I'll do my best for you guys… but if you have questions..."

"are you… alright?" Butch asked quietly. His white eye lights drifted over your body like he would suddenly spot a stab wound or some other injury.

"I'm perfectly fine!" You said, you voice a little higher than normal. "It's… what you guys smelled… I started my cycle, okay?"

Your face burned as you admitted this. The two brothers tilted their heads. It would have been comical, if not for your embarrassment.

"Do… monster women not get that?” You asked, your stomach feeling like it had vanished from your guts, even as those guts twinged painfully with another cramp. Butch and Axe still looked confused, so you forced out the words, “You know, periods? The bleeding that comes after ovulation?”

“...oh!” Axe’s vacant grin widened, his red eye light glowing with understanding. “...you mean... heat?”

“but monster women… don’t bleed after heat.” Butch looked between you and Axe, still confused.

“...the wolves… in the forest do… sometimes.” Axe turned to his brother and scratched at his own bony chin while he thought. “...if… they fail… to breed. but… they’ll come… into heat again… every spring.”

“every… year?” Butch looked disturbed by the thought. “how can they… do that… so often?”

“...food and… safe shelter… are plentiful here.” Axe looked out the circular window, out at the forest. “...not like… the Underground.”

“Wait, so monsters…” You furrowed your own brow, trying to understand what Axe was explaining to Butch, and thankful that they didn’t ask any more from you. “Do they really go into heat like… like wolves?”

Axe nodded. “...it’s… very rare. usually… conditions… are not good. ...but… when they are… our females… go into heat… to let us… the males… know they are ready… to mate.”

Both you and Butch flushed at this information.

You didn’t want to ask this question, but your curiosity made you. In a quiet voice you asked, “And you… can smell it? Like with my...”

“...yes. ...how else… would we know?” Axe smiled at you, clearly not understanding how awkward the air in the room had become. “...our… sense of smell… is very good.”

The entirety of your insides vanished. “So, what happens when…?”

“...we… just know.” Axe tilted his skull at you. “...it’s not… like wolves. we… aren’t animals. We can… control ourselves. ...our females… go into heat… when they have… a mate in mind. but…” a glazed look came over Axe’s smiling face and Butch pulled his red hoodie up to cover his face. “...it’s… a very… enticing smell…”

You buried your red face in your hands. What would they say if you told them that humans were so drastically different from monsters? Your cycle happened every month, and you had no control over it. Unless you went on birth control, but you didn’t have the health insurance to cover that. You never needed it, since you hadn’t been sexually active since your sophomore year. Should you tell them?

“So… humans are a bit different.” You peaked through your hands and stared at the floor. It would be better to say something, to prepare them, if you weren’t going to avoid them during certain parts of your cycle. “But.. before I say… you guys can control yourselves, right? When you’re around a monster in heat? It’s not like you lose your minds or…”

Axe’s laugh echoed off the high, slanted ceiling. “...not… animals, remember… Willow?”

You nodded, feeling a bit better. “Yeah, I remember. So, the things with humans… we have our cycle, our um, heat, every month.”

“what...!?” Butch squeaked and jumped with such force that he actually fell off the bed. Axe just stared at you, his single eye light widening to the point it nearly filled his socket.

“W-we can’t control it!” You said quickly, desperate to explain. “It’s only for a few days, I think, that we ovulate, and then a week or so after that we bleed, and then we recover and it starts all over again. We’re not like you, human men can’t… smell when women are fertile. We just-” your face burned, “-just keep trying until it happens.”

You stared at the floor, not wanting to make eye contact with anyone. Out of the corner of your eye, you could see Butch’s black sockets poking out from beyond the bed as he lay on the floor, and Axe was sitting still. No doubt he was still staring at you.

“Well, now we all learned something new today.” You said, your voice high again. You got up and went to your backpack, still avoiding eye contact, and pulled out your notebooks. “I’ve, um, got to get some of my essays typed up before school tomorrow. Do you guys have a computer?”

“...Mutt and… Milord do.” Axe was still watching you curiously. You knew this because you caught his gaze when you turned around, notebooks clutched tightly to your chest, but quickly looked away. “...his room… is next to mine. ...which is… next to Butch.”

With a mumbled, “Thanks,” you fled the attic loft to the landing below.

It was quiet on the second floor. The fight in the kitchen must be over. You shuffled your feet, glad that you had an excuse to leave your room, and the awkward conversation, behind. But now you had to face another of the brothers and possibly have that same talk all over again.

Nope. No way. You weren’t going to do that, you’d find some excuse if they asked you about the scent currently following you. 

Looking towards the end of the hall, you counted the doors until your eyes rested on Milord’s room. He probably wouldn’t ask too many questions, but what if he was still angry from his fight with Red? Milord was touchy at the best of times, even though he seemed to be getting better with you, but it was best if you didn’t press your luck with him right now.

You climbed down the wide, oak steps and headed for the basement. (Someone had already cleaned the kitchen and taped plastic over the broken window over the sink.) Mutt was always understanding, and you wanted to check on him anyways. He seemed upset about something during dinner and you felt bad that you didn’t go to him right away.

You knocked on the door to the basement. When you didn’t get a reply, you tried again. Thinking that he might not be able to hear you at the top of the stairs, you cracked the door open to call down, “Mutt? Are you there?”

“What do you want?” Mutt’s raspy voice called up. He sounded irritated.

“Mostly to check on you.” You opened the door a little wider and stood at the top of the creaky, wooden steps. “Can I come down?”

“...sure.”

The steps groaned the whole way down. A chill leaked from the concrete walls and floor, which you could feel even through your red sweater dress and black stockings. The single bulb hanging from the ceiling was off; the only light came from the computer in the corner, which Mutt was seated at. An unlit, black cigarette hung between his pointed teeth.

“Hey, Mutt.” You said and approached the back of his chair. His bony fingers danced across his keyboard to minimize whatever he was working on. “How are you feeling? You seemed upset at dinner… did I not cook something right?”

Mutt turned in his chair to face you, his pointed teeth turned down into a scowl. “I’m fine.”

“You don’t look fine.” You pointed at his scowl and his red eye lights narrowed at you, at the notebooks in your hands. 

“...why do you smell like blood?”

Your face immediately reddened and your mind raced to come up with an explanation. “It’s… um, it’s… post heat. Humans bleed after it… so… nevermind. I’m fine. I’m worried about you.”

Mutt’s scowl deepened, his fangs almost biting through his cigarette. “What do you really want, human?”

“Human?” Your eyebrows jumped to your hairline, your embarrassment forgotten. “I thought you liked to call me ‘Robin’?”

“Apparently you prefer ‘Lily’.” Mutt grumbled and swiveled around in his chair again so he was facing the computer, his arms crossed over his chest.

“You’re… upset that Butch gave me a nickname?” You shuffled on your feet, trying to keep them off the cold, concrete floor. “Is that what’s bothering you?”

He refused to answer you, so you tried to walk around the chair to face him. He swiveled away again, even going so far as to turn his skull in the other direction.

“Come on, Mutt, be reasonable.” You pleaded and set your notebooks on his desk to try and turn the chair. It was immovable with Mutt’s resistance. “Was it something I did? Can we just talk about it?”

“Which do you prefer, then?” Mutt turned the chair slightly, but still resoluting facing away from you. “‘Robin’ or ‘Lily’?”

Was this really about the nickname? “I-I like them both.” You stood still, knowing that he wouldn’t face you no matter how much you danced around the chair. “I like the nicknames you guys give to me, since all of them mean something to you.”

“What do you mean, ‘all of them’?” Mutt turned slightly to glare at you out of the corner of his socket. His cigarette was gone; he must have either bitten clean though it, or eaten it.

“W-well, I guess Axe likes to call me ‘Willow’ now…”

Mutt growled angrily and stood up from his chair to stomp over to his bed. He fell onto it face first, pulled his black hood over his head, and buried his face in his arms. You followed him and sat on the edge of the bare mattress. When you reached out to touch his sleeve, he jerked it out of your grasp. “Go away.”

“Do you really want me to?” You asked sadly. You could recognize that he was jealous, but you didn’t know how to comfort him. As moments passed and he didn’t reply, you scooted a bit closer to him on the bed.

“Why don’t you go find one of my brothers, since you like being with them so much?” He snapped as you sat near him, but not touching him. 

“Because I want to be here, with you.” 

Mutt snorted his disbelief into his sheets. “Yeah, sure. You want to be around the one that sleeps half the day and spends the other half in the basement.” He added bitterly, his voice muffled by the sheets, “My brothers are way more interesting than me.”

“That’s not true.” You shook your head and laid on your belly so that your face was close to Mutt’s. “You’re all interesting, in your own ways, and I like you all for those unique reasons. I want to be around you right now because you’re the one that makes me the most comfortable. Even when you are teasing me.” As an afterthought, and with a small hope it might make Mutt feel better, you added, “And I kind of like it when you do. It’s fun.”

Mutt lifted his head just enough to stare at you with a single red eye light.

“It’s embarrassing, I admit.” You said with pink on your cheeks, “but it makes me smile after. And I hope you don’t mind, but I already kind of think of you as the one I want to go to when I feel like I need help. Not just for questions on monster kind, but when… when I have my own issues.”

When he didn’t say anything, you took that as a sign to continue. “You know the most about me, Mutt. No one else has seen… has glimpsed my scars. The big thing about that is that you never asked me more about them. Do you know how much that means to me? And do you know how many people know about my fear of fire?”

“...no.”

“Just two. My therapist and you. Want to know why?”

Mutt lifted his head and nodded.

“I told my therapist because I needed help, to save me from myself. I told you because I trust you and you’re the first person I wanted to understand me. Do you think I would tell you that about myself if I didn’t want to be around you?”

“I… suppose not.”

“Listen, Mutt,” you gently took his bony fingers in yours and gave them a squeeze. “I would like to stay in this house for a long time.” You softly and ran your thumb over his fingerbones. “That means that, eventually, someone else might make me feel like I can open up to them. But you and I both know, and will remember, who the first one was. So don’t be jealous.”

“Who says I’m jealous?” Mutt scoffed, but you could hear the lightness return to his raspy tone. He turned his skull towards you, eyeing you with something you couldn’t read, and then pulled you forward so he could curl around your body. Your face burned as he whispered in your ear, “But what do I get? I want something that’s just mine.”

“W-well, you’re the only one that calls me ‘Robin’.”

“Mm… nope. Not enough.” Mutt shook his head and started to run his fingers through your hair. “What else you got?”

“Um…” You tried to ignore the way his other hand pulled you closer. His ribs were hard against your back, but not uncomfortable. Why was he so… hands on? “How about this, when I make those truffles for you, I’ll make a flavor just for you. No one else will get to try them. How’s that?”

“...better, I guess.” Mutt sighed and rested his jaw on the top of your head.

“Well what do you want, then?”

“Hm… can I… see them? Your scars?”

You stiffened, ice filled your body and you pushed yourself away from Mutt. “...no.”

“Robin?” Mutt propped himself up on an elbow, staring at the spot on your chest where you knew your soul to be, his voice filled with concern. “I didn’t mean anything by it-”

“No!” You turned away and pulled your legs to your chest. Your limbs started to shake and your fingers pulled at your hair as you squeezed your eyes shut, pushing the memories away. “No one ever, EVER gets to see those! NEVER!”

Mutt sat up and touched your shoulder. You flinched, but didn’t pull away. “Robin, I’m sorry, I should have known that was a bad subject for you…”

After a long while, you said quietly, “....it’s okay. I’m not mad. I just… it hurts to… remember.”

When your body stopped shaking you looked over your shoulder at Mutt, who seemed afraid to move any closer. You scooted back and hugged him. “One day, when I’m ready, I’ll tell you why. But not today.”

“...I won’t ask again.”

You squeezed tighter. “...thank you.”


	5. Ch 5 - ...too

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So remember when I said the last chapter was a first part? Well, here's the second half! That's why it's also kind of short... at least there wasn't a long wait for it, right? *laughs nervously*  
> Annnnd thanks so much for reading you're all wonderful people!

Ch 5 - ...too

You wiped at your tired eyes with the back of your hand, willing the words on the computer screen to stay in focus. Just a few more words, just a few more paragraphs, and you could email your last essay off to your professor and go to bed.

A loud snort from behind had you almost leap out of the old swivel chair you sat in. Mutt rolled over in his sleep, pulled his blanket black over his long legs, and snored on. You sighed with relief and turned back to the computer screen.

 _Thus, as shown by the extensive examples above,_ you typed for your conclusion, _the breaking of a harmful dependency by substituting a healthier behavior can not only inhibit a cycle of self destructive tendencies, but also encourage a new habit that can aid the subject’s treatment and lessen their desire for self medicating activities._

You attached the file to an email to your professor, logged off of the cloud drive with all your other papers, and sagged into the chair. Done. You were finally done. You pulled at your tired face with your fingers. Since you didn’t have to go to the library in the morning, maybe you could sleep in for an extra hour or two? No, you couldn’t sleep in, you had to wake up early to catch the bus.

The old box computer hummed as you shut it down. With your notebooks clutched to your chest, you made a beeline for the stairs before the light from the screen flickered out. The wooden steps creaked under your feet and you paused, listening to see if you had woken Mutt, but he was fast asleep.

The kitchen light was blinding after your long hours in the dim basement. Holding your notebooks over your tired eyes like a visor, you searched the drawer in the fridge for something to eat. Your cramps were killing you, screaming for chocolate, but you hadn’t exactly eaten a well balanced dinner. Your mother would roll over in her grave if she knew you were eating nothing but sweets. Sandwich first, then chocolate.

“What the hell?” You mumbled sleepily as you pulled a mustard bottle out of the door and shook it. It felt light; too light. That didn’t make sense. You had just bought it the other day. You unscrewed the cap and looked inside, just to make sure. Yup. Empty. With slow realization, you stared at the door of the fridge and understood that you had grabbed the wrong mustard by mistake. You shook your head to clear the sleepy fog and put it back.

You were too tired to care about finding your mustard and took the rest of your ingredients to the counter. A groan of frustration escaped you as you glanced at the small analog clock on the stove. It was past four in the morning. You just _had_ to go back and redo some of your assignments, like rewrite that paper on applications of art therapy, and just _had_ to go back and rearrange your argument on exchange rates for pyrite.

Mad at yourself, you tore into your sandwich. If your professors gave you anything less than a 90% on your homework, you were going to raise hell. You didn’t work this hard for your studies for nothing.

As you chewed, you wondered if you should try for a nap. It’s not like you hadn’t run on little sleep before, that was a normal thing in college, but doing an all nighter would be easier at this point. Two hours of sleep sounded especially nice to your tired, cramping body, but you knew that waking up after that would be a far crueler punishment than staying awake.

“Ah, fuck it.” You grumbled and searched your cupboard, half eaten sandwich in hand. If you were going to stay up, and if your body wanted chocolate, then you were going to make a cake. Devil’s food sounded heavenly.

Except there was no chocolate in your cupboard. You pushed the boxes and cans around, pulled out the bags of powdered sugar and the note card marked ‘human food’, but found nothing. No candy bars, no bags of chocolate chips or cocoa powder, not even the baker’s chocolate you had bought to make truffles with or the dry mix for your cake. You stared dumbly at the shelf, the cogs in your brain slipping as you tried to remember if you had even bought any at all. That didn’t seem like something you would forget.

The first sleepy thought to surface was suspicion for Axe. But he knew he wasn’t supposed to go through cupboards or the fridge; Papyrus made sure of that. And Butch, despite what Milord insinuated about him, was getting good at just taste testing. Even if those two were the culprits, why just the chocolate?

Or had you already eaten your chocolate and used your cake mix, and just didn’t remember?

With a heavy sigh, you flicked off the lights and left the kitchen. Maybe you really should try to nap. If you were imagining things you had done over the weekend, then you definitely needed sleep. But you could have _sworn_ you had bought all those things. You had promised Mutt those truffles, you could see the list you wrote, floating in your minds eye, with the names of the things you would need.

A crunch beneath the stocking on your foot made you pause. You bent down in the entryway and picked up a wrapper. Squinting in the dark, you could just make out the brand name for your favorite chocolate bar.

“What the fu-?” You smoothed the wrapper in your hands. It was definitely yours. So you hadn’t imagined buying all those things. But who…?

Further down the hall, near the front door, your eyes spotted the crumpled up bag of chocolate chips. You scowled and snatched the empty plastic off the floor. Any other time and you might have laughed it off, but you were extremely tired and on the verge of raging alongside your hormones. Who dares eat your chocolate?

A dull ‘clunk’ of some plastic thing hitting the floor reached your ears. You turned to look at the dark living room. As you stared into the darkness, your eye caught a bottle rolling away from the couch before coming to rest just under the hanging flatscreen. Even in the low moonlight coming in through the windows, you recognized that brand. That was _your_ mustard.

The empty wrappers crinkled in your fists as you stormed over to the couch, ready to chastise the thief. After all your hard work cooking dinner for them, they had the nerve to just take what they wanted! If they had just _asked_ you might have shared, but now-

Your train of angry thoughts was cut short as you looked over the back of the couch. Red was lying there, passed out, with his mouth hanging slightly open. The empty tray of baker’s chocolate laid on the floor beside him, along with your cake mix. A streak of mustard was on the front of his black hoodie and his red turtleneck had a dusting of chocolate powder on it.

You quickly grabbed your mouth to stop yourself from giggling. Not in a million years would you have guessed that Red liked _chocolate_ of all things. There was even a small bit of it stuck between his pointed teeth, on his golden tooth.

Your cramping guts reminded you that you were angry, but your humor at finding Red like this tempered it. A vengeful part of you wanted to leave him there, to be found in the morning by one of his brothers and possibly teased, but another part of you remembered that Red helped you once.

“Red,” you whispered once your conscience won and shook his bony ankle. “Wake up.”

“fuck off, Sans.” Red growled and lazily swiped at the air in his sleep.

“I’m not Sans.” You shook his ankle with a bit more force. When Red didn’t stir again, you gave up on that and tried to bat the chocolate dust off his turtleneck.

Red’s hand flew up and grabbed your wrist, his sharp finger bones putting an uncomfortable amount of pressure onto your flesh. You looked at his face and saw that his crimson eye lights flicked there, like an old bulb trying to stay lit, and that one was slightly brighter than the other. He seemed to struggle to focus his gaze on you. “who’re…?”

“Your friendly neighborhood spiderman.” You said sarcastically and rolled your eyes. 

“what ‘er ya doin’ in my room?” Red’s rough voice was slurred, like he had been drinking heavily. You lifted your eyebrow at him. The rum in your cupboard was practically untouched. Did the brothers have a stash of monster beer that you didn’t know about?

“This isn’t your room, Red.” You pulled your wrist from his grasp, lifted up the empty wrappers, and dropped them on his chest. “And this isn’t your chocolate. You could have just asked, you know, instead of taking it. I would have shared with you.”

Red ignored you and sat up. The wrappers crinkled as they fell to the floor. His flickering eye lights searched the dark room until they rested on the bottle below the television. He raised his bony hand, dripping with magic (your hands flew up to close your nose) and summoned the bottle. It slipped through his outstretched hand and smacked him in the chest with a semi hollow thunk.

You took a few steps back, breathing in slowly through your mouth, the rush of adrenaline coursing through you waking you up better than a dozen shots of espresso. You silently watched as Red picked up the bottle of mustard and tore the cap off. He raised it to his pointed teeth, let the thick, yellow liquid fall into the void inside his jaw, and crushed the container in his grip until there was nothing left inside. He shook the collapsed bottle for any residual drops, swayed slightly, then tossed it over his shoulder. The bottle tumbled down the oak stairs, the noise of it echoing until it came to rest by the front door. 

You tensed for a moment and watched the stairs, wondering if the noise had woken up any of the other brothers. Red picked at the empty wrappers on the floor by the couch, searching for any leftovers. When no noise came from the second floor, you turned back to him.

“Red… are you… drunk?” You quietly asked from behind your hands, still not quite understanding. How could someone get drunk off a condiment? Your sleep deprived brain finally recalled that Butch told you that Red and Sans like to drink mustard and ketchup, respectively, but you didn’t think that meant they actually got _drunk_ off of it _._

“notta ‘nuff.” Red mumbled miserably, shaking his skull. He attempted to get off the couch and stumbled. His hands grabbed onto your arms for support and you leaned against him to keep from falling over yourself. When he finally found his feet beneath him, he staggered into the entryway and back towards the kitchen.

“Red, wait!” You chased after him, finally removing your hands from your face when you had reached the kitchen. You grabbed his bony wrist before he could open the fridge and said, “Don’t you think you’ve had enough? You can barely stand!”

He yanked his wrist from your grasp, ignoring you, and opened the fridge, leaning against it as he looked inside. He tossed the empty bottle of mustard you had tried to use earlier over his shoulder and then pulled open the bottom drawer to rifle through your food.

“Red,” you pulled at his arm to get him to look at you with those flickering lights, “I really think you should stop. Please, you’re starting to scare me!”

Red slammed the fridge shut and rounded on you. He looked pissed; his hands clenched into fists, his pointed teeth were twisted into a scowl, and his golden tooth flashed in the moonlight. You squeaked in fright and fell back onto the cold tile, your heart pounding a tattoo on the inside of your chest. You were afraid of the magic that could appear at any moment and your hands flew back to your face to cover your nose. The crimson lights in his sockets wavered as he tried to look at you in the dark. The scowl on his skull softened into a frown.

“dammit!” he groaned and fell to his knees, holding his skull in his hands, and shook it like a dog trying to clear water from its ears. “makit stop! teh screeching…”

For a long while, you watched Red kneel on the tile. The moment of drunken rage seemed to have passed. Your heart calmed down and your adrenaline faded. It didn’t seem like he was going to use his magic again and you slowly took your hands from your face.

“Let’s… let’s get you to bed,” your voice shook as you reached out to him. “You’re not yourself right now. Come on…”

Surprisingly, Red allowed you to pull his arm over your shoulder and assist him to his unsteady feet. He did not help you much as you guided him down the hall. You nearly tripped going up the stairs by stepping on the laces of his untied sneakers, but grabbed the railing just in time to catch the both of you.

How was he so heavy? He was made of bone, and shorter than you!

At least you knew what door was his. It was right across from your bathroom, right next to the door leading to your loft. With one hand you fumbled with the doorknob and flicked on the lights.

Red’s room was… empty. Moonlight shone through a single, curtain-less window over a bed with black sheets; an iron frame supporting the mattress. Some clothes had been tossed on the floor and a lone mustard bottle laid by the closet. But other than that… nothing.

“Come on, up you get.” You tugged at Red until he rolled onto his bed. The metal frame squeaked in protest. You pulled off his shoes, leaving his red socks alone, and tossed them next to the other clothes on the floor. You looked down at Red, face down on the bed, your tired mind unable to think of anything to say, and turned to leave.

His hand grabbed your wrist, much more gently than he had grabbed it earlier. You looked down at the contact, at him. Red had rolled onto his side and had his other arm over his eye sockets, shielding them from the light. His rough voice was barely a whisper, “...don’t.”

“Don’t what?”

“don’t… go.”

He must be really, _really_ drunk if he was asking for that. Maybe you should keep an eye on him. You didn’t know if he could get alcohol poisoning without actually drinking alcohol, but there were other dangers. Like if he passed out while on his back and threw up in his sleep, and choked on his own vomit.

“Do you… want me to sit with you?”

Red made no movement, no noise, to confirm or deny what he wanted.

“I’m going to turn the lights off,” you said, glancing at his arm as he let his hand fall from your wrist, and made your choice. “Then I’ll stay with you for a while. Are you alright with that?”

Again, he said and did nothing, so you did what you told him you would do. As you sat on the bed near his head, he removed the arm from his sockets and stared at you with those flickering lights.

“what ‘er ya doin?” he slurred. He had just asked you to stay, hadn’t he?

“Sitting with you.” You said matter-of-factly, scooting back so you could lean against the wall. “You seem like you’re really drunk and I don’t think you should be alone.”

“ya stink… like blood.” Red rolled onto his back. His hands came up and he pressed his bony palms into his sockets. “ah shit, I fucked up again, din’nt I?”

“You smell my period,” you flushed pink as you said it and you were thankful for the dark. “Or you might understand better if I call it ‘post heat’. Trust me, you didn’t do anything to cause that. Don’t worry about it.”

“don’ fuckin give me that,” Red growled. “yer soul was jus’ screechin’ at me. ‘m not stupid. yer scared of me.”

“Not now, I’m not,” you say gently and shake your head. “Right now, I’m worried about you.”

Red scoffed and rolled away from you to stare at the wall. You sighed, feeling the exhaustion in your bones, and admitted, “All right, you were pretty intimidating when I first met you, but you don’t scare me now. It’s the smell of your magic that gets to me. But when that’s not in the air, I kind of like you, Red. Even if you are rude.”

Red scowled and slowly got to his knees, swaying on the mattress, to point a bony finger in your face. “shuddap, woman! jus’ what the hell are you playing at?”

“What do you mean?” You leaned away from him slightly, to prevent him from accidentally poking your eye out.

“fuckin’ what I mean! what are yeh up to? why ‘r ya so nice right now? I never did jack shit fer ya!”

You took his hand, which was drifting dangerously close to your eyes again, and moved it back to the mattress. Red glared at the contact. “I’m nice because I like you and want you to like me back.”

“yer weak!” Red practically spit at you. A cruel grin suddenly crossed his skull and he jabbed his finger at your face again. “I get it. tryin’ to get me n’ my bros to protect you, eh? actin’ all nice so you can use us, ain’t ya?” 

You slowly blinked your tired eyes at him. “Is that what you think, or what Edge thinks?”

Red recoiled so fast that he fell backwards onto the bed. 

That was all the confirmation you needed. “Red, I promise you, I’m not trying to use you or your brothers. I genuinely like you all. Yes,” you added at his skeptical look, “even you. You might not say nice things, but you _do_ some kind things.” 

At least he did when he thought no one was looking.

“I ain’t done nothin’.” Red slurred and crossed his arms over his chest. You sighed, exhausted.

“Stop pretending, Red, yes you have.” You snapped, irritated by your lack of sleep and his drunk attitude. He sat back up to glare at you. “Don’t think I haven’t noticed that you stopped using your magic around me, because I have. Maybe you never knew why it scared me, but you’ve made a point of not using your magic when I’m there and that means something.”

Red stared at his black sheets, refusing to meet your gaze. He was ignoring you again.

“What I don’t get,” you got up and put your finger in his face so he couldn’t ignore you. “Is why you do these things if you think I’m out to get you. You say mean things, then you help me. You are conscious of your magic around me, then you steal my damn chocolate! You tell me I have some kind of ulterior motive, but what the _hell_ are you after, Red?”

Those flickering, crimson lights of his traveled over your face, to your chest, and back up to your eyes. One of his bony hands traveled up to his skull to hold his temple and his crimson gaze fell to his bed. 

He was quiet for a long time; just staring at his sheets. 

“I… don’t know. maybe… I don’t wanna be alone?” his slurred voice shook, like he was about to cry. The sound startled you so much that you forgot your irritation. Could skeletons cry? 

“...Red?” you leaned forward after another stretch of silence to peak at his face. He turned away from you.

“kindness is weakness.” Red’s rough voice was quiet, almost a whisper. “yer gonna get yerself killed.”

“I think kindness is strength.” you said just as softly. “Especially if you can still be kind after the world shows you great cruelty. And if kindness gets me killed…”

You drift off, thinking of your dad. Of his back, running away from you; across the grass and back towards the flames.

The next words had to fight against the lump in your throat to be heard. “If I die because of kindness, then that’s okay. I know it will be because I was trying to save someone else. Don’t ever think that kindness is a weakness, Red, because it’s not.”

“then… why th’ hell are ya cryin’?”

You wiped your face with your sleeve. You were crying because you were tired, because your guts hurt, because Red was clearing hurting too and your sleep deprived mind couldn’t think well enough to help even though he was finally, drunkenly, opening up to you. You were crying because you had thought of your dad, of his sacrifice for you, and how it left you all alone in the world. You were crying because you felt guilty for the resentment you still felt for dad’s final act even though you should be grateful and proud.

You reached out and pulled Red into a hug, tears streaming down your face. He stiffened at your touch.

“I don’t need yer pity, woman!” he growled and tried to shove you away.

“It’s not pity, it’s empathy, you dumbass!” you squeezed tighter, “I know how it feels to be alone, I had nobody until I found you guys! That’s… that’s why I try so hard. I don’t want to leave, I don’t want you guys to hate me…”

Perhaps it was because your insult startled him, or maybe it was because your words finally got through his drunken skull, but Red stopped trying to push you away. As you sobbed into the white fur of his black hoodie, his arms slowly, very slowly, reached up and over your back to embrace you. He rested his skull against your shoulder, his face in your hair, and quietly held you as you cried yourself out. When they finally were gone you let yourself sit there, letting Red hold you, hardly able to believe that this moment had ever happened.

“Th-thanks, Red,” you sniffed as you finally felt better. You were surprised he had tolerated your tears, and your closeness, for so long without pulling away. “It means a lot that you..”

You let the sentence fall away. You couldn’t move away from him. Brushing your hair from his skull, you saw that Red had fallen asleep on your shoulder. Or passed out, more likely.

You chuckled, affectionately calling him, “Dumbass.”

With the intention of covering him with his sheets and heading to bed yourself, you tried pulling away from him again. His arms tightened around your waist and you both fell over on the bed.

“Red!” you hissed, cheeks pink as you poked his skull and the sides of his ribs. “Wake up, you drunken numbskull! Let me go!”

He only mumbled in his sleep and held you tighter. You stopped squirming and noticed that, for the first time, he had a hint of a genuine smile on his skull. It fit him so much better than his usual scowl.

You sighed and let your head fall against the black sheets. If your poking and prodding couldn’t rouse him, then he was definitely drunk and passed out. You were so tired yourself, it couldn’t hurt just to close your eyes for a bit, just while you waited for him to roll over and let you go…

~~~

Weak sunlight streamed through the window and gently warmed your face. You crinkled your nose, not liking the light shining through your eyelids, and rolled over. A hand tightened around your waist and pulled you closer. You sighed, curling up into the warm body next to you, wrapping your own arms around them as you buried your face into their chest. This felt so nice. How long had it been since someone held you like that while you slept? Years and years, not since your boyfriend in high school-

Your eyes flew open and you stared into the fabric of Red’s turtleneck. School. You tried to roll away from Red, panic rising in your chest. What time was it? It didn’t matter, you were definitely late! You didn’t mean to fall asleep! 

Least of all - your face burned as he pulled you back to him, mumbling in his sleep - with Red.

“Red, let me go!” You squirmed, trying to break his hold on you. Red grumbled incomprehensibly, the pungent smell of mustard drifting towards you on his breath. You poked him in the ribs, hard, and he growled, but slept on. Unbelievable, how much did he have to drink last night?

You continued to squirm and struggle, but Red refused to release you in his sleep. Getting desperate, you grabbed his skull between your hands and licked him, with as much saliva as you could muster on your tongue, from his nasal cavity all the way up between his eye sockets.

“th’ fuck-?” Red’s eye lights flickered sleepily in his dark sockets and he let you go to wipe your spit from his face. You jumped from the bed, before he could grab you again or wake up completely and realize what had happened, and sprinted out the door.

You practically flew up the attic steps and into new clothes in your rush to get out of the door. There was no time for anything else, no time to even brush your hair or teeth. You struggled with your leather jacket (in your panic, you had tried to put it on backwards), grabbed your backpack, and ran through the snow towards the bus stop. If you were lucky, you had only missed one class.

Since you were a full time student, and you had almost always had a full schedule, your body woke you up just after eight. That meant that you would definitely miss your first class, and the bus ride would let you walk in for the last few minutes of the second, but it wasn’t the end of the world. You had great attendance. The professors of your first two lectures understood (though the stern woman who taught Abnormal Psych took some convincing) and let you have partial credit, since you had turned the homework in before class had started.

That didn’t stop them from piling more assignments on you. Now that intro week was over, all of your professors were pressing the importance of your final semester upon you and hinted heavily that if you failed your midterms, you would fail that class. Not that there wasn’t enough pressure with the finals themselves being only a few months away in May…

You took extensive notes (you talked your professors from your first two classes into emailing you slides from that day’s lectures) and made a list of any additional readings that were recommended. You were not going to fail anything, not when you worked so hard to get this far.

As the sun began to set on the cold, winter day and classes ended, you walked across campus and to the bookstore. All of your professors had extra recommendations for the students, but you noticed that you were only one of a handful that took their warnings seriously.

The campus bookstore was warm and cramped, infused with the scent of graphite and vanilla. You walked through the aisles concerning your major, piling books in your tired arms, when a flash of green caught your eye. Lugging your selections along, you wandered across the store to stare at the section for botany. You set your stack of books on the floor by your feet and picked up the green covered book to thumb through.

It might be cold and wintery now, but spring wasn’t too far away. The workload your professors gave you today was already staggering; how would you find time to do your job? You didn’t know much about yard care except for the bare basics like digging holes in the dirt or mowing the lawn. And how in the world were you supposed to take care of the woods? It wasn’t right to just do the bare minimum, not when Sans was paying you enough to finish school…

You sorted through the botany section until you found a few titles that might help you. If you were going to teach yourself, you better start now, before you entered the homework hell before your major exams. If you knew what you were doing with the grounds, you could plan ahead and around your homework so that you could juggle your schoolwork and your job.

As you picked up your books to head for the register, your stomach growled. The tantalizing idea of grabbing fast food on the way home danced in your mind, but then you looked down at your stack of books. Even though you had money, you still had the semester to pay off. Now that you had a kitchen you could use it would be a lot cheaper, and better for you, if you cooked at home. Making a small detour through another section, you added a cookbook to your pile. You couldn’t survive on apples and dessert.

The bus hissed as you stepped off it at the base of Mt. Ebbot; the weight of all your new books strained against the thick plastic bag from the store. You lifted the bag up and held it with both your tired arms as you hiked the snowy road back towards Lane 66.

You leaned against the front door, breathing heavily and watching the mist of your breath float away on the wind with tired eyes. Your body shook slightly and begged for adequate sleep, but you shoved that want away. Homework first, then sleep, you promised it. Just get through the rest of the day and you can go to bed early.

The bag tilted dangerously in your arms as you tried to hold it and open the door. Too late, you saw the topmost books slip free of the plastic and into the snow.

“Dammit!” You swore loudly and kicked the door. The pain from your rash action only added to your exhausted irritation. Setting the bag gently in the snow, making sure that the other books were safe, you pulled your fallen books from the drifts and tried to wipe them clean with your hands.

The door opened as you were wiping snow off ‘ _An Interpretation of Dreams’_. Papyrus stood in the doorway in his pink apron, looking around. He smiled widely when he looked down and spotted you.

“OH, HELLO HUMAN!” His white eye lights looked from your bag to you. “WHY ARE YOU DIPPING YOUR BOOKS IN SNOW? YOU’LL RUIN THEM IF YOU DO THAT.”

“I dropped them, Pap.” You sighed heavily and dropped the last, snow free book in your bag. “I didn’t do it on purpose.”

“IS THAT WHAT THE SOUND ON THE DOOR WAS?” Pap stepped aside for you to enter the house. 

“No, I kicked it.” You pulled off your boots and carried your bags to the kitchen, Pap following as you thought about food and studying. “Sorry about that, Pap, I lost my temper. It won’t happen again.”

“IS IT BECAUSE OF YOUR, EH, POST HEAT?” Pap busied himself with pulling a pan out of the cupboard to avoid looking at you while he said that.

Your gaze shot up from the new books you were laying out on the table. “You know about that?”

“YES, AXE INFORMED ALL OF US THIS MORNING. WE SMELLED THE BLOOD AND LOOKED FOR YOU, BUT YOU WERE ALREADY GONE.” Pap set the pan on the stove and turned to look at you. “WELL, EVERYONE KNOWS EXCEPT RED AND EDGE. RED IS STILL SLEEPING AND EDGE… DOESN’T CARE.”

You groaned with relief and sank into a chair. At least you didn’t have to try and explain your period anymore. The few times you had to were awkward enough.

Pap’s skull twitched at the sound of your groan. His long legs swiftly crossed the tile until he stood in front of you and he leaned over to examine your slumped form. He reached down with a red mitten, gently took your chin in it, and turned your face side to side.

“IS THAT WHY YOU LOOK SO AWFUL?” He said, his loud voice filled with concern. “YOU HAVE BRUISES BENEATH YOUR EYES. YOU HAVEN’T BEEN FIGHTING, HAVE YOU?”

You laughed and took his hand from your face. Since you hadn’t seen a mirror all day, you had no idea what you looked like, but you must look an absolute mess for Pap to sound so worried. “No, Pap, I haven’t been fighting. I was just up all night, um, doing homework.”

Pap leaned back and studied you with those white eye lights. “DO YOU WANT ME TO HEAL THEM? THE BRUISES?”

“Heal… them?” You blinked sleepily at Pap, wondering what he meant.

He rolled his eye lights at you. “YOU’RE JUST AS BAD AS SANS, YOU KNOW THAT?”

Pap knelt on the floor in front of you. Even doing that, he was still taller than you, and you marveled at that while he pulled a red mitten off his skeletal hand. Orange plasma gushed from it, filling your nose with the scent of brown sugar.

“HOLD STILL.” He said as he brought his hand to your face and pressed it to your eyes. His touch was warm, and the smell of his magic made you smile. It made you think of oatmeal cookies and Saturday morning cartoons, of Sundays baking cobbler with your mom to take to the station where your dad worked. You grabbed Pap’s hand and held it to your face, inhaling the magic deeply, your heart filling with the love of those happy memories.

Pap quickly pulled his hand from your grasp and you opened your eyes. His skull was flushed with orange and his fingers still dripped with magic of the same color. You smiled like an idiot at that bemused look.

“Thanks, Pap.” Your smile widened and you swayed on the chair. “I feel great.”

Pap sputtered, unable to speak, and stuffed his magic covered hand back into his red mitten. The smell of brown sugar immediately started to fade.

“I- I DON’T… UNDERSTAND.” He finally said after a while, looking from his mitten covered hands to your face, the orange blush still covering his skull. “THAT SHOULD HAVE HEALED YOUR BRUISES.”

You laughed, a high pitched, crazed noise, and fell out of your chair. That was fine. The floor was fine. Everything was great right now, you could stay like this forever. Filled with nothing but happy memories and the smell of brown sugar.

“I’LL JUST, UM-” Pap took a step back, his bony brow furrowed with worry as you continued laughing. He strode from the kitchen and into the entrance hall. The sound of his boots pounding up the stairs reached you as he yelled, “SANS? SANS! I THINK I BROKE THE HUMAN!”

Your laugh fell to a manic giggle as Pap eventually ran back into the kitchen, Butch at his heels. You rolled around on the floor to look at them. One glance at the terrified looks on their skulls sent you back into a fit of laughter.

“YOU WATCH HER, I’LL GET MUTT TOO.” Pap told Butch, then darted towards the basement stairs.

“L-lily…?” Butch quietly knelt beside you, his hand reaching out, but not touching you. “are… you okay?”

“I’m _amazing_ ,” you giggle. You had never been so happy in your life.

Butch slowly, nervously, grabbed you by the arms to pull you up off the floor.

“OF COURSE I DON’T KNOW WHAT TO DO, THERE’S NO ONE ELSE LEFT IN THE HOUSE EXCEPT RED!” You heard Papyrus shout from the basement. He sounded angry, and that was funny. You smiled at Butch as he helped you into the chair.

Oh, Butch. Sweet Butch, looking so concerned about you even though you were perfectly fine. You were full of brown sugar and love. He really shouldn’t worry, couldn’t he hear how happy you were? Maybe you should just show him instead.

You reached out and took Butch’s skull in your hands, pulling him close. Your lips pressed against his broken teeth and you felt his skull heat up beneath your fingers. Your lips parted, to taste that heat on the tip of your tongue, but Butch jumped away and backed into the fridge, hitting it with a bang. His skull was covered in a grey flush and his hands had flown up to cover his face.

You slid back onto the floor, laughter rising again as a spark of heat started in your face and body. Noise thundered up the basement steps as Pap and Mutt burst into the kitchen.

“What did you do to her?” Mutt’s raspy voice asked as his red eye lights watched you roll on the floor in bliss.

“THAT’S JUST IT, I DON’T KNOW!” Papyrus paced the floor nervously, his red boots clicking against the tile. “I JUST TRIED TO HEAL HER, AND THIS HAPPENED!”

“Butch,” Mutt’s gaze fell on his brother and his flushed skull. “What happened?”

Butch shook his head and pulled his frayed, white shirt up far over his face and his red hood over his skull.

Mutt tilted his skull at Butch, his red eye lights searching him. Then Mutt turned to you, his hand reaching out to grab you, when Butch grabbed the back of his yellow turtleneck and stopped him from getting any closer.

“d-don’t…” Butch mumbled, his face half hidden by the t-shirt, showing only his grey eye lights. “s-she…” Too embarrassed to say more, he retreated back into the hoodie.

“Aw, don’t be like that.” You purred from the floor, looking at Mutt as he backed away from you. That heat was spreading, burning, filling you up. “Come here, little Mutt. I’ll give you a treat, too.”

Mutt’s face flushed burnt orange, his eye lights darting between your face and your chest. Pap had stopped pacing and was twisting his pink apron in his mitten covered hands, an orange flush on his face, too.

“Pap, get water.” Mutt said, not taking his eye lights off you. “Cold water. We’re going to try to shock her out of it.”

The next thing you knew was the feeling of ice drenching your body, dousing that heat. You sputtered and wiped the water from your eyes, all happy feeling gone, and rage rushed to replace it.

“What the FUCK!” You growled, chest heaving as you glared at Pap and the pan in his hands. You were totally soaked, and _pissed._

“I-I’M SORRY, I ONLY TRIED TO HELP-” Pap tried to hide behind the pan, cowering at the anger that equaled the joy you were feeling just moments ago. Near the fridge, Butch vanished, leaving behind the smell of sweet rot.

“Robin, calm down,” Mutt said slowly, holding up his hands at you. “We don’t know what happened either. Just take a deep breath and-”

“FUCK YOUR DEEP BREATHS!” You roared and grabbed the chair behind you, throwing it across the kitchen. You weren’t very strong, so it did not go very far, but it still caused Pap and Mutt to take several steps away from you. 

You stormed from the kitchen and up the oak stairs, your head angry, your heart hurting. Pap’s magic had made you remember so many good things; so many things that had made you feel happiness and love, but it also made you remember something that you had spent seven long years trying to repress. Something you could never have again, no matter how badly your body cried out for it.

You slammed your door shut and hid away in your room for the rest of the night.

~~~

You slept like garbage and woke up feeling like garbage. Depression ate at your soul, the kind that you hadn’t felt in years. You sent an email to your professors, letting them know that you were ill, and spent the day in bed.

~~~

The next day, when you finally left your room to bathe, you found your books and book bag in a pile on the floor by your door. Your leather jacket was draped neatly over top. You took them upstairs and ignored the bath. Who cares about that, anyway?

~~~

On Thursday, you spent the entire day catching up on the homework you had neglected and the notes and readings you had missed. You studied hard, late into the night, determined that you would not let this feeling conquer you. 

As you took a midnight bath, you steeled your mind. Whatever happened with the magic was nobody’s fault. Pap had not tried to hurt you, and Mutt and Butch had only tried to help. You would go to school tomorrow, come home, and apologize for your actions and your anger.

While you sat on your bed, braiding your wet hair, a soft knock traveled from your door and up the narrow staircase. You pulled your over-sized, green hoodie on, and your grey sweatpants, and went to the door.

Mutt was already halfway to the stairs by the time you answered. He paused mid-step, watching you, his hands in the pockets of his black hoodie.

“Hey, Robin,” his pointed teeth curled up in a nervous smile. “I didn’t think you’d still be up… It’s, uh, good to see you.”

“Hey, Mutt,” you answered with a sad smile of your own. The depressed part of you still wanted to be alone, but you knew you couldn’t hide away forever. “Thanks for coming to see me. Do you… want to come up?”

“Does that mean you don’t hate me?” Mutt shuffled his foot against the wooden floor, dragging his orange socks across the grain.

“I don’t hate any of you.” You stepped aside to clear the way for him. “I never did.”

Mutt smiled and accepted your invitation. You could feel the weird tension between the two of you as you sat on your bed, patting the spot next to you for him to take. His eye lights travelled around your room, at the clothes and books scattered without care across the floor.

“I’m really sorry, Mutt.” You asked hesitantly as Mutt sat on your disheveled bed, “do you guys hate me? For what happened?”

“Of course not!” Mutt stared at you, his red eye lights wide. “We thought, Pap thought, he really hurt you! We have no idea why his magic did that to you, it’s only ever healed for us. If anything, Pap thinks you hate him for-”

“No!” You shook your head, interrupting Mutt. “I don’t! What happened wasn’t his fault, it’s not like I knew what would happen either. He was just trying to help…”

Awkward silence fell again between you. You pulled at your overly long sleeves, and Mutt stared out of the circular window at the moon.

“We’ve been worried about you,” he said quietly, after a long while. “These past few days, all we could hear was your soul lamenting. And that sound it made after we snapped you out of it… Holy shit, Robin. Have you ever heard a barn owl scream before?”

“I’m sorry,” you hung your head sadly. “I didn’t mean to get angry and throw things at you. I probably really scared Butch, too.”

“Yeah, you’re pretty terrifying when you’re that mad.” Mutt chuckled and laid back on the bed. “But I don’t blame you. Neither do Pap or Butch. If we had been forced in and out of a heat like that-”

“What?” Your face flushed. “That’s what you think happened with the magic?”

“Well, yeah.” Mutt shrugged, staring at the ceiling. A slight flush appeared on his nasal ridge as he whispered, “you didn’t hear your soul, Robin. Before we poured water on you… it was one of the most enticing damn things I’ve ever heard. Calling out to us…”

Your face glowed and you were very glad that Mutt was avoiding your gaze just as resolutely as you were avoiding his. You said quietly, trying to keep your nerves from showing, “Maybe… maybe it was like that at the end. But in the beginning, I was just happy. I remembered my life with my parents, and the things we used to do together. I forgot all of the bad things that had ever happened in my life. When… when the magic ended, I remembered them. I remembered that my parents are gone, and that…”

You drifted off, twisting the fabric covering your legs. Mutt propped himself on his elbows and watched you.

“I remembered things I can’t have.” you finished, noticing his red gaze out of the corner of your eyes.

Mutt sat up and you leaned into him. His fingers found your wet hair and traced the patterns of your braids. “...what were they like? Your parents.”

You closed your eyes and smiled, their faces dancing in the darkness behind your lids. “I couldn’t have asked for better ones. They made mistakes, like all people do, but they did their best.”

You laid back onto the bed and Mutt followed; propping himself on one arm to watch you while you spoke.

“My mom was a social worker. She worked with kids from… not so great homes. I got to meet some of them now and then when they needed a place to stay. But they never stayed for long... When she baked, she always would bring some into work with her so that they could have something sweet. She said that sweetness was the first thing that could touch a broken heart.” You laughed bitterly, remembering her voice saying those words to you. “On the weekends, she would teach me how to bake too, and we would bring what I made to my dad and his crew at the station.” You wiped your eyes as the memories brought a painful longing to your chest. “Mom always made time for me, even though she was busy. She helped me with my problems at school, and taught me how to be kind.”

“She did one hell of a job.” Mutt poked your chest and you smiled.

“My dad was…” your chest clenched painfully, “he was really brave. He never cared about the dangers in his job, since at the end of the day, he helped people.”

“What did he do?” Mutt asked.

“He was a fireman.” You wiped your watering eyes with your sleeve. “H-he was captain of our district. He was stern around his men, but he was always a huge goof around mom and me. He taught me how to fight, and scared away my bullies and-”

The pain in your heart was too much to say any more. He gave his life for you, gave up his only protection so that you would be safe while he tried to save your mom, too. You had loved them both with all your heart; how terrible were you to still wish that he hadn’t gone back, that he had survived to be with you still?

Mutt held you as you cried, his fingers softly pulling at the braids in your hair.

“W-will you stay?” you asked quietly, your eyes slowly drying as you buried them into his yellow turtleneck.

“I’m not really planning on moving.” Mutt undid your braids so he could run his fingers freely though your wet hair.

You chuckled, hiccuping as you did so. “N-no, I mean, stay up here with me. I don’t want to be alone tonight.” You didn’t want to be alone ever, but you couldn’t very well say that.

“You mean, sleep up here?” Mutt’s hand paused and he leaned back to look at you.

“If… if that’s okay.” You pulled at the sleeves of your sweater, your cheeks pink.

Mutt smirked, his gold tooth flashing, and pulled you into him before flopping back on the bed. “Only if I get to hold you like this all night.”

You shrugged, even though you were more than okay with that. The lights clicked off and the smell of cloves drifted around you as you closed your eyes. Mutt pulled you into him and pulled up the covers. You fell asleep with him running his fingers through your hair.


	6. Ch 6 - A Song of Wants and Fears

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank thee, horseman of pestilence, for the extra time to write that you have bestowed upon me!
> 
> Nyeeeh, so... I had a lot of fun with this chapter. Hope you all do too! And yes, I have heard your wants for more of other characters but please understand... I need to set up some things in the story before they can come in and have everything make sense (Ipromisei'mnotignoringanyone)
> 
> Thank you for reading!

Ch 6 - A Song of Wants and Fears

The alarm on your phone blared obnoxiously, jerking you out of a deep sleep filled with warm dreams that you couldn’t quite remember. You leaned over the side of the bed, jabbing at the floor with your finger as you tried to blindly find the off button.

The annoying tone died. You rubbed the sleep from your eyes, checking the time on the softly glowing screen, unaware of the rising sheets behind you.

“Eep!” you squealed in surprise as Mutt wrapped you up in the blanket and pulled you back into the bed. The sheets trapped your arms and you squirmed like a caterpillar as he spooned up against your body.

“Go back to sleep, Robin,” he mumbled groggily, his breath hot on your skin as he buried his face in your neck. You felt a blush rise in your face as his hands snaked around your waist and belly and held you firmly in place. “It’s too early to be awake.”

“I’ve got class!” You squirmed again, freeing your hands, and pried his fingers off of you. You swung your feet over the bed as Mutt let out a soft growl of discontent at your escape.

“So don’t g-go.” Mutt yawned loudly, his golden fang flashing in the morning sun. “Just stay home again.”

“I can’t, I’ve already missed too much as it is.” You dug through your piles of clothes, searching for something clean. You really needed to do some laundry. Were there machines here at the house, or would you have to find a laundromat in town? 

You held a purple sweater dress to your nose, decided it was good enough, and grabbed a pair of black stockings from your duffel bag. With a glance at Mutt, who had already fallen back asleep, you dashed down to your bathroom to change.

He was still sleeping when you came back to drop off your sweats and grab your book bag. You watched him as you pulled on your leather jacket, wondering if you should wake him just to thank him for staying with you during the night, but decided against it. If he tried to pull you back into bed (your cheeks turned pink again at the thought of his hands around your waist) then you might end up late again.

As you emerged onto the second floor and shut the door to the narrow staircase, you noticed that Red’s door was slightly open. Memory from earlier in the week surfaced in your mind. Was he doing okay, after drinking that much? You hadn’t seen him at all (though you had made it a point to avoid everyone) and you wondered if he thought you had been avoiding him. Guilt bubbled in your chest for not checking on him after that night.

Red’s door creaked ever so softly as you widened the gap to peek inside. Red was lying on top of his black sheets, one sneaker on, and his jaw hung open as he snored. You smiled and pulled the door shut as quietly as you could. The smell of mustard was absent from the air, at least from where you were in the doorway.

You skipped down the oak steps towards the kitchen. A quick glance at your phone told you that you had time enough to make a latte and grab a quick breakfast. If you multitasked, you could make another grocery list while you ate. You hadn’t forgotten that you owed Mutt some truffles and thought about inviting Red to make them with you, since he seemed to really like chocolate. Even though it was Red’s fault that you were out of ingredients, you wanted to have an excuse to talk with him that didn’t involve mustard.

You dropped your book bag at the archway and flicked the kitchen light on.

“Turn that off!” An icy voice snapped. You jumped and immediately obeyed.

Milord’s purple eye lights glared at you from the corner spot of the table, his back turned against the sunlight coming through the window above the sink. His elbows rested on the table and he held his skull in his hands. Dark shadows sat beneath his eye sockets, and his leather jacket was slightly rumpled.

Slightly taken aback by his appearance, you pulled at the sleeves of your purple sweater dress. You noticed there was no coffee mug in front of him. “Morning, Milord. Do you want me to make you-?”

“Be quiet!” Milord hissed and pressed at his sockets with the palms of his gloved hands. “Your soul is exasperating enough.”

His harsh tone stung, but you examined his appearance again and wondered what had happened to cause Milord to look so… ruffled. As you watched, you noticed that his fingers pulled at the sides of his skull, at his temples, and at his brow. Understanding dawned on you. You had seen your mom get migraines before. That explained why he had no coffee; caffeine would only make it worse.

Keeping your voice as soft as possible, you asked, “Do you want me to get Pap?”

“I said, shut up!” Milord snapped again, his pointed teeth twisted into a pained snarl. 

Was there any kind of medicine you could get him? So far, you hadn’t seen even a single band aid, let alone a bottle of pills for pain relief, anywhere in the house. Even the medicine cabinet in your bathroom was empty. But monsters might not have any need for medicine; if Pap’s magic could heal everyone, the brothers wouldn’t need alternatives, would they? 

Then why didn’t Milord ask Pap for help? Was he just too stubborn, or…?

Your eyes glanced at the cupboards and you wondered. If monster food healed humans, did Pap’s magic work like that for his brothers? Sans had explained it to you… that monster food couldn’t heal things the human body did to itself. If that was true, and if Pap’s magic worked in a similar way for monsters, then it might not be able to heal Milord’s migraine. Then again, that was just your theory, and you could be completely wrong. Maybe Milord was just too proud to ask for help.

You thought of your mom again, and knew how much migraines could hurt. It had happened often enough that you would come home from school and would find your mom on the couch, in the dark, with a bottle of medicine on the floor, waiting for you or your dad to come home to ask for help.

Milord groaned and squeezed at his skull as your heart beat with empathy. If you couldn’t get him medicine, you only had one thing left to you that might help him.

You crossed the kitchen and came to a stop at the back of his chair, your frame helping to block the sunlight. You reached out and touched his gloved hands. He whirled around, snarling at you, wincing at the light that touched his sockets when you jumped back in surprise.

“I think I can ease the pain,” you said quietly, stepping back to the chair to block the light and gently guide him into leaning back. You could feel Milord resisting you, but he allowed your guidance when you did not speak again. You pulled his hands away from his face, pushed them towards his lap, and rested your fingertips against the smooth bone of his skull. His hand flew back up to grab your wrist, the leather of his glove creaking.

Your voice was barely a breath. “Just try to relax. I’ve done this before for my mom.”

Milord slowly let go of your wrist as you started to work your fingertips against his skull. It wasn’t so different from what you did for your mom. Just apply a slight pressure and don’t stay in one place. That was a little bit difficult to do, you couldn’t always tell how hard you were pressing on his skull, since it had no give beneath your fingertips, but Milord didn’t complain.

As your fingers danced across his skull, you made sure that you kept returning to his temples and forehead, the places where he had been pulling at. Those must be the places with the most pain. When you came to his temples, you made sure to trace small circles and alternated between a soft and medium pressure.

While you massaged his skull, you saw Milord’s shoulders drop and his hands fell off his lap to hang off the chair at his sides. His head fell back to rest against your chest, his sockets closed. A small sigh escaped him.

“Feel better?” you asked quietly while your fingertips traced circles at his temples.

“Yes...” Milord groaned with relief, the ice in his voice practically gone. You stared in surprise at his tone and chuckled softly. That might’ve been the nicest thing Milord had ever said to you. You spared a glance at the analog clock on the stove, squinting to read it in the dim light. You could do another five minutes.

Your fingers traveled across the back of his skull towards his neck; his spine. Mom always complained of tension there during her headaches, would Milord have it too with only bones? 

Deciding to test the water, you let one of your hands drift to the back of Milord’s skull. He let his head loll away from you, giving you access to the top of his spinal cord. You maneuvered your hand under his purple scarf and gently worked the back of his vertebrae. He shivered slightly beneath your hand.

It was so  _ weird _ to touch a bare spine! You had never really considered before just how intricate the bones of the body where; how many grooves and notches it had. It was all so warm to the touch. ...how could Milord feel your touch without skin and nerves on the outside?

Wait… hadn’t Mutt once told you that skeletons couldn’t feel physical sensation? Maybe you weren’t remembering it right, because you had evidence to the contrary right in front of you. You’d have to ask Mutt about it after school.

...School!

You carefully pulled your hand from inside the purple scarf. Kissing the top of Milord’s skull, you said quickly, quietly, “I gotta run, Milord. Get some rest and drink plenty of water, okay?”

Milord said nothing to you, though his sharp teeth rested in a frown. He leaned back in his chair and silently watched you grab your backpack to race out of the hall, his purple eye lights flickering in that strange way of blinking.

~~~

When you arrived on campus, there was a notice attached to the door of the lecture hall that your Monster Studies class had been moved. It made sense, there were only two other people besides you that took that class.

The new classroom was deep inside the political science building, in the basement. It was very dreary, with no windows to let in any natural light, and the air felt stale and oppressive.

The other two students had already taken their seats at the back of the room, their heads bent together between their desks. You glanced at the clock on the wall. Class was just about to start, where was your professor?

“That’s what I heard.” his hushed voice carried across the empty room.

“How did a monster get off of Ebott, anyway?” The fright in her voice sent a chill down your spine.

Your head whipped around towards your classmate’s whispering voices. One of them, a girl with her long, silky hair tied in a ponytail, caught your surprised gaze.

“You should tell her, too.” Ponytail nudged your other classmate, a guy in a camouflage jacket. He nodded and waved you over.

“Tell me what?” You asked, taking a seat near them.

“A monster broke the law and came down from Mt. Ebott.” Camo lowered his voice, despite the classroom being otherwise empty, and leaned towards you and Ponytail in a conspiring way. “My uncle is a cop. He got called to the scene two days ago in the middle of the night. Apparently, this monster broke into a farmhouse on the edge of the border and tore everything apart.”

“How did it get off the mountain, anyway?” Ponytail pulled at her hair nervously. “I thought Queen Toriel said that all monsters would be kept away from the border.”

“Who knows.” Camo shrugged. “The point is, this monster got to the farmhouse. My uncle said it was the ugliest thing he’s ever seen; like a giant chicken, but all skinny and sickly looking and with a spiky mane. When the cops pulled up on the lawn, it had already destroyed half the furniture, and eaten the family inside-”

Ponytail gasped, her hands covering her mouth. 

You narrowed your eyes suspiciously. “Hang on, how does your uncle know that if he didn’t go in the house?”

“He saw it.” Camo returned your narrowed glare. “He saw the thing’s jagged beak all covered with blood, eating a human leg like it was a piece of spaghetti. Then the monster came at the squad cars, roaring, and they fired-”

Ponytail squealed in fright. “Please tell me your uncle okay!”

“Well, yeah, he made it home, didn’t he?” Camo rolled his eyes at Ponytail. Camo's voice dropped down low as he continued, “But he almost didn’t. He and the other boys in blue fired at this monster, but nothing happened! The bullets just bounced off it like they were nothing. Then it started, and I’m not joking, it started breathing  _ ice _ everywhere. Completely covered up two of the cars like ice cubes!”

“How did your uncle get away?” Ponytail asked.

“You’d never believe it,” Camo shook his head and Ponytail pressed him to say more. 

You leaned back in your chair and crossed your arms, wondering if this story was true at all. The monsters knew the law, why would they leave the mountain? To eat a human? That made no sense. The only thing that would nourish a monster was the magic in their food. There was no point in eating a human. If that wasn’t reason enough, then there was the noise that they could hear from a human soul; too many people would be a nightmare on their senses. Especially if they were scared.

“So, my uncle and his boys are firing,” Camo continued, enjoying the look of suspense on Ponytail’s face. “And three, oh yeah!” he nodded at Ponytail’s frightened gasp, “three more monsters show up. A giant swamp thing-looking fish woman in this wicked looking black armor, and the tallest, meanest looking skeleton you ever saw in all black with this big red scarf-”

You started. You knew a skeleton that looked like that. But it couldn’t be...

“-and they come running across the lawn at this chicken monster, right? It starts breathing frost all over the fish woman, pinning her. The skeleton runs around the back and takes out this black bone as big as a club from somewhere and hits the chicken so hard it _explodes._ It must’ve thrown chunks at the cars and busted a tank, the smell of gasoline was everywhere. My uncle says it was the scariest thing they had ever seen. _”_

“You mentioned a third monster?” You asked and leaned forward, needing to know more of this story. Tall, wearing all black and a red scarf, with the smell of gasoline? That was definitely Edge that Camo guy was talking about.

“Yeah, it was another skeleton.” Camo nodded, glad he had your interest. “This short, ornery looking one wearing all leather and a purple scarf came to talk to my uncle. Was the rudest bastard my uncle ever met, acted like he knew everything. Said to the cops that he and the other two monsters were from some kind of monster national guard and would clean up the mess, and then they paid them to keep everything quiet.”

“Then how did you find out?” You raised an eyebrow. That last monster sounded like Milord. Members of the Royal Guard had been at that farmhouse. Why was that, when they were supposed to be guarding the queen?

“I wasn’t supposed to.” Camo shrugged. “I heard my uncle telling my dad last night. Said that the short guy threatened him to not say anything, but my uncle wanted my dad to know so he could warn the family to stay away from the mountain. I think everyone should know. A monster killed and ate a family! Why the hell haven’t we been learning about  _ that _ in this stupid class? We should be learning how to kill these freaks off and protect ourselves, not about trade and law-”

“That’s not fair!” You stood up suddenly, your chair falling over. “You can’t harbor that kind of prejudice against all monsters for the actions of one. And I don’t think your uncle knows the whole story, a monster would never eat a person!”

“How would you know?” Ponytail raised her eyebrow at you. “None of us has ever met a monster before. And frankly, after hearing that story, why would any of us want to?”

“I  _ have _ met a monster before!” You glared at Ponytail and Camo. “They’re not man eaters, they’re harmless! Well, okay, they can take care of themselves, but they’re not bad at all!”

“You calling me a liar?” Camo stood up and got in your face.

“I’m only saying I don’t think you have both sides.” You stared up at him, not letting yourself be cowed. Compared to Edge, this guy wasn’t frightening at all. “I think there was something else that happened at that farmhouse. Your story doesn’t make any sense!”

“I should have known you’d take the monster’s side!” Camo shoved you, hard enough to send you onto the floor. “My uncle saw it first hand, that family was eaten! And you think monsters are some kind of great thing, don’t you? You argue with the professor every day about how we should open the borders and accept them-”

“Yes! Because we should!” You picked yourself up off the floor and glared at Camo. “Humans kill each other all the time, but you don’t seem like you’re all for killing them off! There are good and bad humans, just like-”

“You say that like  _ we’re  _ the bad guys.” Ponytail wrinkled her nose at you, like you were a bad smell that had suddenly appeared in the room. “If it’s them or us, miss sweater dress, I choose us.”

“I’m not saying that. I’m saying it doesn’t have to be a choice of them or us,” you pleaded to Ponytail. “They’re not bad, I swear, if we just give them a chance-”

“Get out of here, monster lover!” Camo shoved you again, his face screwed up with disgust and anger. “If you can hear about a monster fucking  _ eating _ a family and still defend them, it’s obvious who’s side you choose!”

“There’s no sides, this isn’t a war,” You growled and shoved Camo back. “We’re all just trying to live in this world, who  _ cares _ if you're a monster or human?”

“Well, you  _ should _ !” Ponytail stood up and joined in the shouting. “You’re disgusting, thinking that that thing was innocent after what it did to that family!”

Her insult twisted at your guts like a knife. “I didn’t say it was innocent, I said we don’t know both sides-”

Camo grabbed you by the front of your sweater dress and punched you across the face. You fell to the floor, the taste of blood in your mouth.

“My uncle and his men almost died because of that monster.” He growled, glaring at you as you wiped blood from your lips. “A family actually did! And you think these things are willing to be friendly to us? How fucking stupid are you? Get out!”

You looked up at Camo and Ponytail, at the hate in their eyes, and knew that there was no convincing them. You stood up, grabbed your backpack, and fled the room; skirting your professor on your way out.

The bathroom door slammed shut behind you. You parked yourself over the sink and turned on the cold tap to splash water against your face. Blood swirled down the drain and you looked into the mirror, pulling at your split lip. A bruise was already blooming across your chin and cheek.

You squeezed your fists tightly and screwed your eyes shut to keep yourself from crying. That story of there's wasn’t true. It couldn’t be. They had to be making it up.

But they knew what Edge and Milord looked like. They knew how Milord talked and what Edge’s magic smelled like. If they had gotten that right, what else hadn't been exaggerated? Had anything?

Even if one monster did attack a family, that was just one instance. There just had to be something that pushed it to do such a terrible thing. Not all monsters were vicious. If your classmates had ever met a friendly monster, like Mutt or Butch, they wouldn’t be saying that humans should be killing off monsters. It was fear that made them talk and act like that, that’s all. Monsters weren't dangerous.

Despite telling yourself this, you couldn’t completely fight off the small bit of doubt in your own heart.

~~~

On the bus ride home you scoured the internet from your phone for a story about the monster attack your classmate described. To your relief, there wasn’t a single mention of a farm or chicken monster or any other monster leaving Mt. Ebott. If an attack really did happen, it would be all over the web.

Still, how did that guy know what Edge and Milord looked like?

You hadn’t seen Edge in a while, he was obviously avoiding you, but you had seen Milord this morning. He looked nothing like his usual self: clean and orderly. He had been disheveled, with dark circles; nursing a migraine… Had that been from stress from work? From dealing with this story that you wanted so much to believe wasn’t true?

As you hiked up the road from the bus stop, something pulled at the sleeve of your leather jacket.

“Hey, Axe.” You smiled at the short skeleton as he tilted his skull at you. Your eyes caught a small trail of slipper tracks leading out from the tree line. “Thanks for not scaring me this time.”

Axe’s single, red eye light searched your face, then he reached out and wiped his thumb along your bottom lip. He looked at the blood on his thumb, his vacant grin falling into a frown as he stared at it.

“Oh…” your gaze followed his and you wiped your mouth on the sleeve of your jacket. “Could you… smell it? From the woods?”

“...yes.” Axe looked down the mountain, towards the bus stop. “...how… did you… get hurt?”

“Don’t worry about it,” you thought quickly, turning to continue your hike, “I just fell.”

Axe grabbed your backpack and pulled you to a stop. You turned to look back and your eyes widened in shock. There was an actual snarl on his face.

“...don’t… lie.” Axe’s slow voice growled. “....I can smell… a male human’s… mark on you. ...he hit you… didn’t he?”

Mark? Like a scent marker? You adjusted your backpack nervously and avoided Axe’s angry stare. “I mean… okay, yes. My classmate hit me. But we were arguing and I just pushed him too far with my own ideals.”

The light vanished from Axe’s eye socket. The hand that had your blood clenched tightly, filling with red plasma that smelled like iron. The hair on the back of your neck stood up and you had to fight a sudden instinct to bolt.

“No, Axe! I’m okay!” You grabbed his clenched fist and held it in your own. The magic that gathered there felt more like a solid than plasma, and it was becoming more substantial by the second, taking the shape of a handle. “Axe, I’m touched you’re angry for my sake, but please, I don’t want this to be a big deal.”

That plasma continued to gather and the smell of iron sharpened. It looked almost like a blade of some kind, but far too fat. Not knowing what else to do, you pulled Axe into you and hugged him tight.

“Axe, please…” you said softly, pressing his skull to your chest. If he wouldn’t listen to the concern in your voice, maybe he would listen to the concern in your soul. Seeing Axe angry wasn’t like the others. Seeing Red or Milord angry made you feel panic; Edge made you feel fear. But seeing Axe angry made your instincts tremble. To not see that vacant smile of his made you worry. 

Honestly, Axe seemed so good natured you didn’t think it was even  _ possible _ for him to get mad about anything. To see that snarl, to see his eye light go out and the magic manifest in his hand like that… it was like his weird self had wandered off into the woods and left someone else behind.

Slowly, the smell of magic faded and Axe’s arms wrapped around your shoulders. He lifted his head from your chest and let it rest on your shoulder. “...don’t… lie... Willow. ...let us… protect you. ...you’re… ours… after all.”

“I’m sorry.” You squeezed his rib cage tightly. “You’re right, that was a dumb thing to lie about. I won’t do that anymore, I promise.”

Axe nuzzled your neck gently. The jagged hole in his skull caught some of your hair and pulled it as Axe moved. “...why… did the human…?”

You sighed. This was not something you wanted to talk about, not until you had a chance to find more information, but you did just promise to not lie. ...but that didn’t mean you had to say everything, either. “This guy was trying to tell me that I should hate monsters.”

Axe’s skull quickly pulled away from your neck, his red eye light focused on your gaze. Some of your hair had been caught and the sudden movement caused you to wince.

“I told him he was wrong,” you said, to answer his unspoken question, and gently untangled your hair from his skull. “Then he hit me and called me stupid. But I don’t care if he thinks that, Axe. I care about you guys too much to listen to some dumb human.”

Axe’s vacant smile returned and stretched across his skull. He contemplated you with his red eye light while one of his hands drifted up from your shoulder. His hand brushed yours aside and took its place to bury itself in your hair. Before you could register what he was doing, he pulled you in close and pressed his teeth to your lips.

You froze in shock, not knowing what to do. His red tongue darted out from between his teeth to lick away the blood from your split lip. Heat sparked in your stomach as your face flushed pink.

“...if Butch… gets one…” Axe smirked and let you go. He stuffed his hands in the pockets of his frayed, blue hoodie to walk up the road, the snow crunching beneath his copper colored slippers. “...I do too.”

“You are  _ such _ a  _ clod! _ ” You scooped up a handful of snow and chucked a snowball at Axe. He ducked your projectile easily and laughed, a slow tumbling chuckle, and took off into the woods. You really wanted to go after him and throw more snow until you caught him in the skull, but your heavy backpack would not allow you to run anywhere.

As you stomped your embarrassment out onto the snow, your fingers drifted up to touch your lips. A tangle of emotion mingled within you; mainly confusion. That made two of the brothers that you had kissed now. It wasn’t that you disliked it, but you hadn’t kissed anyone else in seven years. It was nice to have those small moments of affection. It was like the ghost of a different time had just visited you; the time before that day.

Guilt welled up within you. What happened with Axe wasn’t like with Butch. You had been high on magic when you forced yourself on Butch, and you felt terrible for making him uncomfortable, but it wasn’t as if you disliked it. Rather, it had sparked desire in you. The same thing happened with Axe just now… Those small gestures, it felt like-

How was that even possible? You had argued with your classmate that humans and monsters weren’t so different, but were they similar enough for those kinds of feelings? Your mind replayed the feeling of bony hands on your shoulders and waist, on your stomach and legs and then started to imagine that the fabric that hid you was gone-

You pulled snow off the ground and shoved it in your face. A large chunk of ice slipped from your fingers and down the front of your sweater dress. Shivering, you walked up the front steps and inside the huge brick house you called home. Those touches were not for you, you lost that chance a long time ago.

_ The boy walked into the hospital room to see you. _

You leaned against the wall of the entryway. Your left hand grabbed at your right shoulder, squeezing the flesh that hid beneath the fabric, and your right hand twisted the stockings covering your legs. No, not now, you didn’t want to remember him or his face when he saw you, but you could already smell the echo of disinfectant, of gauze and flowers and vomit.

A retch of disgust echoed in your mind and you bit your split lip, hard. You squealed with pain, but the memory left you and you breathed a sigh of relief as blood trickled down your chin.

You left your backpack at the foot of the oak staircase and ventured into the empty kitchen. Maybe it was your imagination, but you could still smell faint traces of brown sugar in the air. You breathed deeply and smiled as that smell chased the last dregs of your painful memory away. That could never be a bad smell to you, not even after what happened with the magic. There were too many good memories attached to that smell for one small mishap to ruin it.

That might not be true for Pap and Butch. You had already apologized to Mutt, you couldn’t let the others wait. With the idea of baking on your mind, to distract you from the memories hovering just beyond your mind’s eye, you rifled through what was left in your cupboard and searched for an idea.

Truffles would have to be done another day. The ingredients for it had disappeared into the void behind Red’s jaw. Nor was there cake mix of any sort… but you had some oatmeal. It was the instant kind, but the smell of brown sugar had reminded you of oatmeal cookies. That might be a good apology treat.

“Oh god, I can’t believe I grabbed this brand,” you laughed to yourself and looked at the box. You had meant to grab the regular brown sugar, but you obviously had not been paying close attention to what you had bought because this was the brand with the brown sugar dinosaur eggs. The little cartoon t-rex grinned at you from the box and you laughed again. 

It would probably make the cookies a little too sweet, but you didn’t really have the ingredients for anything else. You made a mental reminder to have some sort of revenge on Red for eating all your chocolate.

You had just finished portioning out your first tray of cookies when the smell of iron drifted over. You waited until you had the tray in the oven and the timer set before you turned towards Axe. He was eyeing the mess you had made on the counter.

You sighed and grabbed the spoon, scooped up a dollop of oatmeal and sugar dough, and offered it to Axe. “But,” you took the spoon back before he could eagerly grab it, “you have to clean up the rest of the mess when I’m done baking.”

“...okay.” Axe grinned and snatched the spoon from you. His glowing, red tongue wrapped around it and you watched, fascinated by its dexterity. His red eye light caught your gaze and he smirked. “...does that… include you?”

“No!” You felt your face flush and stormed back over to your mixing bowl to busy yourself. That literal part of him was pretty damn annoying sometimes.

When Axe had finished with the spoon, he got up from the table to drop it in the sink. He leaned around you to look in the oven at the cookies. “...who… are they… for?”

“They’re for Pap and Butch.” You glanced out of the side of your eye at Axe, watching to make sure he didn’t reach into the oven or anything like that. “I feel bad for what happened last night. Do you know if they’re both home? It would be nice to give these to them while they’re warm.”

“...they’re… in… Pap’s room.” Axe straightened and reached for the bowl with the cookie dough. You smacked his bony hand away and he studied you with his eye light. “...Butch… told me… what happened.”

“I figured.”

“...I’m curious… what that… sound is like.” Axe leaned back against the counter, hands in the pockets of his blue hoodie. His smile widened dreamily. “...Butch says… it was…”

“I don’t know,” you cut Axe off, your cheeks pink, “and I’m not about to ask Pap to do that to me again.”

Axe shrugged. “...I’ll find out… soon enough. ...when you… go back into… heat.”

“That’s not how that works!” Your cheeks flush crimson and you pull Axe’s hood over his skull, past his eye sockets. “That magic didn’t force me into a heat. I don’t think humans even have heat like monsters! We ovulate, but that doesn’t make my soul go all nuts or-”

You paused, some kind of puzzle piece finally had fallen into place. That noise that Mutt had told you about, that Axe wanted to know more about. It wasn’t because you were in heat or ovulating. It was the noise your soul made when you were turned on.Your realization made your face flush red. That was something that could happen to a human at literally any time, as long as the right stimulus presented itself. Hell, you could probably do that right now just by  _ thinking _ the right thing.

“...what?” Axe pushed his hood back and tilted his head, not understanding why you had fallen silent.

“When did you turn into such a little pervert?!” You snapped and punched his arm. Axe laughed his slow, tumbling laugh.

“...if you’re… going to talk… to Butch…” Axe tapped at his teeth, “you should… fix that… first. he’ll… worry… too much. he… gets very… upset… around wounds... ”

Your hand touched your split lip. Grateful for the change in subject, you headed for the fridge and grabbed a small piece of the first thing you saw and returned to the counter to lean next to Axe. You watched him watch you eat.

“He didn’t seem like that when he was checking me. You know, back when I started my cycle?” You asked and licked your fingers clean. (Before Axe could.)

Axe’s vacant smile fell. He looked away from you towards the oven, and his hand came up to absentmindedly pick at the hole in his skull.

“...Axe?” You leaned forward, worried by his silence and his nervous picking.

“...he… worries too much. ...after he… saw me… get hurt.” Axe’s fingers picked more at the jagged opening in his skull. You reached out and gently took his hand away from it, to stop him from doing more damage. Axe’s red eye light looked at your hand and he squeezed it. “...I don’t… remember much… about… what happened. but… I know… I haven't… been able to… speak… like I… used to. and… Butch… hasn’t… been able… to stand… fighting… since.”

You squeezed his hand tightly, not knowing what to say. Now that you thought about it, Butch always seemed to disappear when anyone got angry, or when a fight was about to break out...

“...don’t worry… Willow. ...I still… think just fine.” Axe smiled at you and squeezed your hand back. “... it just... takes longer… for the words… to come. ...that’s… why I… like to… write them... sometimes.”

“You write?” Your eyebrows jumped up. Finding out that he liked animals was surprising enough, but now this?

Axe nodded. “...it helps… me sort out… my thoughts. like… when I… was thinking… about what… to call you.”

“You mean Willow?” You asked, and Axe nodded. 

“...I’ll… show you…” Axe took his hand back and disappeared in a puff of iron. You stared at the spot he once stood, wondering. Whatever had happened to Butch involved Axe, and that made him hate violence... Seeing the hole in Axe’s head every day must be a terrible reminder to Butch of what had happened, but why hadn’t Axe asked Pap to heal it?

What in the world happened to those two?

The timer for the cookies went off. Axe reappeared just as you were placing the second tray inside the oven and he eyed the first tray hopefully, a little scrap of paper clutched in his hand.

“You can have some after they cool.” You told Axe as you scraped the hot cookies onto a cooling rack. “I don’t want you to burn yourself.”

Axe stared at the steaming cookies. “...when?”

“Probably when the next batch is done baking.” You took off your oven mitts and leaned against the counter again. Axe’s eye light jumped over to you and he held out the paper. You took it gingerly, wondering if he really was alright with you reading his thoughts.

“Axe, before I read this,” You fiddled with the torn edges, “Can I ask you something?”

“...sure.”

“Why, um,” Your eyes darted up to the hole in his skull, then quickly away. You wouldn’t ask about how Axe got his injury. (It wouldn’t matter anyway, if he couldn’t remember.) “Why did you never ask Pap to… to help you with…?”

“...this?” Axe reached up and picked at the jagged hole in his skull. You nodded. Axe shrugged. “...he… can’t heal… scars. only… fresh wounds. ...but…. even… if he could… i wouldn’t… ask. the damage… is already… done. and scars… can be... useful…”

“How can scars be useful?” you asked bitterly, thinking of your own.

Axe’s grin stretched, looking almost mischievous. “...no one… messes with you. they know… you’re strong.”

You stared down at the paper in your hands. Maybe that was true for monsters, but in the human world, scars made you a target. The more you had, the worse their ridicule became... 

Deciding to drop the subject, you unfolded the paper and rotated it right side up. You glanced up at Axe for permission, and he nodded at you. On paper, Axe's handwriting was untidy and slanted, but still legible. You had to squint as your mind tried to piece together the words scattered across the page.

_ 'A soul that flexes and bends _

_ Yet immovable _

_ Songs that gently sway in the breeze _

_ Softly caress _

_ But whip against the wind when it howls _

_ Sheltered in the shade _

_ Near the heart, the singing soul _

_ Icy rain and scorching sun cannot reach' _

In the margins, written seemingly as an afterthought, were many other words. Some plants, some animals, but they had all been crossed out. One was left, crammed into the corner beneath the rejected ideas; the word  _ 'Willow' _ .

You felt your mouth open in surprise and reread the words, silently speaking each line. “Holy crap, Axe, I didn’t know you wrote poetry!”

“...poetry?” Axe tilted his skull to one side and scratched at his old wound. “...that’s… just how… I think.”

“But this is beautiful! You definitely have the soul of a poet.” You smiled at him and reread the poem again. “Seriously, I’ve… this is… about me?”

Axe nodded, a slight red blush appearing on his nasal ridge. He was probably hearing the joy fluttering in your soul. You smiled warmly and held the paper to your chest. These thoughts, this poem, it was about you. No one had ever done something like that for you before, not even that boy.

“Axe, can I keep this?” You asked and gestured at the poem.

His red eye light glanced at the paper, at the spot on your chest where you knew your soul sat, and he shrugged. “...it makes… you happy… so it’s… fine.”

You were just about to pull him into a grateful hug when the timer on the oven went off. Folding the poem and tucking it safely in your bra, you pulled on Pap’s pink oven mitts and pulled out the last tray of cookies.

“I’ll need the cooling rack,” you said to Axe as you set the hot pan on the oven burners, “So if you want a few before I-”

You turned and caught Axe as he dropped what looked to be his sixth cookie in his mouth. You quickly whipped off an oven mitt and started beating him away from the counter.

“Don’t eat them all, you clod!” You growled. He laughed at you and back peddled away from the counter, his arm up to protect himself from your weaponized oven mitt. 

“...but… you said… some...”

“Some! Not all!”

“....that wasn’t… all.”

You rubbed at one of your temples as you turned back towards the hot tray. “From now on, you have to ask nicely before you get each and every treat. I’m never going to assume you know what I mean anymore.”

As you moved the hot cookies to the cooling tray, you glanced over your shoulder. Axe was watching the movements of your hands. You’d have to stand guard while the rest cooled, and take the lot with you if you didn’t want them to disappear. You sighed deeply, feeling the bit of paper in your shirt rubbing against your skin, and handed him one more cookie.

“That’s only because you let me keep the poem.” You huffed, turning to watch him drop the cookie into the void of his jaw. “But the rest are for Butch and Pap, so no more!”

Axe smiled up at you, getting closer to look over your shoulder at the counter. “...can I have... another?”

“No, Axe, I just said no more cookies.” You shook your head and stood your ground, even as one of his hands fell to your waist to move you.

“...not… what I meant.” Axe smiled and closed the last bit of distance between you, using his body to pin you against the counter. Your face flushed as his hand snaked around your waist and his bony body pressed into yours. The other had found your hair again, tangling itself around his fingers. He was leaning closer and closer, his breath hot on your face. Your heart was beating faster and faster, trying to spark that heat...

“HEY!” 

Axe turned his face away from you and you spotted Mutt near the hall towards the basement. Mutt’s fists were clenched and his pointed teeth were twisted into a snarl.  
“What do you think you’re doing, you tactless numbskull?” Mutt’s raspy voice was laced with irritation; his eye lights glared daggers at Axe.

“...kissing Willow.” Axe grinned and leaned his whole body into yours. Your face burned.

“Like HELL you are!” Mutt growled and lunged for Axe. Axe instantly untangled himself from you and dodged his brother’s swiping hand, laughing that slow chuckle of his. His humor only seemed to irritate Mutt further, who grabbed a chair and swung it at him. Axe disappeared in a puff of iron, his laugh echoing in the kitchen.

“That idiot!” Mutt growled, setting the chair down to stare up at the ceiling, his red eye lights narrowed. “I told him to leave you alone, but does he listen? Of course not.”

Mutt stuffed his hands into the pockets of his black hoodie, his orange, socked foot kicking at the tiled floor. Finally, after a long moment, he turned to you. His pointed teeth were no longer scowling, and his shoulders were relaxed.

“You okay, Robin?”

You nodded, unable to think of anything to say. Mutt had been jealous before, from Butch giving you a nickname. Was this some calm before a storm? 

“I’m not mad.” Mutt sighed at the look on your face and came to lean against the counter, albeit a few feet from you. 

“You’re… not?” You blinked, confused.

Mutt glanced out of the window above the sink and admitted, “Alright, yeah, I’m a little mad, but not at you. You’re not responsible for that idiot.” Mutt buried his face in one hand, mumbling into the bone, “I was afraid he would do this, after Butch told him what happened. Seriously, he has no subtly whatsoever.”

“What do you mean?” You took a cookie from the cooling tray and offered it to Mutt. His fangs curled into a smile at you as he took it.

“I mean Axe heard about what happened with the magic.” Mutt dropped the cookie into the void of his jaw and contemplated the crumbs on his bony fingertips. His orange tongue snaked out from between his pointed teeth and licked them clean. “About your soul’s little siren song. I had already guessed that he’d try to get you to sing it for him but I didn’t think he’d go for it this fast...”

“Yeah, he told me he heard and was curious.” You nodded. He told you right after he had kissed you the first time, or at least mentioned that he had. That he would hear that song anyways, the next time you went into heat... “Hey, Mutt, how did you know what was going on up here?”

“My room is right below the kitchen,” Mutt jerked his thumb over his shoulder, “and my door was open. I know you like to be in here almost as much as Pap does, so I thought I’d keep a lookout just in case…” Mutt looked up at the ceiling and growled again.

“So Axe was…” You pulled the piece of paper out from your bra and looked at it sadly. “Was he just doing those things… to try and hear that sound?” 

Did he not mean anything by giving you this poem, except to sate his own curiosity?

“That one of his thought pages?” Mutt’s raspy voice asked and looked over your shoulder at it. “Huh. I’ve never known him to give those to anyone but Butch.”

“So it does mean something?” You smiled and looked up at Mutt for confirmation, holding the paper to your chest.

“He’s too literal to know how to lie.” Mutt stared at the paper with narrowed eye lights. “But he doesn’t have any subtlety, like I said. If Axe wants something, he goes for it. So you better watch out for when you do actually go into heat, Robin. Axe doesn’t have a lot of self control. Neither does Red or Edge, now that I think about it…”

“But, they wouldn’t actually,” you stared at Mutt in horror, “they wouldn’t actually force themselves on me… would they?”

“Stars, no.” Mutt waved the thought away. “But that song of yours won’t make it easy for them to stay away, either. For any of us.”

You folded the paper up and put it back into your bra. You pulled at your purple sleeves nervously, avoiding Mutt’s gaze again.

This was not a conversation you wanted to have, but it was one you needed answers on. Especially if one of the brothers was already being a bit too forward with you. You didn’t want those kinds of touches, they were things you couldn’t have. But at the same time, you did want them, and there was the problem.

“Axe, Butch and I had a conversation when I first started bleeding.” You began slowly, then your words picked up speed as your embarrassment found you. “I know all about monster heat, Mutt, and I think I understand it well enough to guess that the smell Axe was talking about, when your females have heat, is when they’re fertile. When they ovulate.”

“I… don’t see where you’re going with this?” Mutt raised his bony brow at you.

“I have that too!” You pulled at your hair and bit your lip. A small bit of terror was rising in you. “Humans ovulate too, Mutt, and then there’s that soul sound on top of it! Axe said the smell was enough of an attractant, then you said the sound was even more so! What happens if I have both at the same time…?!”

Mutt actually took a step back in horror. “Shit, Robin… I don’t…. I didn’t think about that.”

“What do I do?” You held yourself, nearly in tears. You already had an awareness of your body’s cravings, and they would only get worse until you could remember how to lock them away again. If something happened, if the brothers saw your scars and…

_ “Ew, what the hell is that?” _

_ “Disgusting!” _

_ “Oh my god, that’s like, the complexion from hell.” _

_ “Cover yourself up, freak!” _

“No!” You dropped to the floor, holding your head as the voices of strangers echoed through it. You couldn’t stand it if you heard those words again, in voices that you knew well. You had finally found a new place for yourself after such a long stretch of solitude, finally found something that you hoped so dearly could be love...

_ The boy walked into the hospital room to see you, a bouquet of daffodils in his hand, just like he promised he would. He watched you from the other side of the sterilizing, plastic wall as the doctors changed your yellow and red soaked bandages into fresh, white ones. You were hopeful at the sight of the last person alive who loved you, and smiled beneath the mask of gauze wrapped around your head. But when the boy saw what you were, when he saw a peak of the raw, burned flesh covering your entire body, he ran out into the hall. Your smile fell as you smelled the acid and bile despite the filter in the air vents, heard the retching and gagging. He refused to come back to see you that day and you never saw him again. _

No one could see your scarred body and love you. If this heat, this smell and this noise, caused them to see… to hate you and turn away in disgust… Your heart screamed as your thoughts jabbed at it, threatening to break it. 

“Robin,” Mutt crouched on the floor and touched your back, his raspy voice filled with concern. “Please, don’t make that noise. Don’t be scared. For the love of the angel, Robin, we would never do anything to hurt you like that. We understand when no means no…”

You sniffed and wiped your nose on the sleeve of your sweater dress. “I can’t… I just can’t stand the thought that you guys will see… and you’ll hate me…”

“See what?” Mutt ran his fingers through your hair until you calmed down, then helped you to sit. “Robin, what?”

You gestured to your legs and Mutt’s eye lights widened in understanding. “Your scars… I see.” Mutt shook his head. “Actually, I haven’t. Robin, how can you think we’ll hate you for them? None of us have any reason at all to hate you. Quite the opposite, in fact.”

You shook your head, your body trembling as you struggled to keep the memories away, the echoes of ridicule and scorn. 

Mutt sighed heavily and pulled you in for a hug. “I won’t ask. I promised, didn’t I?”

You chuckled weakly, your face in his black hoodie.

“I still want to. See them,” he added, at your confused look. “But only when you’re ready.”

You nodded and Mutt helped you to your feet.

“If you’re scared and… your heat happens,” Mutt brushed the hair from your eyes. “You should go find Milord or Sans. They’ll help you, if you have that double problem.”

“Why not you?” If you were going to see anyone, you wanted it to be Mutt. He always had answers. Not that Sans didn’t, but he made himself scarce unless he wanted to talk to you. Milord also seemed like he could help with any questions, but he wasn’t exactly nice about it.

“I… don’t have the best self control, either,” a flush of burnt orange appeared on Mutt’s nasal ridge and he looked away from you. “Maybe if it was just one or the other, I could handle it, but I know myself well enough that I don’t think I could handle both. I really don’t want to do anything to you because of something you can’t control and then have you hate me, Robin. I care too much about you for that to happen.”

A smile spread across your face. That was a big thing for Mutt to say, to admit that he knew himself so well that he thought you might not be safe with him during that time. And he  _ cared _ . Those words meant a lot. More than you could really say. But you had a feeling, as your heart fluttered in your chest and his red eye lights darted towards it, that he knew what you wanted to say anyways.

“Y-you should probably go find Butch and Pap.” Mutt flushed and looked out the window above the sink again. “That’s why you made those cookies, right? You wanted to talk to them?”

“Yeah.” You nodded. “Just one more thing before I do, though. Because I know how jealous you can get.”

“What’s-” Mutt’s words fell away as you took his skull in your hands and pulled his tall frame down to your level. His burnt orange blush crept across his cheekbones as you gently pressed your lips to his pointed teeth and you felt the heat on his face beneath your fingers.

He leaned forward to deepen the kiss, his orange tongue snaking out from his fangs to lick your lower lip. As you parted your lips for him and your tongues touched he pushed into you, closing any distance that remained. His hands flew up to tangle themselves in your hair.

The magic in your mouth tingled on your tongue like carbonation. You tasted cloves as his tongue turned in your mouth to taste you back. You wrapped your arms around the back of his skull and held him there, one of your fingers tracing the ridges in his neck’s vertebrae. He shivered at the touch.

You backpedaled as he forced your body up against the counter without breaking the kiss. He untangled one of his hands from your hair and lifted you up onto the marble to a height more comfortable for him. That hand began to wander; over your arms, your sides, your lower back...

He pressed his body to keep you from just falling off the ledge, his hard hips slowly grinding against your soft ones. One of his hands softly pulled at your hair. You wrapped your legs around him and roughly pulled his pelvis into you. A wetness that had nothing to do with your bygone cycle appeared between your legs and you pressed it against his hips through the fabric that covered you, feeling him inhale sharply though your kiss. 

The wandering hand of his drifted over the fabric on your back, his fingers trailing down your spine, over your hips and down your stocking covered thighs. Then slowly up under the fabric of your dress and towards the want between your legs...

You moaned softly into his kiss as that fire blazed in your belly. His fingers dug into your thigh, pulled at your hair, as he growled into you and then forcefully tore himself away.

“H-holy…” Mutt stepped back, his entire skull flushed. He breathed heavily as his hazy red eye lights darted between your face and your soul spot. His burnt orange tongue snaked out and licked your spit off of his gold tooth. “R-robin, I....”

A small whine escaped you at the sudden break in contact. Mutt shivered and groaned and took half a step towards you. It was clear from the way his eye lights darted from the counter to the hall, the way he was clenching and unclenching his hands, that he was fighting with himself on whether or not he should go back to you.

“Oh stars, we’re in trouble.” He mumbled to himself and vanished in a plume of clove.

Alone in the kitchen, you bit your lip, wishing that you hadn’t healed the split from the punch Camo had given you so you could give yourself pain. Now that the desire had started, it was spreading around your body and filling you with fire. Pain had stopped it before, if you could find some now...

One of your hands gripped your thigh, twisting your white stockings. A small voice told you to stop before you tore the material and reminded you of the scars that covered most of your skin.

This new heat was like the magic, but worse than the magic, because you had done this to yourself, and you could hear the other part of your brain telling you that those touches were something that you couldn’t have.

Snarling, you crawled across the counter, thrust your head into the sink, and turned on a blast of cold water. You yelped at the sudden deluge of ice but held yourself there as it chased the heat away.

When you felt like yourself again, you turned the water off and wrung your hair out as best you could.

You buried your face in your wet hands. Now you had forced yourself on Mutt, and felt like absolute garbage for it. All you had wanted to do was kiss him because he had been so understanding, so helpful to you. He told you he cared about you and you cared about him too, but your actions had pushed too far and he ran away. Just like Butch had run away when you kissed him, too.

That was why intimacy was not for you. You made others run. Your _ body _ , your  _ scars, _ made others run. And you couldn’t think of a single thing to do to apologize. You had gotten angry at the effects of magic on you, but now you were doing the same thing to the brothers with the sounds from your soul. Your desire was a call to them that they felt compelled to answer, and that wasn’t fair to them at all.

You got off the counter and pinched your arm, then your leg. You bit your tongue, your cheek, and finally found a sharp enough pain when you twisted the softest skin on your neck, just beneath the corner of your jaw. It sent a jolt through your nerves and made your eyes water. 

If you felt desire again, you would pinch there. It wasn’t fair of you to put any other brother through what you put Mutt through just now. If you couldn’t control your thoughts through will, you would do it with pain.

They meant too much to you for you to let your soul cause so much trouble for them.

You grabbed the plate of cookies from the counter and headed out into the entrance hall. You didn’t know what you would do when your ovulation, you heat, came around, but maybe it would be better if you weren’t here. You didn’t want to hurt anyone else with the things your body did.

For now, all you could do was apologize for what damage was already done.

“Pap?” You called out as you reached the second landing. “Butch? Are you guys up here?”

No one answered.

“I get it if you guys don’t want to talk to me,” you sadly said to the line of doors and stared at your plate of cookies, “but I wanted to give you guys something as a way of saying sorry for what I did. I’d leave it it Butch’s room, but I don’t want to just walk in without an invitation…”

The door near the middle, the one with caution tape all over it, opened up. Papyrus stuck his head out. His bony brow was lifted in that strange imitation of a raised eyebrow, and his white eye lights studied you curiously. “ _ YOU’RE  _ SORRY? FOR WHAT?”

“For getting angry.” You trotted over from the stairs and offered Pap the plate of cookies. He took it in his red mittens and stared at it. “What happened wasn’t your fault, Pap. You just tried to help me. I feel terrible that I… lost control of myself and… and threw a chair at you guys.”

“you… threw a chair?” a soft voice quivered from inside the room. You recognized Butch hiding against a bookshelf from an opening in Pap’s arm.

“Yeah, sorry.” You bashfully twisted the sleeves of your purple sweater dress. “That’s not how friends should treat each other.”

“YOU STILL THINK OF US AS FRIENDS?” Papyrus picked up a cookie and examined it in front of his face.

“Well, yeah. Why else would I be here with cookies?” You tilted your head at Pap. He contemplated you for a long moment, then stepped aside so that you could enter his room.

Pap’s room was… unexpected. He had a large bed with tin-colored sheets and a carved wooden frame that resembled a red muscle car from the 30's. A large, grey spiral rug took up most of the floor, and the bookcase that Butch was hiding next to was filled with old, frayed books. Many of them were missing spines and titles. As you entered the room fully and sat on the bed, you noticed that the wall with the door had a large pirate flag pinned to it; complete with skull and crossbones.

“SO YOU’RE… NOT STILL ANGRY?” Pap looked down at you, the cookie in his mitten.

“Not at all.” You shook your head and stared at the wooden car frame. “I forgive you completely. I was more afraid you would be mad at me.” Tilting your head to look at Butch, you added, “And I feel really bad about… you know. I didn’t want to force that on you.”

“FORCE WHAT?” Pap looked between you and Butch curiously, his white lights narrowing at the grey blush appearing on Butch’s nasal ridge. Pap popped the cookie in his mouth and his expression immediately went from suspicious to delighted. “HUMAN! THESE ARE THE BEST THINGS I’VE EVER TASTED! WHAT ARE THEY?”

“They’re just oatmeal cookies.” You chuckled and took a seat on the car bed, watching Pap shovel the cookies into his mouth. “I thought of them when I smelled your magic and- don’t eat all of them! They’re for Butch, too!”

Papyrus scowled and offered a single cookie to Butch, who took it nervously, then ate the rest of the plate himself. You glared at Pap.

“You could have shared more!” You eyed Butch’s single cookie with remorse.

“it’s… okay Lily.” Butch smiled shyly, sitting on the bed near you, “I’m… just glad… you’re better.”

“WELL, SEEING AS BUTCH LEFT,” Pap handed you the empty plate, “AND YOU THREW THE CHAIR AT ME, I THINK I DESERVED MORE OF THEM.”

“It was also your magic that did that to me.” You pointed out. Papyrus’s face fell and he sat on the bed next to you, face in his mittened hands. “Don’t be like that Pap, I told you I’m not mad, but you should have shared since it was kind of your fault.”

“I NEVER THOUGHT MY MAGIC COULD DO THAT TO A HUMAN.” Papyrus sighed and stared at the floor. “UNDYNE SAID I WAS GETTING BETTER CONTROL OF IT, BUT…” He stared at one of his mittens and sighed again.

“Pap… can’t control… when his magic… manifests.” Butch explained at your confused look. You glanced at Pap’s mittens, now understanding why he always wore them, even when cooking.

“DON’T TELL HER THAT!” Pap leapt up from the bed, horrified. “HOW CAN I UPHOLD HOW GREAT I AM IF SHE KNOWS THAT?!”

“You’re still great, Pap.” You smirked and patted his spot on tin colored sheets. “Who cares if you can’t control your magic that well? You’re learning, aren’t you?”

“APPARENTLY NOT.” Pap growled and started pacing the floor, staring at his red mittens. “I CAN’T EVEN HEAL YOU PROPERLY. I DIDN’T KNOW I ALSO HAD THE POWER TO-”

He paused in his pacing, his cheekbones flushed with orange. He shook his skull, muttering angrily to himself, and resumed pacing.

“I don’t think your magic forced a heat on me, Pap.” you said thoughtfully and leaned back on your elbows. “It just made me remember happy things. Things I wanted to remember, but I don’t always let myself, because I get sad after. That last little bit…”

You trailed off. Butch slowly ate his cookie and tilted his skull at you.

“It just made me remember, that’s all.” You said simply, deciding not to get into it, and searching your mind for a change in subject to avoid talking about it. “Say Pap, is that why you’re training with Undyne? To control your magic and become a healer for the Royal Guard?”

“THE GUARD DOES NOT HAVE HEALERS.” Pap said as he continued to pace.

“Then why do you want to join them?” You asked, remembering the story your classmates had told you. About the monster that supposedly attacked the farmhouse, and of Edge having to… “Why do you want to do something that might cause you to hurt your fellow monsters?”

“WELL….” Pap finally stopped pacing and fiddled with his mittens. He glanced at Butch, his expression nervous. “YOU THINK SHE WOULD UNDERSTAND?”

“yes…” Butch nodded, the last of his cookie disappearing into his mouth. “Lily would… more than… anyone else…”

Pap fidgeted with his mittens, seemingly unconvinced.

“It’s okay, Pap.” You smiled gently and put a hand on his bony arm. “You don’t have to tell me anything you don’t want to.”

He turned his white eye lights away from you. “I… WANTED FRIENDS.” An embarrassed orange blush blossomed across his nasal ridge. “EVERYONE ADMIRES THE MONSTERS IN THE GUARD. I KNOW I’M GREAT, BUT… I WANTED OTHERS TO KNOW THAT, TOO. MY MAGIC JUST WON’T COOPERATE. I TRY TO DO ALL THE THINGS UNDYNE SHOWS ME, BUT I CAN’T.”

You patted Pap’s back as he finally took a seat on the bed again. Butch leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees, to watch.

“UNDYNE DOESN’T EVEN KNOW WHAT TO DO WITH MY MAGIC.” Papyrus sighed heavily and fell onto his back, ruffling the sheets as his tall frame fell. “SHE SAYS IT’S RARE. WHICH IS GREAT, I AM AMAZING AFTER ALL, BUT IT’S TOO RARE. SO RARE THAT SHE DOESN’T KNOW HOW TO HELP ME USE IT, SINCE I’M THE ONLY ONE… AND AT THE RATE I’M GOING, MILORD WILL NEVER LET ME JOIN THE GUARD. IF I DON’T JOIN THE GUARD, I WON’T IMPRESS ANYONE. THEREFORE, I WON’T MAKE ANY FRIENDS.”

“Well, you have Butch and Undyne-”

“MY BROTHERS DON’T COUNT!” Papyrus snapped. “AND UNDYNE JUST TRAINS ME.”

You raised your eyebrow at him. “You have me. Aren’t we friends?”

Pap opened his mouth to retaliate, then shut it again.

“I have a theory.” You patted his armor, right where you guessed his soul would sit. “You’re not getting the results you want because you’re fighting yourself. You’re a  _ healer _ , Pap. Your magic wants to help and mend, not attack and break. If your magic is an extension of you, how can you expect it to cooperate when you’re not acting like yourself? You’re too kind, Pap. Let Edge and Milord be in the guard. Why don’t you become a doctor instead? I think you’d be much better suited to that.”

“EH, A DOCTOR?” Pap sat up and watched you curiously. Butch, other your other side, leaned closer. “YOU MEAN LIKE DR. ALPHYS? SHE STUDIES TECHNOLOGY. I DON’T WANT TO DO THAT.”

“The ones I’m talking about are healers.” You explained. “Human doctors, at least, use medicine and surgery and other methods to heal, since we don’t have magic. Don’t you have something like that, too?”

Pap and Butch shook their heads. Your eyes widened in surprise. That explained why there wasn’t a single pain relief pill anywhere in the house, but- “How can monsters not have medicine? What do you guys do when you’re sick or in pain?”

“we… don’t get sick.” Butch shook his head. “if… we get hurt… only magic… can heal us… along with... time.”

“OR WE DIE.” Pap said simply. You jumped up from the bed and grabbed his red mitten. Pap started at your touch.

“But that makes it all the more important for you to consider healing!” You gripped his hand tightly through the fabric, holding his white eye lights with your gaze. “Holy shit, Pap, do you know how many monsters you could help with your magic? If you’re the only one who can heal, you’d have so many monsters who would come to you for help! And if you ask me,” you put a hand on your hip as you said, “people are much more likely to be your friend after you help them, rather than after you hurt them.”

“YOU… THINK SO?” Pap nervously looked between you and Butch. Butch nodded eagerly.

“we… would not all… be here… without you.” Butch scratched at his red hoodie and his white lights drifted down to the bed. “you… healed up… everyone… after the fights… after… the break…”

Pap reached out and rubbed the top of Butch’s skull with a red mitten. Both of them had sad looks on their faces and you wondered what unspoken memory they were sharing together in that moment.

“I SHALL HAVE TO THINK ABOUT IT.” Pap stood and puffed out his chest. “AFTER ALL, ANYTHING I DECIDE TO DO WILL BE DONE WITH ALL OF MY EFFORT! HUMAN!”

You jumped at the sudden, barking address.

“I AM GOING TO START DINNER. SINCE ALL IS FORGIVEN BETWEEN US, I WISH FOR YOU TO ASSIST ME!” Pap smiled and opened his bedroom door. “EVER SINCE YOU MADE THAT MEAL WITH SO MANY COURSES, I HAVE BEEN WANTING TO TRY THAT, TOO!”

“I’d be happy to help, Pap.” You smiled. “Oh! Actually, I have the perfect thing to give you!”  
“A GIFT? FOR ME?” Pap picked you up and hugged you. “THAT MUST MEAN WE ARE BEST FRIENDS THEN, YES?”

“‘’Course!” You gasped against his tight grip, then gulped air when Pap dropped you. “I just… need to go and get it. Hey, Butch? Can you come with me? I have something for you, too.”

“HURRY UP THEN, HUMAN!” Pap hummed loudly as he descended the oak stairs; a high energy tune that you did not recognize.

You climbed the narrow staircase with Butch a few steps behind you. He pulled at the threads of his frayed, red hoodie and avoided your gaze.

Up in your disheveled bedroom, you quickly searched your mess for the cookbook you had bought. It didn’t matter if you gave it to Pap. If he wanted to try new things, he would definitely appreciate it more than you.

The book was at the bottom of a tower of your other study volumes. As you extracted it from the tower, the rest toppled to the floor. You shrugged. You’d have time to clean up later.

Butch was watching you when you turned around, and quickly looked away towards the messy floor when you turned to face him. A small grey flush dusted across his nasal ridge.

“I don’t actually have anything for you.” You sighed, clutching the cookbook to your chest. “I’m sorry about that. For everything, really. I… I just wanted to be able to say that to you without Pap around.”

“you… didn’t mean it….” Butch said sadly, twisting his hoodie in his hands.

“That’s the thing, I did.” You felt your cheeks turn pink and avoided Butch’s white eye lights as they finally turned towards your face. “The magic didn’t force me to do anything, Butch. I kissed you because I wanted to. What I’m sorry about is that I did it without seeing if that’s what you wanted, too.”

The flush on his skull deepened. He still would not look at you.

“There’s that and… Axe told me about the wound in his skull.”

The color on Butch’s face instantly vanished.

“I don’t know the story.” You said gently, noticing that Butch’s eye lights had contracted to pinpoints. “I don’t know anything except that you were there. I… I just wanted to tell you that I know that much. If it were me, I would hate it if someone I was close to found out something and didn’t let me know…”

Butch finally turned his gaze towards you, his eye lights narrowed and his expression unreadable.

“I didn’t ask Axe for any information. I promise, I didn’t pry.” You said quickly, hoping that Butch wasn’t getting upset or angry. You squeezed the cookbook tightly, nervous. “I know that’s your story to tell when you’re ready, no one else’s. Please don’t be mad at me.”

“...I’m… not.” Butch breathed a sigh of relief. “...thank you… for not… going behind… my back.”

You managed a nervous smile.

“I’d… like to… tell you.” Butch took your hand and led you away from the mess in your room. “...one day. but… not today.”

“That’s okay.” Your nervous smile widened into a more genuine grin. “For now, let’s give Pap his present and make dinner together.”

“...I’d… like that.”


	7. Ch 7 - So Far Away

Ch 7 - So Far Away

Saying that Pap was overjoyed to receive a cookbook as a present was a gross understatement. He was  _ ecstatic _ . So much so that he wanted to try cooking everything in the book, all one thousand recipes, that very night. It took quite a bit of arguing to get him to agree on three.

“I DON’T SEE WHY WE CAN’T DO SIX, AT THE VERY LEAST.” Pap huffed as he leaned against the stove and double checked the list of ingredients for that night’s main course: bolognese. “WE HAVE TWO HANDS EACH, SO WE CAN MAKE TWO DISHES EACH.”

“We need both hands to make something right.” You pulled pots out of the cupboards and rolled your eyes at Butch, who softly giggled. Butch was also excited, in his own shy way, to be allowed to cook with you and Pap.

“HUMAN!” Papyrus rushed over to you, cookbook in hand. “THE RECIPE SAYS WE NEED WHITE WINE! WE DON’T HAVE THAT!”

“Well, it is a human cookbook.” You leaned over Pap’s arm to check the list. “Says we need nutmeg, too. Since the sauce has to simmer for a few hours before you add those things, why don’t I run to the store? I need to do some shopping anyways. Most of my baking ingredients are gone. ...do you think a mixture of human and monster food will be fine for dinner for all of us?”

“YES, BUT WE’LL ALL NEED TO EAT MORE TO GET WHAT WE NEED.”

“we don’t have… seasoning…” Butch flipped the book’s pages under Pap’s arms and pointed at the list next to the Italian pasta salad he would be working on.

A pasta main dish and a pasta side salad. Leave it to Pap to choose all carbs for dinner. If you hadn’t held your ground on fried eggplant as the last side, Pap would have had you making ramen noodle soup instead.

When you returned to the house, sweating slightly despite the chill outside, many bags in hand, the hall was saturated with the warm aroma of sauce. Your stomach rumbled as you kicked off your boots and floated down the fall, guided by your nose.

“That smells  _ amazing _ .” You sighed as you returned to the kitchen and set the groceries on the table. Axe smiled at you from his chair by the table. He must have been drawn there earlier by the smell of food as well.

“IT IS NOT AMAZING YET, I STILL NEED THAT WINE!” Papyrus rushed over to the table to dig through the bags. Butch jumped at the sauce, stirring it gently so that it didn’t burn while Pap was away from it.

“Oh no,” you groaned as Pap found the wine and nutmeg. “I forgot to get a bottle opener for the cork…”

Axe held out his hand and Pap handed him the bottle. The smell of iron filled the air and the cork popped free from the glass, surrounded by Axe’s red magic. Pap snatched the wine back and rushed over to the sauce, barking orders at Butch as he added the new ingredients.

Before you could do so much as take off your leather jacket or put the groceries away, Pap reached across the kitchen and pulled you over to the marble counter.

“THESE NEED TO BE PEELED BEFORE WE FRY THEM.” Pap pushed a bowl of boiled eggs towards you and you looked at it, confused, as he slid another bowl filled with what looked like blue cattails alongside it. “AND THOSE NEED TO BE CUT UP.”

“Uh, what are these for?” You picked up one of the blue plants to inspect it.

“THE EGG-PLANT DISH YOU WANTED, WHAT ELSE?” Pap moved Butch next to you and set a bowl of cherry tomatoes in front of him to be cut up.

You snorted with laughter and dropped the blue plant back into the bowl. “Pap, that’s not…” Grinning, you returned to the bags on the table and pulled out a large, purple vegetable. “This is an eggplant. It’s not a combination of eggs and whatever those blue things are.”

“THIS IS AN EGG?” Pap stepped away from the stove and took the eggplant from you. He turned it over in his mittens, his eye lights narrowed as he studied it. Butch paused and peered at the eggplant from the counter. “WHAT KIND OF CREATURE HATCHES FROM IT?”

You snickered, trying to hold back your laughter at Pap’s confused look. “It’s a plant, Pap. Nothing hatches from it.”

“THEN WHY WOULD YOU CALL IT AN EGGPLANT?”

“I don’t know why they call it that.” You grinned and took the eggplant to the counter to slice. “But it’ll taste better than eggs and cattails, I can tell you that.”

“...cattail?” Butch raised his bony brow in confusion and you pointed at the blue plants in the bowl. Butch’s face broke out in a wide, lopsided smile and he softly laughed, setting his knife down so he could safely clutch at his sides in mirth. “those are… water sausages, Lily.”

“WHY WOULD YOU THINK THEY ARE CAT’S TAILS?” Pap strained a bowl of spiral noodles in the sink, then handed them off to Butch. “DO HUMANS ACTUALLY EAT THOSE?”

“No, not cat’s tails; cattails. They’re a kind of plant that grows in marshes.” You pushed the cut up eggplant away and pulled the bowl of eggs towards you. Since they had already been boiled, you might as well make deviled eggs to use them up. “They look exactly like those water sausages, but they’re not blue.”

“...humans… have strange names… for things.” Axe said from the table, a half eaten apple in one hand. The other hand dug through the bags, pulling out more things for him to examine with his one eye light.

“Axe! Stop eating my groceries!” You dropped the eggs and ran over to the table to wrestle the bags away from him. Axe laughed and crawled under the table to avoid you, still clutching one bag in his bony hands.

Papyrus strode over from the stove, stomping his red boots against the tile. He reached over the table with his long arms and grabbed Axe by the hood, easily lifting him off the floor and into the air. Pap’s white eye lights narrowed into a glare and he growled, “YOU KNOW BETTER. DROP HONEY’S FOOD, NOW.”

“H-honey?” Your face turned red as Axe dropped the bag into your hands.

“YES! HONEY!” Pap set Axe back onto the floor and returned to the stove, seemingly unaware of your embarrassment. Butch noticed. He was watching you from the counter with his skull tilted to the side. No doubt he was listening to the sound your soul was making. “MY BROTHERS ALL HAVE NICKNAMES FOR YOU, SO I DECIDED THAT I WOULD GIVE YOU ONE, TOO!”

“I mean, I’m flattered, Pap, but…” You hid your blushing face by busying yourself with putting your groceries away. Honey was such an… intimate nickname. It was something you would call your significant other. Pap didn’t really think of you like that, right? “So, um, why ‘honey?’”

“OBVIOUSLY BECAUSE YOU’RE VERY SWEET.” Pap pulled Butch over to the stove to watch the sauce while Pap took over prep at the counter. “AND WHEN YOUR SOUL IS HAPPY, IT SOUNDS LIKE BIRDS IN THE SPRING. SPRING HAS BEES, WHICH MAKE HONEY. SO IT ALL FITS.”

“Oh!” You chuckled to yourself, your blush fading. Of course it would be for a reason like that. All the other nicknames that had been given to you so far were based off of things that reminded the brothers of you. You caught Butch and Axe watching you out of the corner of your eye and added, “I like them, your nicknames. Robin, Lily, Willow, Honey… It means a lot to me that you would take the time to come up with them.”

With your groceries safely put away, you delved back into the chaos of cooking with Pap and Butch. Pap took complete charge and directed Butch and you through everything that needed to be done. Compared to your first panicked attempt at making dinner, Pap was a master of multitasking. 

“AXE, GO GET THE OTHERS. WE’RE ALMOST DONE.” Pap gently shuffled you and Butch around as he examined your dishes. “BUTCH, GET THE PLATES. HONEY, THE SILVERWARE.”

You ducked under Butch to reach the drawer as he pulled plates out from the cupboard above you. As you grabbed the cutlery, a thought occurred to you. You looked up at Butch and asked, “Hey, Butch, how come you and Axe use spoons instead of forks?”

A grey blush crept across Butch’s nasal ridge. “forks…. get stuck… in my teeth. Axe… isn’t allowed… around sharp objects.”

“Why not?”

Butch shook his head, indicating that now was not the time for an answer, and whisked the plates away to Pap. As each plate was filled, you and Butch would take turns running them to the places at the empty table.

The kitchen, already full of the smells of cooking, soon had the smells of the brothers’ magic competing with it. Damp wood, iron, frost…

“I STILL DON’T UNDERSTAND WHY YOU INSIST ON WALKING.” A sharp voice cut through the rumble of chatter beginning to fill the kitchen. Your guts clenched and you looked over your shoulder at the archway to see Red and Edge walk in. “WE HAVE MAGIC FOR A REASON. IT’S STUPID TO WALK ANYWHERE.”

“I said I don’t wanna, an’ yer not gonna make me.” Red growled and took his seat at the table. He slid down his chair into a slouch and folded his arms across his chest, scowling.

“HOW DO YOU EXPECT TO GET ANY STRONGER IF YOU DON’T PRACTICE LIKE I TELL YOU TO? YOU LAZY, UNGRATEFUL-” Edge’s gaze fell on you and his sharp voice fell away. His sharp teeth twisted into a scowl as he slowly took his seat next to Red.

“morning, Edge.” Sans smiled lazily from Red’s other side and played with his fork as he waited for his food, trying to get it to stand on its tongs. “sleep alright?”

“WHY IS IT HERE?” Edge’s red eye lights narrowed at you. “I WAS UNDER THE IMPRESSION THAT IT KNEW NOT TO COME TO THE TABLE.”

You swallowed hard and looked back at the plate on the marble counter, the one Pap was almost finished preparing. Edge must be thinking of the days you had isolated yourself in depression and interpreted it as some kind of understanding that you would not bother him. ‘Keep it away from me.’ Didn’t you hear him tell Sans that, once?

You remembered that you wanted a second chance at meeting Edge, a chance to make a good impression. Clearly, from the way he was addressing you and the look he was giving you, Edge did not wish the same. What could you say to him that might ease some of the hostility that radiated from that glare?

“H-hey, Axe,” you whispered nervously as you handed Axe his plate. Until you could think of something nice to say to Edge, you wouldn’t say anything at all. “Where’s Mutt? He’s going to miss dinner…”

“The mongrel has work to do.” Milord said icily from Axe’s other side and rolled his purple eye lights in exasperation. “It should have been done hours ago, despite his narcoleptic tendencies. He’s not allowed to leave his den until then.”

“I’ll… take him… some food.” Butch, who had been listening from behind you, set a plate in front of Milord and scurried away.

“If he’s sleeping, hit him!” Milord shouted after Butch. 

You watched Butch disappear behind the door to the basement, plate in hand, and wondered if Mutt was actually avoiding you or if he really had work, like Milord said.

“TAKE A SEAT, HONEY. I’LL BRING YOU YOUR PLATE.” Pap smiled and urged you into the seat on Milord’s other side. You took it nervously, your eyes darting towards Edge. Your fingers went to pull at the sleeves of your sweater dress, but found your leather jacket instead. You had never taken it off since coming back from shopping; cooking had distracted you. The soft leather between your fingers made you instantly feel more brave.

“UGH, YOU GAVE IT A NICKNAME?” Edge rolled his red eye lights and stabbed at the food on his plate. “WHAT IS IT, YOUR PET?”

“...Willow… is not… a pet.” Axe scowled across the table at Edge. Butch, who had just returned from the basement, came up and sat on Axe’s other side, nodding in agreement.

“OBVIOUSLY IT IS!” Edge jabbed at the air before Axe with his fork. Pap glared at Edge as he sat on Butch’s other side. “WE FEED IT, LET IT SLEEP IN THE HOUSE, AND YOU SEEM TO HAVE A PET NAME FOR IT AS WELL.”

You couldn’t see Milord’s face, but you saw his fist clench beneath the table. Anger was bubbling up in your stomach, too. You were  _ not _ a pet.

“SHOULD I GET A BOWL FOR IT?” Edge smirked at the effect he was having on his brothers, on you. Red seemed to be the only one staring at his plate, avoiding everyone’s gaze.

Sans frowned and narrowed his white eye lights at Edge. “knock it off, bud.”

“WHY? I’M ONLY THINKING OF WHAT IT NEEDS. PERHAPS A COLLAR?”

You opened your mouth to shout at Edge, but a voice in your mind stopped you. It was your mother’s voice, echoing, ‘ _ Don’t be the thing they want to hate, sweetheart.’ _

That’s right. Kill them with kindness.

“That... would be really sweet of you, Edge.” You said gently and smiled across the table, despite the anger boiling in your guts. The eye lights of the other brothers quickly turned to look at you. Forcing a soft, happy look on your face, you said, “I’m really touched to hear that you want to get me a gift. I didn’t know you liked me so much!”

Edge’s smirk fell slightly as he made eye contact with you. Beneath the table, your fingers tugged at your leather sleeves for strength.

“Do you think you could get a white one?” You asked, your voice dripping with sweetness, even as your soul roared for harsh words; for revenge. But you would not be the one to say anything mean. You would not give him a reason to hate you. “So it will match my outfits?”

Red’s gaze darted up to your neck, then fell back to his plate. A crimson blush was creeping across his cheekbones.

Edge opened his mouth like he wanted to say something, then shut it again. Instead, he turned his gaze towards Milord and snapped, “WHAT ARE YOU LOOKING AT, TINY?”

“Apparently a ludicrous, asinine, inept son of a-” Milord’s icy voice snapped back as he stood up in his chair, slamming his gloved hands down on the table. Edge quickly matched his stance.

“sit down.”

Both Milord and Edge froze and glanced towards the end of the table. Sans sat there, one elbow on the table, his bony hand supporting his skull. One of his eye lights was out, but the other was still there. Only it wasn’t white, like you knew it to be, but a deep, ocean blue.

“come on, sit down you two.” Sans’ deep voice sounded calm, almost bored, but it thrummed with some unknown force. Hearing it sent a shiver of fear down your spine. “aren’t we having a good time?”

You quickly looked down at your plate as Edge and Milord returned to their seats. When you glanced up again, Sans’ eye lights had returned to white. He was staring out of the window above the sink, daydreaming, with a lazy smile on his face. It was like the past few seconds never happened.

“So…” you said slowly, trying to think of something to say to break the quiet tension hovering in the kitchen. “What did you do today, Milord?”

“Work.” Milord tipped his plate back and let the rest of its contents fall into the void behind his jaw. “Don’t ask questions about it, I won’t tell you.”

“Are you done for the weekend, then?” You asked, turning in your chair as Milord got up to leave. “Do you think you can help me with my homework, later?”

“Not today.” Milord glared at Edge, who glared back. “Try asking tomorrow.”

Edge scoffed as Milord vanished in a puff of frost. “THE ONLY THING YOU’LL GET OUT OF HIM, PET, IS AN EXHAUSTING, PEDANTIC RANT.”

“He’s not exhausting.  _ And _ he understands calculus.” You glanced up at Edge, wondering if what he said was an invitation for conversation. Axe reached over to take Milord’s plate, and snagged one of your deviled eggs. You shot him a glare and he smirked at you while he popped your food in his mouth.

“THAT’S NOTHING IMPRESSIVE. HE ISN’T THE SMARTEST, OR STRONGEST, MONSTER. NOT BY A LONG SHOT.” Edge scowled. His pointed teeth then turned up in a self satisfied smirk as he went on, “I, ON THE OTHER HAND, AM IN A WHOLE OTHER LEAGUE.”

“There are different definitions of strength.” You said, earning an fiery glare from Edge. “I’m not saying you aren’t strong physically, but there are other things, too. Strength of mind, of will, of character…”

Red’s gaze lifted from his plate, his crimson eye lights narrowed at you. He frowned and the bone on his brow furrowed.

“NONE OF THOSE THINGS MATTER-” Edge dumped the rest of his plate unceremoniously into his void and his chair squeaked against the tile as he stood, “IF YOU CAN’T GET WHAT YOU WANT OUT OF THEM.”

“Well, what do you want?” You asked.

“FOR YOU TO SHUT UP!” Edge snapped sharply, then vanished, leaving the smell of gasoline behind.

As the smell of magic faded you caught Sans’ eye. You grinned at him. “I think that went well.”

“NO, IT DIDN’T.” Pap frowned and started to gather the finished plates from Axe. “EDGE’S INSULTS WENT TOO FAR, HONEY. YOU SHOULD HAVE FOUGHT BACK.”

You shook your head and gave Axe your plate for him to lick clean. “I’m not a fighter, Pap. Not like Edge is. But I did stand up for myself, in my own way. The way my mom taught me to.”

“BUT YOU DID FIGHT.” Pap pointed out as he set the dishes in the sink. “YOUR FIRST NIGHT HERE…”

You grinned devilishly. “I’ll only fight with my fists if I’m in actual danger, like my dad taught me to do. I’m just glad what he taught me worked against an angry skeleton.”

Sans laughed, a tumbling, melodic chuckle, and got up from the table. He grabbed a jar of peanut butter from the cupboards and a knife from the drawer, then vanished; leaving the vapor of damp wood behind.

“do you… really want… a collar?” Butch leaned back in his chair to look at you while Axe took his plate. “like... you said…?”

“I don’t know.” You stared thoughtfully at the table, trying to picture yourself in one. “I know they can be fashionable for certain looks. If Edge really did get me one, I suppose I would wear it.” You looked between Pap, Butch, Axe, and Red. “Why, do you think it would look good on me?”

Red forcefully shoved his chair away from the table, almost knocking himself backwards. He growled incomprehensibly under his breath, though you did catch certian words like ‘stupid’ and ‘fuckin’ and ‘woman’, as he stomped out of the kitchen. You just barely caught sight of the crimson covering his face.

“Did I say something wrong?” You asked the remaining brothers. They shrugged in unison.

“...I think… it would… get in the… way.” Axe scratched at his chin thoughtfully as you got up to fill the sink with soapy water and wash the dishes for Pap.

“Of what?” you asked, handing a clean, wet plate to Butch to dry, who then handed it to Pap to be put away.

Axe sat on the counter next to the sink, his vacant grin turning into a devilish smirk. “...biting.”

You dropped the plate you were holding back into the water, your cheeks pink. Unbidden, images of what happened on that very counter, just a few hours prior, where Axe now sat, flashed in your mind. Only now they included your fantasy of those sharp teeth trailing on your neck…

You reached up, just as you felt that heat rising, and twisted the soft spot on the corner of your jaw. You inhaled sharply and squeezed the sponge in your hand to keep from yelping.

“...Lily?” Butch tilted his skull at you, his white eye lights narrowed in concern. Pap and Axe were also watching you with looks of worry.

“I’m fine!” You laughed nervously, focusing back on the dishes. Hopefully, you had caught it soon enough and they didn’t hear. Hopefully. “I’m fine, really. Don’t mind me.”

“BUT, HONEY-”

“Just drop it!” You snapped, a bit more forcefully than you meant to, and instantly regretted your tone. “I… I’m sorry, guys. Just… please, don’t…”

Butch leaned around your back and smacked Axe with the towel. Axe stared sheepishly at the marble top.

“...sorry… Willow.”

~~~

After the dishes were done, you parted ways with the three brothers after reassuring them that you were, indeed, completely fine. You just had homework to do. As they disappeared in plumes of scent (Pap walked out), you contemplated if you should visit Mutt. You decided against it as you remembered his rejection of you after your… encounter, and of Milord’s warning about his work.

The essays you had were tedious, to say the least. Despite knowing your subjects, they had to be written well, your arguments and methods had to be sound.

By midnight, you couldn’t take any more. Your brain felt like it was smoking, it had been working so hard. You got up, fixed your sweatpants, pulled on your oversized sweater, and headed for the staircase. Just a glass of water, then you would go to bed.

You opened the door at the bottom of the narrow stairs and froze. Light from the attic filtered out from behind you into the hall and illuminated Sans, crouching, in front of one of the doors. A knife was in his bony hand.

His white eye lights turned to look at you and he smirked. From his other side, he pulled out a jar of peanut butter, stuck the knife in, and turned back to the door. You watched him slowly wipe the knife on the door next to Red’s, smearing peanut butter all over the underside of the handle.

“Sans… what are you doing?” You raised an eyebrow at him.

“...just having some fun.” Sans’ grin widened as he stuck the knife in the jar for more peanut butter.

“...who’s door is that?” you asked, walking out into the hall to stand near him.

“Edge’s.”

You started. Edge’s room was right next to Red’s? You never realized how close he was to your room. All this time… “Are you sure that’s a good idea?”

“the best.”

“What if he’s in there and wakes up?”

Sans looked at the door. For a split second, you thought you saw his left eye light flash yellow. But it couldn’t have, his magic was blue, wasn’t it? “it’s empty. he left for work already.”

“He’s going to be really angry when he comes home and touches that, you realize?”

“oh yeah.” Sans snorted with suppressed laughter and held the jar of peanut butter up. “he’ll go nuts.”

You giggled, despite yourself. “Why are you…?”

“revenge.” Sans shrugged and, deciding there must be enough peanut butter on the knob, closed the cap on the jar. He stuck the knife in his mouth and licked it clean with a glowing, blue tongue. At your confused look, Sans added, “for making me mad earlier.”

“So you’re pranking him?”

“better than fighting him, isn’t it?” Sans smiled again and turned towards the stairs.

“Wait!” You hissed, trying not to raise your voice too much to wake anyone. Sans turned on his pink slipper. “Can… can I do one, too? Prank someone?”

Sans’ lazy grin widened considerably. “who made you mad?”

“Red.” You looked at the door, finally seeing a way to get back at him. “He ate all my chocolate.” You caught the skeptical look on Sans’ skull and pressed. “I mean it!  _ All _ of it! Not just the actual candy, but my cake mix, too. I found him sleeping, covered in chocolate dust, on the couch earlier this week.”

Sans’ bony hand flew up to cover his mouth as he stifled a roar of laughter. He doubled over, holding his ribs.

“You’re not going to make fun of him, are you?” You asked nervously, slightly regretting telling Sans why you wanted revenge on Red.

“wouldn’t dream of it.” Sans’ white lights flickered in his way of a wink. “so, how do you want to prank him?”

You held your chin, straining your already fried brain for an idea. One that would be funny, not mean. You didn’t want Red to hate you after.... “What if… we got a soda, and used tissue to hide breath mints under the cap? That way, when he opens it, they fall in and make the soda explode in foam?”

“nah, we don’t have any of those things here.” Sans waved the idea away, his other bony hand holding his chin as well. 

“Ooo!” You looked at Red’s door, wondering if he was inside. “What if we wait until he’s gone, then staple a bunch of little cups together and put them on his bed? We’ll fill them up with water, and if he wants to move them, he’ll have to drink all the water first!”

“no, we did that one already.” Sans tapped the floor with his pink slippered foot, clearly thinking hard. Your mind did a double take. What did he mean, ‘we’?

You shrugged it off. He probably meant that he already did that prank with one of his other brothers. “How about… How about we do this one my dad taught me? We just need some plastic wrap, some tape, and some bait.”

Sans’ white lights scrutinized you, then he nodded. “haven’t heard this one before. why not?”

With an “I’ll be right back.” you raced down the stairs to the kitchen for the plastic wrap and chocolate. You returned to the landing to find Sans exactly where you had left him, waiting patiently for you.

“I don’t know where to find tape…” You began to tell him, then he pulled a roll of it out of his pocket. You took the tape and stared at it. “You… keep a roll of tape in your pocket?”

“helps with sticky situations.” Sans grinned.

“...what else do you have in there?”

Sans pulled out the jar of peanut butter, the butter knife, a whoopie cushion, a dog biscuit, and a miniature telescope. He shoved everything back into his pockets and smirked at you. “I come prepared.”

You giggled. What a weird combination of things to keep. You knew what the peanut butter and knife were for, and had personal experience with the cushion, but, “Why do you have dog treats and a telescope?”

“to not get chewed on and to look at things.” Sans shrugged and gestured at Red’s door, smirking. “now, are we gonna talk about my pockets all night or are we doing this?”

You nodded and pulled out the plastic wrap. “Hold this up…”

Sans stood in front of Red’s door, holding the plastic at his skull’s height; exactly where you showed him too. He and Red were just about the same height, so Sans was a good measurement. You shuffled around him, taping the plastic to the frame. Occasionally you had to adjust Sans’ grip to keep ripples from forming in the plastic. You realized too late that you had torn off too big of a sheet, but Sans handed you the butter knife and you cut it down to size. You stuffed the plastic in the pocket of your sweatpants to hide the evidence.

“Okay,” you whispered, trying to keep yourself from giggling, as you balanced a chocolate bar on the doorknob to your bathroom. “The bait is set. Now we just knock and hide.”

“one more thing.” Sans turned off the light to the attic, hid the tape and plastic wrap on the steps, and shut the door. He pulled you down the dark hall and into his room, explaining, “so he doesn’t think it’s you. watch from here and I’ll knock. when I do, move over for me. if he smells my magic, he’ll know something’s up.”

You crouched down inside the door frame, peeking out just enough to watch Sans sneak back down the hall to Red’s door. He knocked at the base of it, two quick, startling taps, then raced down the hall to hide above you in the doorway.

The light flicked on in Red’s room, you could see it from the crack under his door. You covered your mouth, trying to stifle a giggle, and Sans shushed you. Red’s door opened. You and Sans both held your breath. Nothing happened for a moment, for another… then Red’s untied sneaker came through the doorway.

Red walked right into the plastic and it tore away from the wall. He turned sharply, growling, trying to see what was touching him, and bumped into his doorframe. You and Sans howled with laughter.

“DAMMIT, SANS!” Red roared, finding the plastic and tearing it away from his skull. “it’s th’ middle of th’ FUCKIN’ NIGHT!”

Red stormed down the hallway, his crimson eye lights flashing and his sharp teeth twisted into a snarl. Sans pulled you back into his messy room and quickly shut the door.

“GIT OUT HERE!” Red shouted and banged on the door. “yeh thick skulled piece of fuckin-”

“shit.” Sans pulled you away from his door and you spotted what was leaking out from the crack beneath it - red plasma. Red was  _ furious _ . Your hands flew up to your nose and you whimpered with fright. Sans quickly grabbed the blanket off his otherwise bare mattress and wrapped you in it, then held you close. “alright, come on, kid. let’s get you out of here.”

The noise of Red’s wrath vanished as you felt a pressing darkness wrap the smell of damp wood around you. Then you appeared someplace open and cold. You tipped, your feet slipping on slick ice, and Sans caught you. You were on the roof.

“just sit down so you don’t fall…”

Sans held you steady as you planted yourself on the shingles and wrapped the blanket around you like a cocoon. You stared at the far off ground, feeling guilty, as Sans sat down besides you.

“I didn’t think he’d be so mad…” You sighed and buried your face in the blanket. You thought it would be funny. But you should have known better, you knew that Red had a temper. Why didn’t you think that through?

“ah, he’ll be fine.” Sans chuckled. It died away as he watched you. “hey, don’t feel bad, kid. I told you at the end of set up he wouldn’t suspect you. he thinks it’s all me. you’ve got nothing to worry about.”

“But if he’s mad at you, it’s my fault!” You looked at Sans, still feeling terrible. “I didn’t want that, either!”

“don’t worry about it.” Sans waved your words away and laid back on the roof. “I prank my brothers all the time. he’s pissed now, but he’ll be fine by morning. let’s just give him some time to cool off so you don’t have to worry about his magic, then i’ll bring you back in.”

You fiddled with the blanket in your hands. If he really did prank his brothers a lot, then Sans would know better than anyone if Red would hold a grudge. At least you knew now that you would never try to prank Red again. “Who told you about the… thing with the magic?”

“Axe did. the first day you were here. or maybe it was Mutt… or Pap?”

You turned to look at Sans, who was scratching the side of his skull and frowning as he thought.

“doesn’t matter who told me.” Sans patted the roof next to him, the part that was behind you. “point is, I know you don’t like the smell of smoke. lie down for a bit, kid. the stars look great tonight and we’ve got a bit of a wait.”

You laid back on the roof, shivering slightly despite the blanket, and looked up at the sky. Sans was right, the stars were beautiful. There wasn’t a cloud in the winter sky, the moon was a thin, cheshire cat grin; and you felt like you could see every star in the galaxy dotted across the inky heavens.

“Wow…” you smiled as you gazed. “There are never this many in the city.”

“I knew you’d like this.” Sans put his arms behind his head and rested his skull on them.

The two of you silently stared at the stars for a while. As your anxiety about the prank faded, you began to wonder. Sans seemed so fun loving, why had he never approached you before? He was so easy going, not really the antisocial type, but he hardly ever talked to you until now. At least, not unless he had something important to do, like explaining monster things to you or paying you. 

“I never imagined I would be pulling pranks and stargazing with my boss.” You smirked and glanced over at Sans. He visibly winced.

“ah, don’t think of me like that, kid. I don’t like that kind of responsibility. I get enough of that crap from my day job.”

“What do you do?”

“doesn’t matter.” Sans pulled his blue hood up and stared out into the distance. “none of it matters, really.”

“Do you really hate it that much?” You rolled onto your side and propped yourself up with your elbow.

“it’s necessary.” Sans shrugged, frowning at the stars.

“What do you mean?” You sat up and looked down at Sans. “It doesn’t sound like you like it very much.”

“cuz I don’t.” Sans’ white eye lights darted towards your face, then firmly looked away. “it hardly changes, no matter what I do. can we… not do this? I don’t like talking about it.”

“Sorry,” you laid back on the roof. “I didn’t mean to pry, Sans, I was just curious. I hardly know anything about you.”

“it’s fine.” Sans shrugged. “but it’s better if you don’t know what I do.”

The winter air filled with an awkward silence. You stared up at the sky, searching for something to say.

“You know, I used to stargaze with my dad when I was a kid.” You smiled, catching Sans’ white eye lights looking at you out of the corner of your eye. “I don’t remember many of them, but I know these two,” you traced them in the sky with your finger, “Ursa major and minor. The big and little bear.”

Sans grinned, shimmied close to you, and pointed up at the sky; tracing patterns for you with his bony finger. Clearly, he was glad you weren’t pressing the previous subject. “you know that one, right? that’s orion, the hunter. that over there is canis major, and there’s lupis…”

“How do you know all these?” You asked and glanced at Sans. His skull was very close to your face and you quickly turned back towards the night sky. “Could you see the stars from the Underground?”

Sans laughed. “I told you before, kid, there aren’t any stars down there.”

You furrowed your brow, trying to remember. “No, I don’t remember. Are you sure?”

“pretty sure I did.” Sans nodded and leaned back. “because after I did, you lent me that book on astronomy.”

You sat up and looked down at Sans. “I don’t own a book on astronomy.”

“really?” Sans raised a bony brow at you, then scratched at the side of his skull. “maybe that was Alphys…”

“The technology doctor?” You remembered that name, Pap had mentioned it to you. “Do you hang out with them on your days off?”

“nah, we used to work together.” Sans patted the roof again and you laid back down. “we studied quantum theories together for awhile, but I quit. too much work, you know?”

“You know quantum theories?” You stared at Sans in awe. Milord knowing calculus was one thing, but you never  _ ever _ would have guessed that Sans would understand something as complex as that. You rolled onto your belly and propped yourself on your elbows again. “Okay, you’ve got me curious, Sans.”

“about what?”

“About you! You invited me for an interview, saved me from Edge, then practically disappeared. Then, in one night, I find out you like stars and pranks and know freaking quantum mechanics! I get you don’t want to talk about work, and that’s fine, but who are you? What do you do on your days off of work? How come your brothers call you the strongest of them all and how in the world do you know so much about humans?”

“woah, slow down, kid.” Sans got up on his elbows and backed away from you a bit. “that’s a bit more than you need to know, don’t you think?”

“What do you mean? Why can’t I know it?” You leaned forward and Sans scooted a bit further away. “Sans, what’s wrong with me being curious about you? Do you prefer having just a professional relationship? But you just said you don’t want me to think of you as my boss, so why can’t we be friends?”

“no, it’s not that…” Sans sat up and held his skull, avoiding your gaze.

“If you're mad because of the prank, I’ll tell Red it was my idea-”

“it’s not that-”

“Then I don’t understand-”

“I can’t get close to you again, Thyme!” Sans yelled and buried his skull in his hands. The noise echoed away from the house, over the tops of the barren trees. You pulled away from him, startled by his outburst. “I… I can’t. I can’t keep doing it…”

You paused, watching Sans breathe heavily into his hands, clearly panicking. You backed away a bit more and kept quiet until he calmed down. 

He had called you Thyme. When did he choose that? When had you ever spent enough time together for him to pick a nickname for you?

“Sans…?” you asked quietly, once he had taken his hands from his face. “I don’t… what do you mean ‘again’?”

Sans scowled and turned from you to stare at the dark woods. His low voice was filled with hurt as he mumbled, “you wouldn’t understand. I can’t tell you.”

“Then…” you pulled the blanket closer to your chilled skin. “What about what you called me? Thyme? I thought… I thought you guys only called me names that you felt suited me.”

“it does suit you.” Sans chuckled bitterly. “that plant is the same color as your soul. and it’s a pun. because you keep coming back, time and thyme again. even if I try to get you to stay away.”

“I don’t get it.” You shook your head. “I know you tried to get me to leave, after what happened with Edge but… but Butch told me you fought for me to stay. Why?”

Sans looked at you, his white eye lights flickering against the night. “you don’t know… what this house is like without you in it. my brothers are so much happier with you here. but this place is bad for you, Thyme. it hurts you, but you keep coming back.”

“How can I come back when this is my first time living here?”

“it’s not!” Sans pulled at his face with his hand and laughed into it. That laugh held no humor. “you really want to know? fine. fine! I’ll tell you. you’ve lived here before, across multiple timelines. each time you come here, you live with us, and then something happens and the world resets. everyone forgets it ever happened. you, my brothers, everyone! but not me. I can’t forget. I remember everything that ever happens!”

“That’s… not possible, Sans,” you said gently, becoming worried at the slight mania entering his low voice. “There can’t be-”

“yes, there can! because there are!” Sans stood up on the roof, towering over you, and you backed away. “I can prove it to you! I know things about you, things that I’m sure you’ve never told me yet in this timeline. you’re afraid of fire, your mom was a social worker, you hate math and always needed your dad’s help to pass it, you went to college to try and become a pastry chef, but then switched majors to become a psychologist-”

You slowly backed away from Sans. Fear was growing inside you as a crazed look entered his eye lights and he listed off your favorite color, your favorite song and dessert. He told you the name of your college, the names of your professors, and all of the classes you were taking this semester.

It was insane that he could know all this. All these things didn’t prove that there were different timelines, it proved he was a stalker. The things he was listing were things you had told his brothers, things he could find out by following you to and from school.

Oh god. And you were alone on the roof with him.

“and I can’t do it again!” Sans threw up his hands and stared down at you. “i can’t get close to you and keep hoping that this time might be it, the one that never goes away, because it always does! it always resets!”

His white eye lights dilated as they drifted down to your chest and he heard the fear that dwelt there. He groaned and sat down onto the roof, holding his skull in his hands.

“you don’t believe me, do you?” he asked quietly. “you think I’m insane and that I’m stalking you, don’t you?”

“I...I never s-said that.” You pulled your knees to your chest and held yourself as you eyed Sans warily.

“wait,” Sans’ head snapped up, his grin half back on his face. “there’s one more thing, and I  _ know _ this will prove it.”

He turned towards you and you flinched. He noticed the movement and made no effort to come any closer.

“okay, you told me about this once, and there’s no way I could have found out without you telling me, because monsters were only released from the Underground just over a year ago, right?” Sans looked to you for confirmation and you nodded. “when you were three, you had a stray cat that lived outside your house. you begged your mom to let you keep it and she eventually gave in. it was white with orange stripes and you named it Tigger, but you got mad at it once your dad let you keep it inside because… Tiggers are supposed to bounce or… I still don’t get what you meant by that. 

but when you were six, you were playing outside and forgot to shut the door when you came in for lunch, and Tigger went back outside and got run over by a car. you buried him under the rose bushes in your mom’s garden and you cried for weeks because you blamed yourself for his death. your mom tried to get you a new cat, but you told her no, because Tigger was special and you didn’t want another cat just to have a replacement for the one you cared about. and you haven’t had a cat since.”

You sat on the roof, frozen, watching Sans watch you.

“please,” Sans’ low voice pleaded with you, “please, believe me, Thyme.”

There was no one in the world left alive that knew that story except for you, and you hadn’t told anyone. You had no friends to share it with after high school, after that day. You had barely talked about your past with the brothers. That meant… that what Sans was saying had to be true.

You looked at the shingles on the roof. That should be impossible. Alternate timelines shouldn’t exist. How could they?

Then again, you lived in a house with eight walking, talking skeletons who could do magic, on a mountain filled with other monsters. If you had asked yourself to believe  _ that _ a year ago, you would have said that was impossible, too.

“I… believe you,” you said slowly, not wanting Sans to jump at you while you were still trying to process what he wanted you to believe. “But… I have a lot of questions. Will you answer them for me?”

Sans nodded and wiped at the blue plasma pooling at the corners of his eye sockets. Even though you were still scared, even though you were still trying to accept what he told you, you worried for him. “Are you okay?”

“you didn’t believe me last time.” Sans’ voice shook. He wiped away a droplet of plasma as it ran down his cheekbone. “the only other time I tried to explain it to you, you tried to run away and fell off the roof and died.”

You stared at him in shock. “But… I’m not dead.”

“that’s how resets work.” Sans finished wiping away the last of the magic and looked up at you. “there’s only one reset button in the world, kid, and you have it. I don’t know how, but you do. when you die, you go back to the last… I guess we’ll call it a save point. you don’t relive your whole life. but my guess is that it’s something close to when you first started living here.”

“How many times have I lived here?” You asked him. In your head, you asked, ‘How many times have I died?’

“total time, just over two years.” Sans picked at the fluff on his pink slippers. “but none of the timelines last past the beginning of spring. I tried to make them longer, I promise you, I did. nothing I do matters. It just prolongs the inevitable. I’ve tried warning you, saving you, keeping you away, but no matter what you keep coming back. I’ve asked you why, and you always tell me it’s because you feel drawn to this place. invested in us. you obviously don’t remember the other timelines, but I… I think your soul remembers us. and I think my brothers’ souls remember you, too.”

“Why do you think that?”

“stars, kid, if you only knew!” Sans clapped a hand to his forehead and looked up at the sky. “the first time you came here, the very first timeline, it took a whole month before Butch would talk to you. it took you weeks to get Milord to tolerate you being in the same room as him, and just as long to get Pap to let you cook with him. Axe is so tame now compared to what he used to be. Red used to pick fights with you every chance he got. Mutt tries to help you now instead of just tormenting you like he first did. And Edge… he’s only tried to kill you once this timeline, which is a record for him.”

“Are there… do these timelines exist all at once?”

“no, it’s just one at a time.” Sans scooted a little closer to you, and you let him. “once a timeline resets, it stops existing. every time you die, a new one is made.”

“How do I keep coming back?” You looked at your hands, almost expecting them to be transparent, like you were some kind of multidimensional ghost.

“have you heard of quantum immortality theory?” Sans tilted his skull at you and came closer, almost close enough to touch you. You shook your head in response. “I won’t get into the technical stuff, but basically it means that all possibilities exist at once. If you die, that possibility ceases to be, until the only one left is the one where you live.”

“So, why not just let me die?” You asked Sans as you looked up at the stars, at the grinning moon. “If there’s eventually going to be a timeline where I survive, why not just let it happen?”

Sans’ white eye lights flickered over you, resting on your chest and then darting up to hold your gaze. “could you just stand there and watch someone you love die over and over?” He chuckled sadly at the startled look on your face and said, “there’s the one thing I guess I  _ can _ forget: you don’t know me like I know you. even if I try to sleep the changing timelines away, I can’t forget the ones I’ve lived through where you and I...”

He gave you a look of such longing that you couldn’t help but be slightly uncomfortable. He was right about one thing - you didn’t know him. Sure, he had helped you, saved you, and you had a moment of fun, but your feelings of caring did not stretch so far that you would say you loved him back.

“I… do care about you, Sans.” You stared at the blanket he had wrapped you in and thought about your words carefully, not wanting to hurt him. Not when it was very clear that he was hurting already. “I… would like us to be friends. But this… this is a lot to process. I need to think about everything you’ve told me.” You looked up at his crestfallen face and added, “But in the meantime… you can’t lock yourself away in your room. I get that this… this timeline stuff has got be super depressing, but what would happen if this is the one that doesn’t go away? How would you ever know if you don’t try to live in it?”

Sans stared down at the icy shingles. “I’m… not always sure what timeline I’m in. everything that happens is so similar, the changes happen so gradually… that’s how I can clearly differentiate now and the first, but the one before this? or the one just before that?”

You chewed at your lip in thought. Is that why he always looked like he was daydreaming? Was he actually trying to remember when (where?) he was? How could you help him remember?

“I got it!” You reached into your pocket and said to Sans, “Don’t look. I need just a moment.”

Sans lifted his brow at you but closed his sockets anyways. You pulled the piece of plastic out of your pocket and did your best to braid it together.

“Don’t look yet, but hold out your wrist.”

He stretched his arm out and you tied the plastic bracelet to him, then told him to open his eyes. Sans’ white eye lights flickered in his sockets as he brought the bracelet closer to inspect.

“When we were thinking of a prank,” you explained to his confused look, “you said that you hadn’t heard of the plastic one before. That makes this timeline unique, right? So, if you’re ever having trouble remembering where you are, then you can look at this and maybe it will help. I can make a better one if you want me to, if this works.”

Sans smiled at you and traced the braids on the bracelet with his other hand. “it’s perfect, kid.”

You smiled back. “You can call me Thyme, if you want. I like it. It makes me feel like I’m some kind of  _ thyme _ travelling superhero, or something.”

“Perfect  _ thyme _ ing!” Sans laughed in his low, melodic way.

“Speaking of the  _ thyme _ .” You shivered and clutched at the blanket. “Can we go back inside? I’m really cold.”

Sans held his hand out to you and you took it. A moment of darkness and damp wood later, you were on your bed inside the warm attic. You unwrapped yourself from the blanket and handed it back to Sans.

“Hey…” you called out to him as he walked away in the dark. “Are you… okay?”

Sans smiled his lazy smile. “what would you do if I said no?”

“I’d ask if you wanted to stay for a while longer.” You reached over the side of your bed and held up your phone. “We could watch a movie?”

“thanks, Thyme,” Sans shook his skull. “but you said you needed to think about all this, right? some other night.”

“I’m here if you need me!” you said quickly, before he could disappear down the stairs. “Seriously, if you need to talk, just come find me!”

There was a long pause before you heard the soft click of your door being shut.

~~~

The next morning you sat at the kitchen table, your head resting on the wood. The latte you had made was next to you, the steam rising from it in soft spirals, but it wasn’t as good as you hoped it would be. Not that you made it wrong, but because you felt like garbage.

“You are aware that your dress is on backwards?” Milord pointed out coolly as he looked for a pot to boil water.

“I like it that way,” you grumbled to the table.

“You like looking unkempt?” you heard Milord scoff at you. “I thought you had more self respect than that.”

“Please, Milord,” you sat up and rubbed at your temples. “Please, say something nice, or nothing at all. I’m trying to deal with the dream symbolism of my current existential crisis and process it all in a healthy way.”

Milord stood next to you, silently sipping his coffee as he stared at you with his purple eye lights. He slowly reached out, hesitated, then rested his gloved hand on the top of your head. He squeezed it a few times, gently, then turned on his heel and marched out of the kitchen. You stared after him until you could no longer hear the click of his boots on the hardwood floor, then smiled.

He would be terrible at massages.

~~~

You laid back on your bed staring at the ceiling. You pulled a handful of chips from the open back next to you, stuffed them in your mouth, and wiped the dust on your sweatpants. After your morning coffee, you had grabbed a bunch of junk food, returned to your room, and changed back into your comfy clothes. Today was not a day you felt like you had to look nice.

Your phone blared music next to your head. Your favorite songs, a collection of titles from across the music genres, filled the open space of the attic, distracting you from the dread that crept up whenever you remembered last night’s conversation.

There really were multiple timelines. You had lived in this house before and your soul remembered the brothers. That explained how you had gotten so attached so quickly, but… how could it not remember that you died? Did it hurt? Sans said none of the timelines lasted past spring… were you going to die again soon?

Did it matter that you were trying so hard? Trying to graduate, to live, to heal? If you were going to die and forget everything, why should you make an effort?

You buried your face in the crook of your arm and laughed bitterly. It did matter. Even if this timeline might cease, even if you had to start over, you couldn’t stop trying. Dad didn’t give his life for you just so that you could give up on it. Like you had told Sans, if you didn’t try to live in this moment, how would you know if it was real at all?

You sat up on your bed and slapped your cheeks. If you were going to give up on life, you would have given up on that day. This strangeness with the timelines couldn’t even compare to that pain, that overwhelming misery. At least this… reset, as Sans had called it, had the mercy of letting you forget death.

Remembering your first brush with it was more than enough.

Someone banged on the door to the attic and you nearly fell off the bed in fright. You had been so lost in your own thoughts, you had forgotten that anyone else existed.

“Hello?” You cracked open the door at the bottom of the narrow staircase.

“what the hell are yeh doin’ in there?” Red growled and jabbed his bony finger at you. 

“Um, listening to music?” You opened the door more and wiped the chip dust off your pants. The music from your phone echoed down the staircase. This song was an upbeat, techno mix. Red tilted his skull, listening to it, then scowled.

“turn that shit off! yer room is right above mine, an’ I hate listening to Mettaton!”

“What’s Mettaton?” You asked. “Is that a monster band?”

The scowl on Red’s face fell away in disbelief. “...yer jokin’.”

You shook your head. “Nope. I’ve never heard of them. Are they popular or something?”

Red stared at you, his crimson eye lights studying your face, then he laughed. “holy shit, woman,” he cackled as he held his skull in a bony hand, “yeh have no  _ idea _ how lucky yeh are, not knowin’ who that bucket of bolts is.”

“Well… would you want to show me?” You stepped aside and gestured up the stairs. “I can show you some human bands I like in exchange.”

Red glanced at you, at the stairs. He sneered at the noise drifting down the steps. The song up stairs then changed from the techno one you had been listening to into something very different. Red tilted his skull again, listening to the strumming guitar drifting down the staircase. His sneer fell away to be replaced with a look of suppressed curiosity.

“I have snacks I can share while we listen?” You offered, trying to tempt him. It would be really nice to have some company to distract you from your overwhelming thoughts. Even if that company was a grumpy, rude skeleton.

“whatever.” Red looked away from you and stuffed his hands in the pockets of his black hoodie, his crimson tongue messing with the point of his golden tooth. “jus’ none of that robot shit. I hate it.”

“Gotcha. No electronica, techno, or trap.” You grinned as you climbed up the staircase, Red following you at a distance. “Oh, and I’m sorry about the mess up here. I’ve been… really distracted lately.”

Red kicked at the discarded clothes scattered across your floor with his untied sneaker. You flopped onto your bed and grabbed your phone, pausing the music, so that you could adjust your playlist. What would Red like? He seemed curious about the guitar, so maybe…

“Is Mettaton a monster band?” You asked to fill the silence while you filled a new playlist with songs.

Red grunted in confirmation and walked around your room, inspecting everything with his crimson gaze. Your duffel bag, your discarded books, and the circular window on the far wall. “he’s th’ only band allowed in the Underground, an’ he’s fuckin’ awful. all his songs are annnoyin’ an’ he only ever sings about himself.”

“That’s… kind of terrible.” You looked up from your growing playlist to watch Red stare up at the vaulted ceiling. “He really doesn’t sing about anything else? Not love, or heartbreak, or rebelling or…?”

“nope.” Red sat on your bed, as far away from you as possible, and laid back. He tucked his arms behind his skull and added, “guy is a fuckin’ walking loose screw. one body, four personalities. yeh ask me, they should just crush th’ tin can an’ never build a new one.”

“Really?” You raised an eyebrow at Red. “How do you know he has four personalities?”

“cuz he’s been here, once or twice.” Red growled, narrowing his eye lights at some memory. “he an’ Mutt do some bullshit together fer work. I dunno how he stands the guy.”

“Mutt works with him?” That was some big news. Mutt knew someone famous in the Underground? “What do they do?”

“do I look like I care?” Red rolled his eye lights. “an’ are you just gonna sit here and chirp at me, or are yeh gonna show me somethin’?”

You rolled your eyes back and stuffed the back of chips into Red’s hands. “The playlist isn’t done yet. But if you really hate talking to me that much, I’ll start what I’ve got.”

The first song on your list began to play. It was a classic rock song, one from a band that your dad really liked to listen to. Red closed his sockets and let the music play, eating chips and listening quietly while you continued to find more songs.

Occasionally, as the songs cycled, you glanced at Red to gauge his reaction. His pointed scowl seemed to lessen with songs that had a lot of guitar, or drums. Slower songs brought the scowl back, but ones with more energy chased it away.

A stroke of inspiration hit you. It was just a guess, but if you were right, then you knew what kind of music Red liked. You pressed your finger against your bold choice and mentally crossed your fingers.

The first guitar note slid beneath and around the guttural, opening roar of the singer. Red’s sockets flew open, his crimson eye lights flashing, as the pounding drums kicked in and the guitar wailed.

_ ‘This shining city built of gold, a far cry from innocence _

_ There’s more than meets the eye round here look to the waters of the deep’ _

You watched as a smile slowly crept onto Red’s skull. A smirk on your own face, you turned the volume on your phone up.

_ ‘Symbolic woman sits on his throne, but hatred strips her and leaves her naked _

_ The Beast and the Harlot’ _

As the guitar danced with the chorus you noticed at Red’s foot twitched ever so slightly. You were dancing inside. Your guess was right.

“Like it?” You asked slyly and leaned on your elbows, near his skull, so that he was closer to the music while you went back to the playlist. If Red liked rock, then you had to change things up.

“meh.” Red shrugged and stared at the ceiling.

“Oh, you so do.” You gently poked him in the ribs and Red scowled at you. “Just admit that you like it! Just like you like chocolate!”

“do not.” A crimson flush appeared across his nasal ridge and he looked resolutely away.

“Yes, you do!” You set your phone aside on the bet and sat up. “You ate all of my chocolate that night you were drunk.  _ All _ of it, even my cake mix! You can’t tell me that you don’t like it!”

“th’ hell are you talkin’ about, woman?” Red narrowed his eye lights at you.

“That night earlier this week,” you scowled, “where you got totally shitfaced off of mustard and I found you passed out on the couch, covered in chocolate?”

“I don’ remember that.” Red sat up and matched your glare.

“Oh come on!” You threw up your hands. How could he not remember? ...then again, he had been really,  _ really _ drunk. This frustration you were feeling now must be how Sans felt when he remembered things that you couldn’t. “You raided the fridge for mustard, then yelled at me a bit. I carried you upstairs to your room, where you yelled at me some more while I sat with you. Then you passed out and trapped me to your bed for the night!”

Red’s cheekbones flushed crimson. “that… wasn’ a dream?”

“No, you bonehead, it wasn’t!”

The drums from the song thrummed like a machine gun as Red stared at the bed, unable to meet your eye.

_ ‘I don’t believe in fairy tales _

_ And no one wants to go to hell _

_ You made the wrong decision _

_ And it’s easy to see _

_ Now if you want to serve above or be a king below with us _

_ You’re welcome to the city where your future is set forever’ _

“I was really worried about you, Red.” You said finally as the song chanted the chorus. “You were… you scared me that night. Because… I’ve never seen anyone go that far with their drinking.”

Slowly, you reached out and touched the black sleeve of Red’s hoodie. He didn’t pull away, but he didn’t look at you, either.

_ ‘She’s a dwelling place for demons, she’s a cage for every unclean spirit, every filthy bird’ _

“Red,” you scooted across the bed so you were sitting next to him. “It’s okay to talk to me. I won’t tell anyone about anything you say, if that’s what you want.”

“...why’d yeh stay?” Red grumbled, staring a hole in your sheets. “I treat ya like shit. why’d yeh stay?”

“Because you asked me to.” You said gently. Red’s crimson eye lights drifted up to catch your gaze. “You told me you didn’t want to be alone, so I wasn’t going to leave you. Honestly, I would have stayed anyways just to make sure you were okay.”

Red’s eye lights drifted back to the bed, where his bony fingers were fiddling with the sheets. He kept opening his mouth, like he was trying to say something, but no words ever came out from between his pointed teeth.

You sighed, “Come here, dumbass,” and pulled Red into a hug. He stiffened at the contact, then slowly relaxed. One of his hands came up to grip your arm through your sweater.

“I get you’re not the type to talk,” you said as you eventually pulled away. “And that’s fine. You don’t have to. But if you want some company, you can come up here any time. Even if it’s just to sit here and listen to music with me.”

Red smirked and glanced at your phone. “yeah, I… do like this stuff.”

A broad smile split across your face. Red noticed and his nasal ridge flushed with crimson. “These guys are called ‘Avenged Sevenfold.’ They’re one of my favorite rock bands-”

“they’re literal rocks? singin’?” Red raised a bony brow at you and you laughed.

“No, it’s the style of music. Rock and roll. Here, I’ll show you another song I like by them…”

You grabbed your phone and scrolled through your playlist until you found what you were looking for. The current song died and was replaced with a resounding note from a horn. The guitar strummed up a beat similar to a waltz, and a gravelly voice began to sing.

_ ‘Qué bonitos ojos tienes _

_ Debajo de esas dos cejas _

_ Debajo de esas dos cejas _

_ Qué bonitos ojos tienes’ _

“I have no idea what they’re saying.” You admitted to Red as you swayed on the bed to the upbeat music. “I don’t speak Spanish. But the song is beautiful, and I feel like I kind of understand the overall meaning.”

Red’s crimson gaze flickered over you. He leaned back on his elbows, staring at the ceiling. “I understand them.”

“You do?” you whipped around to face Red, your eyebrows disappearing into your hair. “When did you learn to speak Spanish?”

“never did.” Red shrugged. “but speakin’ Font and speakin’ human are pretty similar.”

“Font?” your eyebrows furrowed as you tried to remember if you ever heard that before. “Is that… monster language?”

“Yup.” Red nodded. “n’ there are hundreds of dialects, so words don’ matter so much with Font. yeh say somethin’ with the intent in yer soul, and we understand each other fine.”

“Is that how you learned to speak English?” you asked, “by listening… to our souls?”

“nah, that would take too long.” Red shrugged and nodded his skull towards your phone. “If yeh want to be heard, yeh just say what yeh mean.”

“So, what are they saying, then? In the song?”

Red’s eye lights drifted towards your phone. They flickered as he listened to the rough, foriegn words, the swaying guitar, and the dancing horn.

_ ‘Besar tus labios quisiera _

_ Malagueña salerosa _

_ Y decirte nina hermosa _

_ Eres linda y hechicera _

_ Que eres linda y hechicera _

_ Como el candor de una rosa _

_ Y decirte niña hermosa’ _

As the guitar and horn twirled together in the outro, Red finally spoke. His voice was a soft growl, and his gaze was distant as he stared at the far wall. “..i’d like to kiss yer lips, pretty woman of Malaga, an’ call yeh beautiful girl. yer a pretty witch, that yeh are a pretty witch, like th’ innocence of a rose. n’ call yeh beautiful girl.”

Something of what he said must have finally reached him, because after he stopped translating Red instantly flushed crimson and scowled at you. “what th’ hell yeh making me do, woman?! makin’ me say that kind of shit?”

“I didn’t know what they were saying!” You held your hands up in surrender and flushed pink. “I told you when I started the song, I had no idea. I wasn’t trying to make you say-”

“fuck if yeh did!” Red snarled and snatched your phone off the bed. “yeh think yer so smart, eh? let’s see how smart yeh are without this!”

“Red, stop! Give that back!” You jumped off the bed and raced after Red as he ran down the stairs. “I need that!”

Red disappeared into his bedroom and you hammered on his door.

“Red! I’m serious! Give that back!”

“nope!”

You heard the lock to his door click and knew there was no way to force yourself inside. The song on your phone changed and drifted under the crack in Red’s door. You sighed, resigning yourself to a day without music, and climbed back up the stairs. There was always homework to distract yourself.

_ ‘Never feared for anything _

_ Never chained but never free _

_ A light that healed the broken heart _

_ With all that it could _

_ Lived a life so endlessly _

_ Saw beyond what others could see’ _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, to everyone that reads this... thank you all so much! Your kind words really help keep me motivated. <3  
> Speaking of kindness, someone made me some fanart! This is super flattering, I've never had fanart before. :D
> 
> Thank you, ToxicityT for your amazing efforts! Go check their art out!  
> https://toxicitys-world.tumblr.com/post/612953181831479296/okay-so-this-is-some-fan-art-for-a-story-on


	8. Ch 8 - The One With Spice

Ch 8 - The One With Spice

A red sweater dress flew over your shoulder and landed on your bed; several feet from the duffel bag laying open on top of the cream sheets. Other articles of clothing soon followed as you picked your way across the hardwood floor. With all your homework nearly done, you needed a computer to type up your essays and Milord's help with calculus, you decided it was time to stop neglecting your room.

As you stacked your books neatly on the floor, arranged by subject, you glanced around the clean room. It was easy to forget how empty it still was without your meager possessions scattered across it. It would be helpful to have a bookshelf, or a desk to sit and study at. A dresser for your clothes would also be nice. Keeping all your clothes in your duffel bag made you feel like you were going somewhere.

Having these things would fill out the empty space, but how would you ever get them back to the house if you bought them? You imagined trying to carry a bookshelf into the bus, or trying to fit a desk into a taxi, and sighed.

You looked out of the circular window, at the woods blanketed in twilight. The first stars were starting to appear in the navy sky and a few snowflakes drifted in front of the glass. 

Did having things really matter? So what if you kept your clothes in a bag, or your books on the floor. If you wanted to sit in a chair while you studied, instead of on your bed, you could sit at the kitchen table. 

You had a home now. If those things were that important to you, you would have stayed in your furnished dorm room.

Smiling at the thought of this house as your home, you grabbed the stray clothes off the bed and stuffed them into your duffel bag. Living here was worth trading a few creature comforts any day. You weren't going to complain. Having even a few things was something to be grateful for; you learned that after losing everything to the fire.

Still... it would be nice to make this room look like it was, well, yours. Maybe you could get a pot of flowers for the window?

You brushed the chip dust from your sweats, the empty wrappers in your pocket crinkling as you swatted the fabric clean, and shouldered your duffel bag. You could worry about furnishing your room another day. Right now, you had a bunch of dirty clothes and a small problem. You had no idea if this house had a laundry room.

"Let's see…" you mumbled to yourself as you descended the narrow staircase. Stepping into the second story hall, you pointed at the closed doors, naming them as you passed. "Red. Edge. Papyrus has the caution tape… Sans." You stared at two doors you didn't know and the one at the very other end of the hall, which belonged to Butch. Since Mutt was in the basement, the two mystery doors belonged to Axe and Milord.

You looked between the two doors, shrugged, and knocked at the one closest to Butch. Any of the brothers could help you, but you wanted to figure out the occupants behind the final set of unknown doors. 

The room you knocked at remained quiet, so you tapped the wooden door again. Still nothing. Shrugging, you tried the other door.

You heard the rustle of papers, something sliding across the wood floor, and the click of boots. Milord opened the door wide and his purple eye lights flicked up and down as he examined your grey sweatpants and oversized green sweater.

"And here I thought you couldn't get any messier." he frowned, his eye lights narrowing at the stain the chip dust had left behind.

"It’s laundry day." you adjusted the duffel bag on your shoulder and peeked past Milord's skull into his room. You glimpsed a handsome wooden desk, a rolling chair with leather upholstery, and what looked like a map tacked to the wall-

Milord stepped out into the hall and snapped his door shut. He pulled at his leather gloves and said, "Let me guess, you're unable to find the laundry room and decided to disturb me for directions?"

"Well… yeah," you admitted sheepishly, "and I wanted to see if you were done working.”

“My work is never truly done.” Milord marched down the hall and beckoned you to follow with a single finger over his shoulder. “There is always something to prepare for, or something that needs to be revisited to check for other’s negligence. I’m always compensating for the shortcomings of those that work under me.”

“You’re the Captain for the Guard, right?” you asked as you followed Milord down the oak steps. He whirled around on the last step, glaring at you with those purple eye lights.

“Can you see me accepting any other position with less authority?” Milord smirked at you as he led you through the kitchen and to the basement door. You paused, midway across the tiled floor, and stared at the brass knob to Mutt’s room. Milord noticed and raised a bony brow at you. “Something wrong?”

“No,” you shook your head, nervous about going down those stairs. Was the laundry room really down there? You had been in the basement before and hadn’t seen any machines. “I’m fine, Milord.”

You said that, but you didn’t really want to do laundry now. You hadn’t seen Mutt since you had kissed him; since he pushed you away. Milord had said at dinner last night that he was working but… you couldn’t help but feel that Mutt didn’t  _ want _ to see you. He had run away from you after you got worked up; after your soul started singing that song you had come to dread. 

Truthfully, you didn’t want to see Mutt, either. If he had gone further in that moment, he might have seen your scars. He would have been disgusted by you and the pain of his rejection would have been so much worse. It was better if you stayed away from each other, at least until you had locked that desire away again.

“Mongrel! I’m coming down!” Milord hammered on the door, opened it, and disappeared down the creaky steps. The light flickered on and the scent of frost drifted up the steps. “Why are you sitting in the dark? If you’re sleeping again I swear to the angel I’ll-”

“I’m getting it done, stop breathing down my neck!” Mutt growled from in front of his computer. He turned in his rolling chair, chewing an unlit, black cigarette in his sharp teeth, to glare at Milord. “You don’t need to keep coming down here and bitching at me, I said I would…”

Mutt’s raspy voice drifted away; his eye lights resting on you as you followed Milord down the creaking, wooden steps. You looked at the walls, searching for another door, and avoided his gaze.

“Don’t get distracted!” Milord stormed across the room and smacked Mutt on the back of the head for staring at you. “I’ve needed those systems for three days and you have yet to produce results! Just get. It. Done.”

“You think this is easy?” Mutt rubbed his skull and jabbed his thumb at the humming computer, glaring at Milord. “Let’s see  _ you _ reroute over ten thousand-”

“Shh!” Milord smacked Mutt again and gestured at you with a slight tilt of his skull. He hissed, “Keep your cretinous mouth shut if it doesn’t know when to omit!”

“I’m so underappreciated.” Mutt grumbled at Milord and rolled his red eye lights. He cast another glance at you, then swiveled around back to his computer.

“Come on, I don’t have all day.” Milord marched back to the stairs, grabbed your arm, and led you around and beneath the staircase. A door was there, hidden in the shadows of the steps. Milord pulled you inside and used his magic to flip the switch to a single, hanging bulb. It flickered ominously as you looked around.

The laundry room was tiny. It barely had enough space for you and Milord with two machines, separated by a white counter; a cabinet, and half a dozen hangers taking up a pole lining the far wall. Your toes curled up on the cold concrete and you wished you had worn a second pair of socks.

“Detergent is here.” Milord explained and pulled the soap from the cabinet. You nodded and began stuffing your clothes into the washer, wanting to get out of the basement as fast as possible. “As is the-  _ what the jevil are you doing?! _ ”

“Um, laundry?” you stuffed a fistfull of your stockings into the washer. Milord pushed you out of the way (you fell back into the laundry room door and it slammed shut) to dive into the machine and start pulling your clothes back out of it and onto the white counter.

“Are all humans this depraved, or just you?” Milord’s voice was colder than the winter night as he shook one of your sweater dresses in front of your face. “Colors and whites do  _ not _ get washed together. Blacks must be separate from the rest if they’re not going to fade. And here I thought you were intelligent!”

You blinked as Milord turned his back on you and started to irritably sort your laundry. Did he just… compliment you? Albeit in a strange way, but…

“Sorry, Milord.” You approached the counter at his side and started to sort your clothes with him, a small smile tugging at your lips. “I just… I don’t really have enough clothes to justify that many loads, you know? I’d just waste water.”

“If you feel guilty about the water, then get more clothes.” Milord said icily as he held up a sweater dress to examine a copper stain on the sleeve. “What is…?”

You recognized that one, it was the one you were wearing when you got punched by your classmate. You had wiped your split lip with that sleeve. “Oh, it’s… blood.” You confessed, looking resolutely at your other clothes to avoid Milord’s narrowed eye lights.

“Did you attempt to battle another mug?” Milord snickered and set the sweater dress aside. He opened the cabinet, pulled out a bottle of hydrogen peroxide and a brush, and scrubbed at the sleeve. 

You glanced at Milord out of the side of your eye. If you told him what happened, would he be as angry as Axe had been? More importantly, if you asked him about the story your classmate told you, would he be even angrier?

The stain Milord was fighting faded slightly, and he set the sweater dress aside to help you finish sorting.

There was no one else you could ask for the facts. You didn’t believe for a second that everything your classmate said was true. If Milord and Edge had been at that farm then they would know what really happened, and Milord was definitely the friendlier of the two options.

“I got into a debate with a human about monsters and he punched me.” You said slowly and watched Milord, gauging his reaction. He didn’t say anything, but his purple eye lights flickered curiously. That was a good sign. “He told me this ridiculous story and I told him it wasn’t true.”

“What did tell you?” Milord held up a pair of your white stockings, examining a small run in them.

“That a monster broke into a farm and ate a family.”

A loud ripping noise filled the small room as the stockings in Milord’s hands were torn in two. Before you could yell out in protest, or snatch the stockings away, Milord had grabbed you by the shoulders and slammed you up against the wall. The stockings fluttered to the floor.

“ _ What did you say? _ ” Milord’s skull was an inch from yours, his breath was like ice on your skin. You flinched as his thumbs dug into your collarbone. “OUT WITH IT!”

You quickly recounted the story that your classmate had told you, fearful at how quickly Milord’s temper flared. “But I… I don’t believe all of it. It’s just that... Milord… he… described you and Edge. He knew what you looked and sounded like and the smell of Edge’s magic-”

Milord let go of you and stared at the wall. His leather gloves creaked as he tightly clenched his fists. Lavender plasma was slowly gathering around his knuckles and filled the tiny room with the smell of frost.

“Milord, please.” You gently touched his shoulder and he glared at you, but you didn’t pull away. “I don’t believe that any monster would do that to humans. I told you what I know because I want the truth. I want to hear both sides. You were there, and I’ll believe what you say over my classmate any day.”

“This human, your classmate, where did they hear about this?”

“I don’t want to say, I don’t want them to get in trouble for thinking of their families.” 

“If you are willing to protect them even after uttering supposed falsehoods, then why would you believe what I have to say?” Milord’s tone was full of ice as he glared at the wall, now avoiding your gaze. “You’re a human. How could you not trust one of your own species?”

“Who I trust doesn’t depend on their species.” You took your hand back and picked your stockings up off the floor. “I trust you, Milord. I don’t care that you’re a monster. That shouldn’t even matter in the first place. You and your brothers have shown me a lot of kindness and have taken care of me, so I trust you.”

Milord’s purple eye lights darted towards your face, towards the torn stockings you held in your hands. He growled with frustration and snatched the damaged cloth from you. “I can’t tell you. It’s not only because my job requires it of me, but also because you lack adequate information to properly understand. Information that I obviously am also not allowed to speak.”

Feeling dejected, you silently returned to the table to finish sorting your clothes. You should have guessed that Milord wouldn’t talk about what happened. He had paid those cops to keep their mouths shut, hadn’t he? And if he was at home, working on his days off, he obviously took his job as Captain very seriously.

You heard Milord sigh heavily from behind your back. His fingers brushed the top of your head and you glanced at him over your shoulder.

“When you’ve finished here, meet me back upstairs in my room. Bring your textbooks.” Milord said quietly, avoiding your gaze. His boots clicked on the cement floor as he left you alone in the tiny laundry space.

You stuffed your first load of laundry into the washer and sat on the counter to listen to the machine chug gently. It would be a lie to say that you weren’t disappointed. You had hoped that Milord would tell you more, do something to sooth the unease that had nested in your belly ever since you heard that story. The fact that he was still willing to help you study after you had pried was something you should be grateful for.

All you had wanted to know, at the very least, was that it wasn’t true. Why couldn’t he at least have told you that? Milord didn’t confirm anything, but his refusal to even deny that part led you to think that it really was true.

So then why?  _ Why _ would a monster do that? Your mind drifted back to your original theories, pulling them out of the mental box they had been tucked in for another time, for after you had tried to hear the other side. 

Monsters could only sustain themselves on magic, and humans didn’t have that. It went to a farm… so could animals have magic? But that didn’t make sense. If animals had magic, then humans wouldn’t have been so shocked when monsters revealed its existence to them. They couldn’t covet their items so much in their determination to have such a miracle for themselves.

That led you to your other theory; that the monster had gone crazy. You knew what the sound of your soul did to the brothers when you felt fear. Butch would panic, Red would grit his sharp teeth and hold his skull in his hands, and Edge… attacked you. Was it so far fetched to think that, out of curiosity, a monster descended from the mountain to check out the humans? That, like you, it had been driven out of a desire to see the strange new creatures it now shared this world with?

But humans are frightful creatures. They fear things they don’t understand. If that monster came up on the farmhouse, in the middle of the night, and woke that family, of course they would be terrified. If your single soul could irritate the brothers with its screeching… what must it have been like, for a monster who had possibly never met a human before, to come across a whole cluster of screaming souls?

It wouldn’t be a stretch to see why it lashed out. It probably just wanted the noise to stop, it probably just wanted to get away. And if the humans attacked this intruder? It must have felt like it had to defend itself. Didn’t it breathe frost all over the cop cars, but not the cops themselves?

This theory was all well and good, but it only explained why the monster had killed those people. It didn’t explain why it  _ ate _ them. For that piece, you found yourself at a complete loss. Perhaps that was the one bit of the story that couldn’t be true. It just didn’t fit with anything else, it didn’t have any reasoning behind it.

The story was simple. A monster got curious, ran into more than it could handle, and lashed out against a group of soul sounds that threatened to overwhelm it.

Which, you thought guiltily, staring at your chest, made it all the more important that you suppress your own song. The brothers might be overwhelmed by that desire that was unearthed during your encounter with Pap’s magic. If fear could drive a monster to attack when it wouldn’t otherwise, what might desire do?

You thought about your moment on the counter, shuddering pleasantly, as you imagined those hands on your hips and the taste of clove on your tongue and-

You reached up and twisted the soft spot on your neck. A small yelp escaped you from your nails digging into the soft flesh. First step would be to stop thinking about those thoughts. You could use pain and condition your mind away from them, and that would eventually keep your soul from calling out.

It would keep you from wanting things you couldn’t have, because the alternative was far more painful to imagine. That you would force yourself on them, drawing them in by something they couldn’t resist, and then feeling that terrible rejection when they saw you…

The hand that twisted your neck drifted down to rest on your right shoulder. Your fingers crawled beneath the collar of your green sweater to touch the deformed, rippling skin that the fabric hid from the world. The scars that you were so ashamed of, that Mutt kept asking to see. But you could never show him. Not these marks that the fire had left behind, claiming you for its own. Flames that, though they stopped eating at your flesh, you still had to fight in your mind to keep them from consuming your life. The mere sight of them had driven everyone you had hope for away. No one tried to maintain a friendship with you after they saw them.

You opened the door of the laundry room into the rest of the basement. If you could just tell Mutt that you wanted to stay friends, and ask that you both forget what happened, then you might not lose him. You could make excuses to never show him your scars. You had gone on so long without anyone that the possibility of Mutt never speaking to you again broke your heart.

“Mutt…?” you asked quietly, stepping towards the computer and Mutt’s back.

“Kind of busy right now.” Mutt muttered to the glowing screen. His gaze was focused; his fingers were clicking at the keyboard so fast they were almost a blur.

You flicked off the light in the laundry room, your heart tight. You had just seen Milord chastise Mutt for not having his work done, you knew that he had things to do, but it still hurt that he didn’t want to turn around in his swivel chair to speak to you. Hadn’t he always made time for you?

There was a sudden lump in your throat and a burning in your eyes. You quickly climbed the creaky steps, avoiding Mutt’s gaze as he looked over his shoulder at you.

“Robin… Robin, wait!” he called after you as you dashed up the stairs. You did not turn back, you were too ashamed of yourself, of wanting to be selfish, and fled into the kitchen. 

You leaned against the closed door of the basement and slid against it, down to the tile, which felt much warmer compared to the cold of the concrete below. Why were you crying so much?

As you wiped your eyes on the sleeve of your sweater, your breath slowly becoming calm again, you thought you heard something creak behind the door. You tilted your head, listening for the noise, but didn't hear it again.

You got up from the floor, wiped your face again, and headed for the oak stairs. What you needed now was a distraction. You wouldn't think about those painful things if you were trying to strain your brain with calculus. If you didn't take Milord up on his offer today, you might not get another chance until next weekend.

After running upstairs and snagging your homework from your room, you returned to the second story to find that Milord had left his door cracked for you. You still knocked, despite this.

“What was the point then,” Milord said icily, as he opened the door for you, “in leaving the implication that you could just walk in?”

“Because I respect your privacy.” You said firmly, clutching your books to your chest as Milord waved you into the room, an amused smirk on his face.

You looked around eagerly as Milord shut the door behind you. His room seemed to be a combination of sleeping area and study, with a much bigger emphasis on the latter. There were metal filing cabinets on the wall next to the door, neatly aligned with each other. The opposite wall held the handsome desk you had glimpsed earlier, along with the map tacked to the wall. His bed was on the left, set in the middle of the wall to avoid any corners, and the right wall had a collage of frames hanging on it. You approached this wall, looking inside one of the tarnished, iron frames.

Behind the glass hung a small cut of cloth shaped like a triangle with its point hanging down towards the ground. It was black with red stripes and a small, yellow heart hung from the end of it. You turned your gaze towards the other frames and saw that they, too, held little cuts of red and black cloth, though not all of the hearts were yellow. Some were dark blue, or orange, but the most common color was purple.

“These are medals,” you whispered to yourself, looking in awe at the dozens of frames and their awards displayed proudly on the wall. “You’re really something else, Milord. My dad had medals too, but never this many.”

“Your father?” Milord asked curiously, taking a place at your side as you gently touched the side of a frame containing an orange heart.

“Yeah.” Something about that color behind the glass made you nostalgic and warmed your heart. “He was a captain too, you know. He led our district and had a bunch of men beneath him. I understand how you’re always working. Even when my dad was supposed to have off, he always had to run in if the station got a call in the night or if his boys had a problem they couldn’t deal with.”

“I empathize with your father.” Milord sighed, his purple eye lights looking over the wall of frames. “The responsibilities of a Captain are not for the faint of heart.”

“No, they’re not.” You clutched your books to your chest and avoided the side look Milord was giving you. “Milord… I’m sorry for prying. Dad had a bunch of stuff with his job that he didn’t want to tell me, either. I just… I just wanted to hear the facts. From you. So that I could reason it out for myself before I decided how I felt about it.”

“What is there to reason out?” Milord raised a bony brow at you.

“Everything! How can I judge someone for their actions if I don’t know the whole story? And that story has holes that make no sense!” You bit your lip, mentally wrestling with your curiosity and determination for the truth, then launched into an explanation of your theories about why the monster attacked. Milord simply watched you as you ranted, his purple eye lights gradually widening as you explained your logic.

“So, even though you have rationalized the situation,” Milord said slowly, not taking his eye lights off of you, “you still do not place blame on either party?”

“Why should there be blame? No one was at fault!” You brushed your hair out of your eyes and looked at the medals, to avoid Milord’s burning stare. “I just don’t understand that last piece, why that monster would eat those people. That’s the only part that doesn’t make any sense.”

Milord hummed thoughtfully and his boot started tapping against the wood floor. After a long moment of contemplation, punctuated by the staccato of his leather soles against the floor, Milord reached out and grabbed your arm, pulling you towards his side.

“See these?” He gestured to the medals. You nodded, surprised at the sudden contact and the gentle force he now used to guide you along the wall. “I didn’t always have this many. Most of them I received in the last year, particularly the dark blue and purple ones.”

Milord steered you away from the wall of medals and towards the handsome desk, pointing at the map that was tacked to the wall above it. “Do you know what this is?”

“It’s a map.” You said dumbly, trying to understand what had suddenly come over Milord.

“Yes, but what  _ kind _ of map?”

You turned back towards the wall to take a closer look. It didn’t look like any map you had ever used. It was made up of hundreds of giant circles that had been squashed, stretched, and malformed and yet still somehow sat neatly within each other. There were two colors of ink, black and blue, and it looked like someone had tried to draw two things on top of the other with little disregard for what had been placed originally.

In the corner, where much of the blue ink had faded and left only black across the parchment, you saw a symbol you recognized. A small E had been scribbled there, an E much like the one you came across in your calculus work.

“It’s a topographic map,” you said quietly, recognizing now that the mark of Epsilon had been placed on a gentle slope far from the chaotic, looping center of the map and in the middle of the national forest. You could imagine the road from the city, the one you walked every time you went to and from the bus stop, leading back to the E. “That black ink is the surface of Mt. Ebott and that blue… is the Underground?”

When you looked at Milord for confirmation, you saw that a broad smile crossed his skull. His eye light flickered towards his desk and you looked down, at the papers spread neatly across it. Your eyes glanced across the columns, the left sides of which had huge sums of numbers paired with equally large sets on the right, only negative and written in red. Milord snatched them away before you could read anything else.

“Hey!” You said indignantly, turning to watch Milord take the papers to the filing cabinets on the other side of the room. “Why would you show those to me if you just take them away before I can get a good look?”

“I haven’t shown you anything.” Milord flicked a hand at you, his fingers surrounded in lavender magic, and the swivel chair rushed forward to catch you in its seat. “You came in here to study, sat at my desk, and I simply forgot to clear it beforehand.”

“I don’t understand,” you held your calculus book tightly and watched Milord return to you in a few short, clipped strides. “What are you trying to tell me?”

“I’m not trying to tell you anything.” Milord’s smirk widened and he leaned forward, his skull inches from your face. “You know that I can’t, I have already told you this. If you want stories, go ask Axe or Butch. I doubt you’ll get many from Red. Edge, Sans, and the mongrel are also under similar constraints as I, so I can guarantee they’ll say nothing. Now,” Milord spun the chair around so that you were facing the desk, “let’s further hone your already acute powers of rationality, show we?”

You stared at Milord as he leaned over your shoulder, took the calculus book from your hands, and flipped through the pages. The gears in your head were whirring on overtime, it was a miracle that Milord couldn’t hear them. Finally, as Milord found your first homework problem and launched into an explanation of the equations, something clicked into place. Milord  _ was _ trying to tell you something! He couldn’t say anything outright, not if he wanted to keep his job as Captain, so he was trying to give you pieces to put together. And, as if to emphasize this point, he had given you his first, genuine compliment.

You smiled up at him, your cheeks warm, touched that he would try to help you in his own awkward way. His strange kindness, his willingness to help you despite having to do it in a roundabout way, meant more to you in this moment than Milord would ever know. Milord’s explanation of math fell away as he noticed your gaze and a lavender blush crept across his nasal ridge.

“Stop staring and pay attention!” He snapped and his hand gripped the back of the chair tightly, though his voice lacked it’s usually icy undertone. Your smile widened and his blush followed.

“You’re being awfully sweet today.” You said, having to lean only slightly to place a kiss on his cheekbone. “Thank you.”

“I have done nothing to suggest that behavior!” He shouted and jumped back, a gloved hand flying up to cover the place you had kissed him. The lavender color on his skull spread further. 

“Sure you haven’t.” You rolled your eyes at him, still grinning. “Now get back over here and help my rationality figure out these problems. Didn’t you once say you didn’t like to waste your time?”

~~~

Bolstered and encouraged by your time with Milord, (even though he refused to come within arm’s length of you after you kissed his cheekbone, which made studying a little difficult,) you decided to tackle your current problem with Mutt. If you could just clear the weird air with him, everything would go back to normal.

The problem was, you didn’t know how to do that. Your instinct was to bake something and bring it to him but then… what in the world would you say?

So while you dropped your completed homework in your room, you wondered which of the brothers you could go to for advice. 

Milord, Red, and Edge were immediately off the table. Milord had already helped you enough today, you didn’t want to push him too far. Red might listen to you, at the very least, but you could already imagine him telling you to just tell Mutt to fuck off and move on. Not what you were going for in the least. Edge was still very much not a friendly entity, but you had hopes now that you could be in the same room without him emanating blood lust at you.

Which left Butch, Axe, Papyrus, and Sans. Butch was your first choice, he made you feel like you could talk about almost anything. However, since you had already kissed Butch and Axe before, and you really didn’t want to have anything weird happen with them either…

Pap might understand. He was a little loud, but he was very caring…. But then there was Sans. Sans, who knew about alternate timelines. If this kind of situation had happened before, he could definitely give you great advice.

You walked down the hall of doors and knocked at the one you knew belonged to Sans. 

“who’s there?” a low voice responded.

“It’s Thyme.”

“it’s Thyme who?”

You smirked. Seriously? “It’s Thyme to get up, lazybones.”

The door clicked open and swung inwards. You shimmied into the dark room and flicked the light switch, but nothing happened. From the light filtering in from the hall, you could see that Sans had removed the bulbs from his light fixture.

“Have you been up at all yet?” You asked, noticing Sans face down on his bare mattress. He had the same blanket from your time on the roof under his skull, acting like a pillow. His blue hoodie lay discarded on the floor and he wore just a white t-shirt with his black shorts and pink slippers. You crossed the room to him, moving garbage and socks out of your way with your foot, and sat at the end of his bed. “Come on, Sans, we talked about this. You can’t sleep all day.”

“when did we talk about that?” He asked, rolling over onto his side. You gently took his bony wrist and showed him the plastic bracelet tied to it. His hazy white eye lights narrowed at it, studying it, and he chuckled. “oh, yeah. that just happened, didn’t it?”

“It did. In this timeline.” You smiled softly, wondering how he could do this to himself. It was probably a good thing you came to him; who knows when he would’ve found the motivation to get out of bed? Screw your own problems, those could wait. “Want to come help me bake, Sans?”

“for dinner?” Sans rubbed at his sockets sleepily and rolled onto his back. “nah, I’m okay. you and Pap can cook. let me know when it’s ready.”

“You’ve got to get out of bed, Sans.”

“and I will. when food is done.” he pulled the blanket over his skull and let his arms flop out to the sides.

You rolled your eyes at him. He wanted to do this the hard way? Hard way it is, then. “Alright, I tried to ask nicely.” You got up off the mattress, grabbed Sans by his ankles, and yanked him halfway off the bed.

Sans yelped in surprise, his hands scrambling to find purchase on the bare mattress. You gave another hearty tug and he fell onto his butt on the garbage covered floor.

“There!” you panted, winded by your efforts, as Sans pulled a crushed can out from beneath him. How could skeletons be so heavy? “Now you’re out of bed! So come help me.”

“help me up, first.” Sans smirked and held his hand out to you. You took it, prepared to lift him off the floor, but he yanked you forward and on top of him. You felt your face burn red with embarrassment from finding yourself laying on top of him, his face inches from your own. Sans grinned mischievously and his other hand, the one that wasn’t still holding yours, snaked around your waist. “...you call this helping, Thyme?”

“Sans!” you squealed, trying to pull away as he nuzzled your neck, “Let me up, dammit!”

His hands immediately released you and you scrambled away, breathing heavily. Sans laughed at the red flush still on your face and picked himself up off the messy ground. He held a hand out to you, still chuckling, “now we know not to get me out of bed like that, don’t we?”

You looked at his offered hand, at his twinkling eye lights, and shook your head. He shrugged, graciously accepting your refusal, and retrieved his blue hoodie from the floor.

“Don’t do that.” you said, your voice shaking, as you got to your feet.

“likewise.” Sans gestured at his mattress over his shoulder with a jerk of his thumb. “but, now that I’m up, let’s go do that thing you wanted.”

You led Sans down the oak stairs and into the kitchen, unsure if you wanted to be this near to him at the moment. Among all the crazy, unbelievable, hard to absorb things he had told you about the timelines, you had almost forgotten his confession to you. How could you be so stupid as to forget that, especially when you had originally gone to him for, for lack of a better term, relationship advice?

“you doin’ okay?” Sans asked as he leaned against the marble counter, watching you pull chocolate and cream from the fridge to place near the stove for the truffles.

“I’m fine.” you lied, pulling a variety of flavorings, cocoa powder, and some small, unmade white boxes from the cabinet.

“no, you’re not.” Sans gently took those things from you and set them on the counter. “come on, Thyme. you dressed worse than even I do today, there are dark circles under your eyes, and I can hear this frustrated keening noise from your soul. and you always bake when you’re upset. I’m lazy, not stupid.”

You said nothing, astonished that Sans could so easily read you, and took out a pan to melt the chocolate on the stove. Then again, according to him, he had known you for over two years.

“is it the timelines?” Sans came up to your side, careful to keep a bit of distance from you.

“...no. Not really.” You poured the cream and set the heat on the stove on low, then turned away from Sans again to chop up the block of chocolate at the counter. “I mean, yes, it is a lot to take in, but I think I’ll be fine with it. If I can accept my own mortality, I can accept alternate timelines.”

“you think dying is easier to accept than other realities?” Sans picked up a chunk of chocolate that ran from your cutting board and popped it between his teeth.

“I’ve had a long time to accept death. I just need more time for the alternate lines.” You shrugged and glanced at Sans, who’s white eye lights flickered in his way of an astonished blink. You turned back to the counter and gave the cream on the stove a good stir, to keep it from sticking and burning. “That’s not what’s bothering me, but don’t worry about it. It’s not your problem.”

“...you’re worried about me, aren’t you?”

“Yes.”

Sans’ lazy grin widened a little bit to hear you say that. “you always were the type to put others before yourself.” He stepped forward and took the spoon from you, taking over the job of stirring the cream while you chopped chocolate. “but it’s okay to be selfish, too, every once in a while. what’s really on your mind, Thyme?”

“Nothing, Sans. I just wanted to get you out of bed and doing something.”

Sans sighed and pulled at his face with one of his hands. “you do realize it’s almost impossible for you to lie when I can hear your soul, right? maybe you can with some of the others, but I know you too well.”

You started, the knife slipping in your hands, and Sans’ hand darted out to catch yours before you accidentally sliced your wrist open. While holding onto you, he let his pointer finger stick out. It quickly became wrapped in blue magic, filling the kitchen with the smell of damp wood. The cutting board hovered up and over to the stove, dumping the chocolate chunks into the warmed cream.

“if you don’t want to say it, that’s fine.” Sans let you go, but continued to slowly twirl his blue finger as he turned away from the stove. The spoon gently stirred the mixture in the pot behind him. “but I bet you anything I can guess. I know what truffles mean. you make them every time after you and Mutt get into an argument. and you want my advice on what to do, since I know about every other time you’ve been through this, right?”

You stared at Sans with wide eyes. Sure, you knew about the alternate timelines, but to have him demonstrate just exactly how much he knew, yet again, gave you chills. “How… how much else do you know? About what’s going on right now?”

“I don’t ‘know’ anything about this timeline, except for what’s already happened that I’ve experienced.” Sans shrugged, his finger dripping a small amount of blue plasma to the floor while he stirred the pot from afar. “but I know my brothers, and I know you, and so can make guesses about this one based off of the things I see that line up.”

“...what else do you guess?” you asked tentatively, grabbing small bowls from the cupboard, for mixing the future flavors, to give yourself something to do. 

“hm…” Sans hummed thoughtfully. He leaned over and nuzzled your neck again. You froze, feeling his breath through his nasal cavity for a moment, then he quickly pulled away. “Mutt caught you with Axe and got jealous. so Mutt went after you himself, but took it a little too far, and you pushed him away. you haven’t talked since, but you still care about him, so you’re trying to figure out how to make it up to him.”

“Okay, how the  _ hell _ do you know that?” You slammed a bowl down on the table and whirled around to glare at Sans. He knew way too much. That was almost the exact situation that led up to this point, with only a few errors. It was majorly creepy, and you might have punched him if you hadn’t known about the timelines.

“their marks are all over you.” Sans pointed at your neck, with the hand not enveloped with magic, and smiled lazily. “Axe’s mark isn’t that strong, which suggests he was interrupted, but then Mutt’s is on top of it, suggesting that he tried to cover it with his own. but you have intimacy issues, so if he took it too far, which he always does, you pushed him away.”

“He pushed  _ me _ away!” you said indignantly, “and what the hell do you mean ‘marks?’”

“he pushed you…?” Sans’ eye lights grew wide and his twirling finger paused. The spoon in the pot did likewise. “seriously? that’s… a new one.”

“Sans!”

“well, it is!” Sans stared at you in wonder and resumed twirling his finger. “every time we get to this point, where you get marked, you are the one to push whoever did it away.”

“What do you mean, marked?” You huffed irritably and began to measure out flavors in each bowl, for different kinds of truffles.

“scent marking.” Sans poked at your neck and you smacked him away. Him knowing everything was starting to irritate you. “monsters do it to let others know what’s ours. given your intimacy issues, I thought-”

“I don’t have intimacy issues.” You huffed irritably and checked the chocolate. Just because you were afraid of someone seeing your scars, did  _ not _ mean that you were afraid to be close to someone.

Sans sighed and backed away to let you take over the truffle making. “this has happened every time you get too close to one of my brothers. you’re wonderful at building relationships, you’re not afraid to show affection, but there is a line that gets crossed eventually and you go cold. it definitely explains why you’re the one taking the first step here, if Mutt is the one that pushed you away.”

“I do  _ not _ have intimacy issues!” You growled at Sans.

“yes, you do.” Sans smiled sadly as he looked at you. “I experienced it firsthand. you did it to me, too. the first time nearly broke my soul.”

You stopped stirring the chocolate. It had been fully blended for a long time, anyway, and you moved it to a different burner to cool. You stared at the dark, sweet smelling liquid. The first time, he said. How many times did you hurt him?

“I’m… sorry.” you looked into his eye lights, feeling guilty. Maybe the you of this timeline had nothing to do with it, but the other yous made this you feel responsible. “I don’t want to hurt you. Any of you. And I don’t want to be hurt…”

You laughed bitterly at yourself, thinking of the plan you had for Mutt earlier. Just be friends. Make excuses. Never let him see your scars. Maybe Sans was right, maybe you did have intimacy issues.

“Did I… ever tell you why?” You looked at Sans, who was watching you, your soul spot, nervously. “About why I pushed you away?”

“not everything, from what I guess.” Sans shook his head and sat up on the counter. “you always mentioned something about your fear of fire and your scars, but I’ve never seen them.”

“I never…?” Your hand reached down to grip the fabric of your sweatpants. Sans’ eye lights watched the movement. “So, I never… told you about that day?”

“which day?” Sans scratched at his skull. “you’ll have to be a bit more specific, Thyme.”

“That day!  _ The _ day! You would know it if I told you about it… What about my scars? Have I ever… as anyone ever seen…?” You looked up at him, desperate for him to understand without you having to say more, so you wouldn’t have to think about the pain in your soul ‘that day’ brought any more than you had to. He only gave you a confused look and shook his skull, and your soul plummeted. You had promised Butch to tell him, one day, about your fears while you shared each other’s past. You had promised Mutt, one day, to show him your scars. If what Sans was telling you was true, you had never done those things. You had broken your promises.

There was only one reason you should ever break a promise. The fact that you were not dead and had still broken the ones you made crushed your soul. It didn’t matter that they were broken in different timelines, the fact that you still did that hurt like a punch to the gut.

Sans got off the counter to approach you. He touched your arm and, when you didn’t jerk or pull away, he slowly pulled you into a hug.

“I don’t know about ‘that’ day,” he said, his low voice a whisper in your ear, “but you get the same look I do when I think about the timelines. I know it might be painful, but you should tell someone about it.”

“But-!” Sans stopped your words with a bony finger to your lips.

“do you know how hard it was for me to tell you about the timelines?” He released you from the hug and stuck his hands in his pockets. “the first time, I mean. I thought I would burden you with something that you were happier not knowing about. I didn’t want you to hate me because of how much I knew about you. but you forced it out of me anyways because you saw how much it hurt me and wanted to help. you always want to help. the second time was worse, because I knew you were trying to get close again, because you cared, and I was afraid of the same things as before, but now the possibility you would kill yourself loomed over it too.”

You stayed silent, listening to Sans, to the hard tone hidden in the forced lightness of his low voice.

“but I told you. for the wrong reason, sure.” Sans avoided your gaze as he admitted quietly, “I told you this time because… I could feel that mental break coming. I knew that if I told you this time, and the same thing happened, then nothing mattered at all. I would have followed you off that roof. even though that wouldn’t have mattered either.”

“Sans…” you reached out and took his hand, the one with the bracelet attached to it, and gave it a tight squeeze.

“the point i’m trying to get to here,” Sans cleared his non-existent throat, still avoiding your gaze, “is that when I told you this time, you accepted it. you accepted a big part of me that i still can’t stand. you were a bit put off, but you still wanted to help anyways. you asked me to stay. even now, you aren’t trying to hide from me. you pulled me out of bed and you’re trying to get me to stand up again. do you know what it feels like? that acceptance?”

His eye lights finally looked up and caught your gaze. You turned away, your face burning with shame, and shook your head. Telling your therapist was not like telling someone you trusted. Your therapist had seen you as a project, a broken puzzle to put together and then move on to the next one once completed. You had never told anyone else because of the fear that they would see you like that, too.

“it was like something poisonous was being pulled out of my soul.” Sans brushed your cheek with the back of his bony fingers. “I’m still getting used to it. my point is that you should find one of us that you trust and just say it. you’ll feel better.”

“Sans…” you sniffled, feeling your eyes burn. “I… I can’t tell you… not yet…”

“I don’t give two shits if it’s me.” Sans growled, and shook you, just once, startling you enough to stop your tears. “it doesn’t have to be me! tell any other my brothers, any of them that you feel like you can trust enough to bare your soul to. I just don’t want you to hurt anymore!”

You jumped again at the fierceness of his tone. 

“you’re wondering if I’ll be jealous if you told someone else?” Sans chuckled at the wary, yet curious look on your face. “yeah, a little. but i’ll also be happier knowing you’re happy. what I want shouldn’t come before you healing. you’ve spent so much time, not just in this timeline but the others too, trying to help us, but never did anything for you. be selfish for once and help yourself.”

“You… really think that?” You finally found his eye lights with your gaze and stared into them, watching them flicker softly as they looked back at you. “You don’t think that telling someone will… be a burden?”

“do you think of what I told you as that?”

You shook your head.

“there’s your answer.” Sans shook his skull with you, smiling. “cuz if whoever you tell really does care about you, Thyme, then they’ll just accept it.” his smile turned mischievous and he poked your sides. “and maybe if you finally deal with ‘that day’, you can deal with your intimacy issues.”

“I do not have intimacy issues!” You growled.

“then prove it.”

You gently punched his arm. Sans laughed and you were grateful for the mirth he brought back to the kitchen.

You returned to the now cooled chocolate, ready to be portioned out between the many bowls for the different flavors you were going to make. 

“Sans?”

“hm?” he hummed, watching you carefully pour chocolate.

“Thank you.”

Sans chuckled, a rolling melodic noise. “you needed to hear it eventually. just promise me you’ll do it this time.”

“...I promise.”

“don’t think you can get out of it, I know how much those mean to you.” Sans dipped his finger in a bowl of chocolate and stuck the coated digit between his teeth.

“Yeah, you know a bit too much about me for my liking, sometimes.” You smirked, thinking of a dumb prank to get back at him for tainting your truffle mix. You dipped your thumb in the pot of chocolate when Sans wasn’t looking and wiped a thick streak of it across the brow of his skull. “Simbaaaa.”

“what’s a ‘Simba?’” Sans asked as you roared with laughter. He smirked and picked up one of the bowls, tilting it towards his teeth.

“Don’t you do it!” You snapped, still smirking, as you watched the chocolate near the edge of the bowl. “I mean it, Sans, you won’t like it!”

“how do you know? maybe it’s my favorite.” Sans grinned and dumped the near liquid chocolate in his mouth. Moments later he dropped the bowl, sputtering. He rolled over on the counter to stick his jaw beneath the tap and ran water over his glowing, blue tongue while you laughed some more.

“That’s Mutt’s flavor.” You giggled, picking up the empty bowl to fill it back up with what remained in the pot. “He said he wanted something spicy, so I’m making him chili truffles.”

“the futh ith wron’ with tha’ guy?” Sans said, tongue still beneath the water, renewing your giggling.

“He said he wanted spicy.” You shrugged and handed Sans the spoon from the empty pot, assuring him it was plain chocolate, to coat his burning tongue with. As you watched Sans suck on the spoon, you asked, “What about you? What’s your favorite flavor?”

“wanna guess?” Sans smirked, his glowing tongue visible just between the gap in his teeth.

You focused on the first of your flavors, thinking about everything you knew about Sans. About the first time you can come in the house, the interactions he had with his brothers… didn’t they call him something else besides his name? “It’s not… vanilla, is it?”

“how’d you know?” Sans sat back onto the counter, spoon in his mouth, chocolate still streaked across his skull, and watched you roll the flavored chocolate into balls.

“Your brothers called you that.” You raised an eyebrow at him and rolled the ball in your hand in cocoa powder before dropping it on a parchment lined tray to cool. “But they always seemed mad at you when they did, so I wasn’t sure.”

“you’re still right.” Sans shrugged and dropped the chocolate free spoon into the sink beside him. “I let it slip once when getting nice cream that it was my favorite and they haven’t let me live it down since.”

“Is that why Red won’t admit he likes chocolate?” You dropped another truffle on the pan, making sure to keep them in neat rows so that when you boxed them, everyone would get to try one of each flavor. Except for the chili ones.

“Red doesn’t like to admit when he likes anything. but that’s probably part of the reason, yeah.”

You snickered again, seeing the chocolate still on Sans’ unaware skull. With the truffles finished and cooling, you took the stack of small, white boxes and began to assemble them for the brothers.

“Hey… Sans?” you said as you marked the name of one brother on a box with your marker, “Thanks again for what you said. I think it’s a really big thing of you to do. To tell me all that and then to tell me to go to one of your other brothers for help, even when you know I know about your… feelings.... means a lot.”

“don’t make a big deal out of it.” Sans shrugged, watching you box the truffles. “we’re not that close yet. If anyone should hear it, it should be Axe and Mutt. you’re dating them, after all.”

You dropped a truffle in surprise and it rolled away across the counter. You whirled on Sans, cheeks burning, “I am  _ not _ dating Axe and Mutt!”

“really?” Sans raised a brow at you, emphasized by the chocolate still streaked across it, and poked your neck. “this says otherwise.”

“The marks?” You felt your neck, getting chocolate on it from your hands while you tried to feel for something. A bite, a scratch, anything. “But… I can’t be! I never… with two…?”

Sans laughed at you, kicking his pink slippers in mirth. “we haven’t had that conversation yet, have we?”

“What conversation?!” You growled, ready to throw something at Sans for laughing at your confusion and embarrassment.

“monsters are polyamorous, Thyme.” Sans wiped a small dollop of magic from the corner of his socket that had been brought about by his laughter. “means we date-”

“I know what it means!” You resolutely turned back towards the truffles and finished them, grumbling to yourself. “I just… humans don’t usually do that!”

“well, if you’re with monsters, you should think long and hard about where you fit with that.” Sans found his box of completed truffles and popped one in his mouth. His lazy smile widened and he quickly ate another. “cuz two of my bros have already put a claim on you, and from what I know, there will definitely be more.”

“You can’t be alright with that.” You said, exasperated by this new source of monster lifestyle and how you were supposed to deal with it.

“I don’t care how many of my bros you date.” Sans shrugged, eating another truffle. “you’re not the type to use people. you go out of your way to take care of everyone, and you don’t play favorites. if you ask me, you’re already suited for the lifestyle. ….and I’ll get my shot, too.”

Your cheeks burned at the implication. No, this can’t be happening. You wanted to go back, this was so much pressure and you didn’t even think of yourself as being that involved with anyone yet-

“just take your time.” Sans chuckled at your embarrassment. “you still have those intimacy issues to work out, right? don’t forget your promise. just be you and it’ll all work out.”

“Sans, I can’t!” You whirled around to face him, “It’s not… they didn’t do that on purpose! They were forced to by that stupid soul song of mine, it-”

“hold up.” Sans held a hand in your face, his fingertips coated in chocolate, and set his box back on the counter. “what song?”

“That… that song of desire!” You said quickly, panicking now from all this information, hyperventilating at the thought of dating and multiple partners and of anyone seeing your naked body…. Holy shit Sans was right. Maybe you really did have intimacy issues. “It comes out and forces-”

“nope.” Sans pressed his chocolate covered hand to your mouth, stemming the flow of words, and grinned. “stopping you right there. take a few deep breaths and calm down, Thyme. you’re a human. your soul has magic, but it can’t be projected, like ours can. it’s impossible for your soul to ‘force’ us to do anything.”

“But…” you moved his hand away, still breathing a little too quickly. “But…”

“okay, how about this to explain it?” Sans slid off the counter to stand in front of you. “say I was to play your favorite song right now. would you want to dance?”

“I mean… yeah?”

“alright. Is that because the song forced you to dance, or because you liked it and wanted to dance anyway?”

“I guess… because I like it?” You said, starting to calm down a bit.

“and if I played the same song when you were angry, would it force you to dance despite how you feel?”

“No.”

“there you go, then. that’s how your song works with us.”

You looked at the tiled floor, feeling both better, because now you knew that you weren’t hurting the brothers just by feeling things, and stupid. How could you have not pieced that together? You had a huge range of emotions that they heard all the time and not once did they have some kind of forced reaction just by hearing it.

“T-thanks, Sans.” you mumbled sheepishly and returned to the truffles, to clean up the mess you had made by putting all the dirty dishes into the sink. “I… kind of feel like I’ve been making an ass out of myself, now.”

“for what?”

“For… what I thought I did to Mutt.” You admitted, avoiding his gaze as your cheeks burned again. Sans might say that monsters are polyamorous, but that didn’t mean that he wouldn’t get jealous. “I thought I forced him, and then I thought that… he didn’t… because of…”

Sans rolled his eye lights and stuffed the box of truffles with Mutt’s name on it in your hands. “just go talk to him, you idiot. I’m sure he had some kind of reason.”

“You mean you don’t know the answer?” You looked up, surprised, because so far Sans has had the answer to everything.

“nope. no idea.” Sans grabbed his box of truffles and dug around inside again. “I’m not a mind reader, Thyme. the timelines don’t magically give me omnipotent understanding. I get my answers from my own experiences and situational rationality.”

“AS IF YOU HAVE RATIONALITY!”

You jumped at the loud voice, at Papyrus walking into the kitchen. Pap smiled at you, and you smiled weakly back.

“hey bro, what’s for dinner?” Sans asked as he popped another truffle in his mouth.

“NOTHING, IF YOU KEEP SPOILING YOUR APPETITE!” Pap snatched the box out of Sans’ hands. Turning to you, he asked sweetly, “DID YOU WANT TO HELP ME COOK, HONEY?”

“nah, she’s got a date with Mutt that she’s late for.” Sans said, chuckling at you as your face immediately flushed. Pap looked at you in surprise and you avoided his curious gaze by staring at the box in your hands.

“Don’t let Axe eat all the chocolate.” You mumbled and dashed towards the basement door.

Behind you, you heard Pap ask, “SANS, WHY IS THERE CHOCOLATE ALL OVER YOUR FOREHEAD?”

While you disappeared inside the door you heard Sans laugh and shout at you, “you just started a prank war, Simba! hope you’re ready for it!”

You leaned against the basement door, trying to calm your racing heart, and listened to the muffled sounds of Pap chastising Sans. You stared down the creaky steps into the dark and could just barely make out the glow of the computer Mutt worked at. Your heart started to race again, wondering if you were prepared for this situation at this moment in time.

The box of truffles shook in your hands. It wasn’t your fault. You didn’t force him to do anything. But still, he had pulled away from you, and the reason he might give was what you were afraid of.

Still, you didn’t want to avoid him. You wanted to keep your promises. The yous from other timelines were not the you of now. Feeling emboldened by that thought, you knocked on the wall. It had been rude of you to just barge in without asking at the door, but you could at least try to make up for it.

“Sup?” Mutt’s raspy voice called up the stairs. Nervously, you went down. Each step creaked under your socked feet, and you shivered at the cold when you reached the concrete.

Mutt was still sitting at his computer, typing away, an unlit cigarette between his sharp teeth. His black hoodie was draped over the back of his swivel chair. He didn’t even look over his shoulder at you as he said, “Laundry, right? Go for it.”

“That’s… um… not the whole reason I’m down here.” You mumbled as you crossed the cold concrete. Mutt hit a couple of keys, minimizing whatever he was doing, and turned at your approach. His red eye lights darted to the box in your hands, but his expression was otherwise neutral.

“You shouldn’t be down here, Robin.” Mutt looked back at the computer screen before his red eye lights could meet yours. “Not for long, anyways.”

“I wanted to say I’m sorry.” you said and offered the box to him. Mutt looked at it, confused, and only took it when you practically forced it into his hands. “I thought… I had did something to hurt you, and I didn’t try to talk to you about it, and-”

“What are you talking about?” Mutt finally met your gaze, and he looked more confused than he had before.

“I thought I forced you!” You said quickly, your face flushing. “I thought I forced you to… with me… because of that stupid-! And then when you pushed me away, I thought that you hated me because- because of-”

“Woah, Robin, slow down.” Mutt set the box on his keyboard and put his hands on your shoulders. “What are you talking about?”

“And that’s why you’re avoiding me!” You tried to breathe, but your short gasps weren’t doing anything. Mutt got out of his chair and eased you onto the cold floor. His black cigarette fell from his teeth and rolled away.

“Just breathe.” He said gently and lifted one of his hands from your shoulders to run his fingers through your hair. The touch immediately started to calm you and you closed your eyes, letting the sensation soothe your nerves. When you could finally take deep breaths, he asked, “So, what are you trying to say?”

“I’m sorry.” You mumbled to his orange turtleneck. “I thought my soul had compelled you to… do those things with me. I thought I hurt you.”

“Stars, no!” Mutt wiped your tears away with his thumb, his red eye lights trembling. “I… I mean, I have been avoiding you, but not why you think. Your soul didn’t make me do anything! I pulled away because you had just told me that you were afraid of that song and that you were scared of someone seeing your scars.”

Tears welled up in your eyes as you remembered your past rejections, at the fear you had of admitting that you were afraid of that happening again, now. “I thought that you were able to pull away from me, because of my scars, that I disgusted you… and that’s why you’ve been avoiding me.”

“Why would you think that? I’m curious about them, but they don’t disgust me.”

“You haven’t even seen them.” You said bitterly, clenching at the fabric on your legs.”

“But I  _ want _ to, Robin.” Mutt pressed, turning your face to look at his own. “I just don’t want to push you to show me. I don’t mind waiting until you’re ready. However long you need. Because I...”

A deep flush of burnt orange crossed his nasal ridge, all the way across his cheekbones.

You sniffed and wiped your face on your sweater. Chocolate came away on the sleeve, mixed with your tears. You gave Mutt a shaky smile. “I know I was being stupid, thinking that the song would compel you. And… and I know that I have some problems, too. Sans pointed them out to me.”

“What.” Mutt growled, looking up at the staircase.

“Not anything bad!” Your hands jumped up and grabbed his arm, before he could get to his feet. “It was good, Mutt. Good! He… he made me realize that I need to talk about something so next time if we… get that close... I don’t pull away from you.”

“Next time?” Mutt’s eye lights returned to your blushing face, a smirk pulling at his sharp teeth.

You nodded. “I’ve learned a lot today. Most importantly, if I’m being selfishly honest, I learned that if I want to be close to you, to anyone, I have to open up. I care a lot about you, Mutt, and I  _ want _ to be close. So… so I think… it’s time I told you. Showed you. My scars.”

Mutt’s brow jumped up in surprise, his mouth hung open just slightly.

“Not right now,” you said to that look, “because it’s not just you who I want to tell. I know I promised you I would show you my scars, but I also promised Butch I would tell him about… what makes me disassociate. I don’t know if I have it in me to tell that story even once, so please don’t make me tell it twice.”

“Your scars make you…?” Mutt’s brow furrowed, and then a light of understanding crossed his face. “Oh, you mean your fear of fire.”

You nodded. “So… so tonight after d-dinner, I’ll… I’ll meet you guys in my room and… and tell you.”

Mutt pulled you into him so that he could wrap his arms around you. You welcomed the comfort and buried your face in his turtleneck, happy to smell cloves again. Happy to have that feeling again.

“Are you sure you’re ready?”

“...no.” You admitted to the orange cloth. “I’m not ready. But I learned today that I’ll never feel ready. So I’m going to just do it. I trust you and Butch the most, so I want you two to be the ones that hear.”

“I’ll be there.” Mutt nuzzled your ear affectionately. “And Robin… what’s with the box you brought?”

“Oh, those are those truffles I promised.” You giggled. “But you might be mad… Sans got to try your flavor. And he hated it!” You laughed, recalling Sans with his tongue under the sink. “He said it was way too spicy!”

“You said I was the only one who would get that.” Mutt growled, but in a playful sort of way. “But if you were with Sans… that explains why you’re covered in chocolate…”

“Yeah, we kind of got messy making things.” You shrugged as Mutt moved your hair from your neck, inspecting all the chocolate spots. “But I’ll make it up to you. I’ll-eep!”

Mutt’s glowing tongue was on your neck, licking the chocolate away. You shivered at the hot touch, your face flushing. You tried to pull away but his hands grabbed your arms and held you in his lap.

“You just said you’d make it up to me, right?” He purred in your ear. “So let me have some fun.”

Your faced flushed a deeper red. You had just told him you wanted to be close, but you didn’t think he would jump on that so quickly. Not that you didn’t want it, too. “Just… just don’t go too far…”  
“All you have to do is say no, Robin.”

You nodded, your heart racing in your chest, and Mutt returned his attention to your neck. One of his hands drifted up and his fingers intertwined in your hair. He pulled your head to the side, trailing his glowing tongue down your neck and to the top of your chest not covered by your sweater. You felt his sharp teeth graze the soft spot on your neck and you shivered, that heat sparking in your stomach.

His other hand slowly trailed down your arm, and across your belly. He nipped at your soft spot and you bit your own lip to keep from moaning. He must have known you were trying to resist, even just a little bit, because he nipped you again, harder. This time you couldn’t stifle yourself. Mutt shivered at your sound and took you out of his lap, pushed you onto the floor, and climbed on top of you.

He pressed his sharp teeth to your lips and you instantly parted them to allow his tongue to taste yours. Your hands came up, grabbed the fabric of his turtleneck, and pulled him against your body. One of his hands found your hair again, to pull it gently, while the other ran down the fabric over your sides, down to your thighs, squeezing every now and then.

You parted your legs and wrapped them into his, pulling him closer to you. His breath was hot against your face as he returned to your neck, nipping you softly. He slowly ground his hips against yours, his breathing heavy as he pulled at your hair again. Something pressed against you through your sweatpants, something hard that made you wet with need and you moaned again, silently pleading…

Mutt pulled away, turning from you as he sat on the floor and pushed against the front of his sweatpants. He was breathing hard, trying not to look at you, as he said, “W-we need to… to stop. If I… if this… I won’t be able to… control myself any more.”

You whined a bit, disappointed, but nodded to him. You sat up and twisted that spot on your neck, hard. All it reminded you of was Mutt nipping at your neck, and the heat in your belly surged.  
“Robin, please.” Mutt moaned, watching you. “I can’t…”

“I’m trying to turn it off!” You said quickly, twisting again. You yelped at a particularly aggressive twist that included your fingernails. For good measure, you twisted again, and felt satisfied that all you could feel was the cold pain washing that heat away.

“I think we need to be more careful…” You chuckled bitterly, feeling guilty that you had given consent to torture yourself like this. “Maybe we should… Mutt?”

Mutt had turned away from you and was still breathing heavily. You got up off the floor and put a hand on his back. “Are you… okay?”

“I’m… fine.” he panted, looking away from you. “Give me… time. I don’t have an off switch…”

You watched Mutt, feeling guilty that he should be like this because of you, because you couldn’t let yourself go all the way and satisfy both your urges. You had hated yourself, thinking that you would hurt someone with that song of desire, but what was it like for Mutt, who couldn’t just turn it off with a twist? If only you didn’t have those damned scars all over your body so you wouldn’t be afraid to get close… You cared about him so much, you didn’t want to see him, leave him, like this...

A light went on in your head. There was a way. A way where you didn’t have to let anyone see you. You didn’t have to be afraid, and he would be happy. ...hopefully.

“Mutt, lie down.” You said and gently pushed his shoulder. He looked at you, his brow furrowed with confusion. “I’m going to help you. Just lie down on your back and trust me.”

Still looking confused, Mutt did as you told him to and laid down on the cold concrete. You sat just under his pelvis, wondering if this was going to even work, and put your hands on the band of his sweatpants.

“You okay with this?” You looked up at him, meeting his red eye lights. He got up onto his elbows to watch you.

“I don’t even know what ‘this’ is.” He quirked a bony brow at you.

“I’m going to help you.” You said and looked down. Something was there, something not part of a normal skeleton’s body. This should work. “I just want your consent.”

“You had it a long time ago, Robin.” Mutt smirked at you, still looking confused.

You nodded. “Just tell me if you want me to stop.”

Holding onto his waistband, you mentally prepared yourself for whatever you were about to see, what you were about to do, and pulled them down. Mutt squirmed beneath you as you released a glowing, orange member from his pants. You were fascinated. It must be the same kind of magic that made his tongue.

“Uh, what are you doing?” Mutt asked, his skull completely flushed as you hovered over it.

“Eventually… turning you off.” You smirked and lowered your head, wrapping your lips around that magic. You felt Mutt shudder beneath you and took that as a good sign.

It had been a long time since you had done this, seven years in fact, but as you slowly took his full length into your mouth the technique all came flooding back to you. You slackened your jaw, made a vacuum with your lips, and ran your tongue all up and down the length as you slowly bobbed your head.

“H-holy…!” Mutt fell back onto the floor, his breath heaving. Blindly, you found one of his hands with yours and put it on your head so he could tell you how fast he wanted you to go. He didn’t seem to understand what you were trying to imply, because that hand fell to your shoulder and he squeezed tightly.

Was this really his first blowjob?

You rolled your eyes and closed them to focus on your task. You kept up the slow pace, letting him squirm beneath you, until you felt a throb against your lips. Time to go faster.

Mutt moaned again and he bucked his hips beneath you, but you had already been sitting on him, so it didn’t disrupt your flow. You ran your tongue against the length again, increasing speed, pressing the tip against the roof of your mouth and squeezing it between your hard palate and tongue.

His hand found your head and you let him guide you, going faster as the pressure from his fingers indicated. He bucked again, moaning. Without warning he slammed your head down, immersing himself completely behind your lips. Hot, not quite liquid filled your mouth, nearly choking you. It tasted almost like clove, but spicier. You swallowed as Mutt went limp beneath you and you sat up, wiping your mouth on your sweater.

“Better?” You asked, smirking, as you watched Mutt lay spread eagle on the concrete floor.

He didn’t say anything for a moment, just breathed and stared at the ceiling. Then his red eye lights drifted down to your face. “Where the hell did you learn to do that?”

“I do  _ not _ have intimacy issues!” You told him proudly, defiantly. He raised a bony brow at you.

“...never said you did?” He said, obviously confused. You smiled and got on the ground next to him, cuddling him. He wrapped his arms around you and pulled you onto his chest.

This was so nice, so wonderful, to be able to be close to someone like this. You don’t know how you survived for all those long years without it.

“Just don’t ever ask me to take my clothes off.” You mumbled, letting your head rest against his ribs. “Not until I’m ready.”

But you wanted to be ready. You didn’t want to push this away, this feeling. You wanted to love someone and be loved back, to be physically close. If that meant exposing your soul, to try once again after so many failures, then you would do it. Defiance welled up in you, fighting the fear that always came when you thought of showing someone your deepest self. 

“Whatever you want, Robin.” Mutt smiled, laying his head back on the cool floor and closing his sockets. “Whatever you want.”

“I kind of want some food.” You pressed your tongue against your teeth, still tasting that weird spice, and got up off the floor. “How about I change out my laundry and we go get something to eat?”

“...I love you so much, Robin.”

“Don’t say that just yet.” You smiled, your heart warming at the words, and ventured into the laundry room. “Not until… until you see me.”

If he could love you after that, then you would say it back. Anyone who could accept your scars was worth holding on to forever.  
“You should probably change, while you’re in there.” Mutt’s raspy voice said from the other room while you cycled your clothes. “If you don’t want to go upstairs smelling like sex. Not that I mind…”

You growled and thrust the last of your whites in the washing machine. Stupid monsters and their stupid sense of smell. At least Mutt had been nice enough to finish up your colors, while you were upstairs earlier. He even put the clean things back in your duffel bag. You shut the laundry room door to strip down and throw your sweats in with the next cycle. Minutes later you returned to Mutt, dressed in a purple sweater dress and damp, black stockings.

He was up as well, and eating the truffles you had made for him. He offered you one and you took a bit of it gratefully, enjoying the taste of smooth, dark chocolate and almond as it washed away that spice.

“So, quick question.” You asked as you licked chocolate off your lips. Mutt looked down at you, his red lights sparkling with affection. “Since you’re a skeleton, how…?”

“Magic.” Mutt shrugged and popped another truffle into his void. “Monsters come in all shapes and sizes. Males of my species need to be able to accommodate the shape of their mate, so our magic helps us. If we couldn’t do that, we’d have died out a long time ago.”

“And how come you didn’t change?” you asked, looking at the same sweatpants and turtleneck that Mutt always seemed to wear.

“I changed my pants, at least.” Mutt gestured to one of the many laundry piles behind him. “But I couldn’t find a different shirt. I don’t mind though, being claimed is nothing to be ashamed of.”

You raised an eyebrow at him and ate the rest of your truffle. “I didn’t claim you.”

“This scent says otherwise.” Mutt smirked and pulled at the front of his turtleneck. The smirk widened as he added, “Heh, I bet someone’s gonna be jealous… and it’s not me, for once.”

“Don’t you go bragging!” You snapped, your face cherry red as you climbed the stairs together. “I don’t want what I did for you getting around! That was between us!”

“Relax, Robin.” Mutt kissed the top of your head and opened the door. “I won’t tell a soul.”

The chatter of the seven other skeleton brothers instantly died as you and Mutt entered the kitchen. Eye lights jumped between the two of you, some with lights narrowed, some with wide eye sockets. Your face burned.

“What’s for dinner?” Mutt asked casually and slid into a chair. He might be his usual self if he didn’t have that stupid, superior smirk on his face. You sat next to him, slouching so far in your chair that you wished you could disappear under the table. Axe, who sat next to you, tilted his skull curiously at your behavior.

“I HAVE MADE TACOS!” Papyrus announced proudly as Butch set plates in front of you and Mutt, the only ones at the table without food, before taking his seat next to Axe. Butch was also watching you curiously and you slid further down when you noticed his shy gaze.

“how was the date, then?” Sans snickered across from you. You glared at him over the edge of the table.

“Did you at least finish those programs?” Milord sighed as he glared at Mutt.

“Oh, I finished all right.” Mutt smirked. You punched his leg beneath the table and he winced.

“PERHAPS YOU SHOULD SET THE PET’S PLATE UNDER THE TABLE, PAPYRUS.” Edge sneered as he glanced your way. “IT SEEMS TO WANT TO BE THERE, ANYWAY.”

That statement made you sit up straight. Even with your face burning, even with everyone’s eye lights occasionally flickering your way, you did not want to just melt away. Yes, you were embarrassed at the immediate attention, but you were not ashamed, and you were not going to let Edge use this situation to make snappy remarks.

“I was just stretching my back, Edge.” You smirked and made eye contact with him. If everyone knew anyway, you weren’t going to pretend nothing happened. “Gotta stay limber, you know? Food’s amazing, Pap, you really outdid yourself,” you added as you ate half a taco in one bite. Pap beamed at you.

You listened quietly to the chatter of the brothers as you ate your meal. Axe was telling Butch about a herd of deer passing through this end of the woods. Milord was berating Mutt, who was taking it all in good stride and making jokes about it. Pap was nagging Red, telling him to eat more, and Red was refusing because it ‘looked weird.’ Edge was taking turns snapping at everyone. Sans sat quietly in the corner, smirking at you.

Did he somehow know this would happen? Did this exact situation happen in another timeline, and he just helped it along by goading you, by telling you that you were something just so that you would prove that you were not?

“just keep your promises, Thyme.” his low voice whispered, carrying over the other voices to you. You remembered what you had promised Sans, Mutt, and Butch. You nodded at him.

“Thank you,” you mouthed. He shrugged, still smiling, and returned to his tacos. You leaned over to Mutt, whispering to him that he should bring Butch upstairs after they were all done, and stood. You thanked Papyrus for cooking, deposited your plate in the sink, and headed back to your room to prepare yourself.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, just wanted to say... this story was always going to include that kind of stuff in it. But it's not going to be just that. No, I write that way so that I can use that act as a symbolic expression of trust and love. Which is what it is anyway! So... sorry if I burned anyone's eyes out. But I'm also not sorry. 
> 
> Something that won't be in the story, but I think you should know... please keep in mind that She comes from a culture composed primarily of monogamous relationships. It's natural for her to gravitate towards one individual at first. So if you're worried about the other boys... don't. They'll all get their chances, and I try to avoid favoritism. But if there is someone in particular you all want to be the 'official' first time, I'm listening. :)
> 
> Also, if you can think of any additional tags I might need to add... please tell me. I'm terrible with tags.
> 
> Thank you for reading you lovely people!


	9. Ch 9 - That Day

Ch 9 - That Day

You sat on your bed, wrapped in your cream colored sheets, your hands idly fiddling with the leather sleeves of your jacket. It was a little too warm, with all of these things covering you, but it helped you feel safe. It helped you feel like you could stay covered, despite what you were about to expose.

Beyond the frosty glass of your circular window, the snow swirled and built up on the ledge. It looked like a blizzard was moving in, but you didn’t have your phone to check the weather. Maybe later, if you felt up to it, you could get your phone back from Red. Even if you didn’t get it today, there was always tomorrow.

You stared out the window, letting the dancing snow take you away for a moment. For a long while you just stared in silence. You tried not to think too much; to let your anxiety overwhelm you. You wanted to do this. They were the ones you trusted the most. 

Your fingers burrowed beneath your sheets, idly touching your ankles, your lower legs. All of the bare, warped skin that hid beneath your sheets. Even though Butch and Mutt had yet to come upstairs, the fact that you were sitting here, without any stockings on, gave you a feeling of finality that nothing else really could. You were going to do this.

A knock echoed up the narrow staircase and you jumped. Your voice cracked as you called for them to come in. The echo of the door clicking shut reached your ears and you pulled your sheets tightly around you, trying to take deep breaths.

“Hey, Robin. Sorry we took so long.” Mutt smiled at you, his golden fang winking, as his and Butch’s tall frames climbed up the narrow staircase. Butch was close behind him, looking slightly confused as to why he was there, and he pulled as his red sleeves nervously. “Sans thought it would be funny to try and start a food fight after you left, and Milord went nuts. We had to clean up the kitchen before we could get away.”

You softly smiled back and patted your bed, inviting the two brothers to sit with you. So Sans tried to buy you some time, huh? You would have to thank him later; you definitely needed that extra hour.

“is... everything okay… Lily?” Butch’s bony brow was furrowed with concern as he sat cross legged on your bed. Mutt sat next to him, his legs hanging off the edge, and laid so that his propped arm was holding him up.

“I’m fine.” You said to Butch, you voice shaking just slightly. “Did… did Mutt not tell you why…?”

“no…” Butch tiled his skull curiously, his white eye lights looking between you and Mutt. “just that… you wanted to talk… to us.”

“That’s right,” you nodded, pulling the sheets tighter, your voice just barely above a whisper. “I… think it’s time. To… to show you. My scars. And if I show them to you, I have to tell you how they happened. That way you’ll understand everything. Why I cover myself so much, why I dissociate… So… so that’s why I wanted you to come up. To tell you.”

“You don’t have to do this if you’re not ready.” Mutt said quietly, his bony brow furrowed with concern as he watched you fidget uncomfortably. 

Butch’s sockets widened slightly in surprise, in understanding why he was here, and he nodded in agreement. “I… want to hear… what happened… if you’re ready.”

Your eyes met their gazes and Butch held out a hand to you. You let your hand snake out from under the sheets and took it gratefully, holding it tightly. Mutt’s hand reached out to rest on your covered up thigh and gave it a reassuring squeeze. 

“I care so much about you both,” you said softly, your eyes drifting down towards the leather of your jackets. “I want you guys to know me. I want to be close to you, for you to understand my fears. This… this is the biggest secret I have. I’ve never shared this story with someone that I cared about. With anyone, really. It’s always been too hard, or I’ve been too afraid...”

“if... you’re sure…” Butch’s thumb drifted over the back of your hand and you returned the comforting gesture.

“I’m… only going to say this once.” You said, looking back up and meeting their red and white eye lights. You steadied yourself with a deep breath and sat up a little straighter. It was time. “So please, don’t make me repeat myself.”

“we’re here… for you.” Butch smiled nervously and you smiled nervously back.

You closed your eyes, letting yourself feel Butch’s hand in yours, of Mutt’s hand on your leg. You wanted to remember the pressure of their touches to keep yourself anchored. You reminded yourself that they  _ wanted _ to hear this, that they didn’t see you as a broken puzzle. You remembered Sans telling you that talking about this wouldn’t be a burden and that you would feel better. But you had lived with this for so long, carrying it all by yourself, what would it feel like once someone else finally knew? 

Would they accept you?

You pushed the anxiety away. You promised you would do this. Once you had told them, once you were done reliving this, you never had to again. It wasn’t like when you were in the hospital. You weren’t just something to be fixed to them. 

It was only once…. 

You took another deep breath, stared at the sheets, and began. “Seven years ago, I lived in the city with my parents.”

_ It was halfway through junior year, almost to the end of winter. The snow outside was already starting to melt and you could feel spring trying to show itself through the chilly air. You and your friends were excited for junior prom and stayed up late every night the week prior fussing over what to wear. That particular night you had just gotten off a group chat with them, full to bursting with anticipation. You practiced dancing around your room, your arms held up to hold the phantom image of your boyfriend as your phone played a slow song that you dearly hoped would show up again that weekend. Your eyes fell on the slim, black dress with a low cut top, a thin slit running up the side to show off your legs, and smiled. _

_ You had to cook dinner for yourself and left extra on the stove for your family. It happened that way sometimes; when your parents got tied up at their jobs. Sometimes it bothered you, but your parents always made it up to you.  _

_ Mom had gotten home late that night and walked in with slumped shoulders and eyes like glass. She had a case with these two girls, a case that made her hardened eyes water and her voice fall away as she tried to tell you about it in the kitchen while you served her a plate of mac n cheese. You understood. Sometimes there were ones like that, ones that hurt her and she couldn’t say anything at all. You hugged her and she squeezed you back tightly, like she was trying to compact you and turn your soft body into metal just from the pressure. You told her that it would get better, since those girls had your mom helping them now. _

_ You pulled her upstairs, into your room, to distract her from thinking about her job by helping you pick out a pair of shoes to go with your dress. She had enough patience to pick out a pair of tasteful, strappy heels from among your collection before excusing herself to lie down in her dark room. You knew she would have a migraine in the morning and chased after her with a bottle of pain killer. She smiled weakly as you handed her the pills and promised you that she would make tonight up to you. That weekend, after the dance, she wanted to hear about everything that happened, all the drama and anything else you wanted to share. She would make your favorite dessert and wanted to spend the day listening to you and watching movies together while you ate sweets. You were happy to hear that. Your parents never broke their promises. You agreed and left her in your parent’s room, in the dark and quiet, and told her to call for you if she needed you. _

_ Your dad arrived way past the normal dinner time, way past when he usually comes home. The boys had just gotten a new truck at the station and couldn’t resist driving it around the city. He knew how they could be, he knew they would turn on the siren and race it down the freeway just to revel in the newness of it. You laughed together as he admitted that, even though he shouldn’t have, he let them turn on the siren and they had taken a joy ride around the city. Just to test the vehicle and assure that it was up to code, of course. You were glad he was late because of something fun. Too often, when he came home late like this, he came home smelling of smoke. His face would be streaked with black ash, and there was an exhaustion that made his eyes look distant, like he was staring at something only he could see. _

_ He never talked about the things he saw, that he experienced, that gave him that look. He always told you it wasn’t for you to hear or think about. He said he knew how you could be, and that you would only get upset hearing about those things when you couldn’t do anything to help. _

_ He didn’t even take off his leather jacket before he ate. He shoveled the food you gave him into his mouth, joking about his day between bites and the dumb things his men would do on occassion. Like how one of them tried to pole dance on the beam in the station and failed miserably, or how another one tried to wear too many of their heavy, protective jackets and fell on his back like a turtle. He laughed about it now, but you knew that he had yelled at them in the moment for acting silly on the job. _

_ You kissed your dad on the top of his head and retired for the night, insisting you needed beauty sleep if you were going to look your best for this weekend. Your dad joked that he was going to follow you and park a fire truck outside the school, just to honk the horn whenever any boy got within a few feet of you. You argued with him, your cheeks burning with embarrassment, but went to bed smiling. _

Mutt opened his mouth, like he was going to ask a question, but Butch elbowed him and shook his skull to show he should stay quiet. Mutt’s sharp teeth snapped shut and his red eye lights watched you as he waited patiently for you to continue. You silently thanked Butch by squeezing his hand. Now that you had started, it was much easier to keep going than it was to stop, answer questions, and start again.

_ You went to bed after midnight. The smoke alarms woke you in the dark, blaring, but you couldn’t see their flashing lights. The air stung your eyes as you tried to see. Your throat burned as you tried to breathe the acidic smoke and you fell to the floor, coughing violently. You were afraid, confused. You wanted out. You wanted to find your mom and dad. You crawled across the floor, struggling to breathe the smoky air, to your door. _

_ The metal doorknob to your room burned your hands and you cried out in pain. You got off the floor and rammed the door with your shoulder, trying to free yourself. It didn’t budge. You rammed it again, and again, and finally it gave away. _

_ You fell into a hall of fire. Flames licked up the walls, the banisters of the stairs. Glass shattered as the overwhelming dry heat destroyed the picture frames that hung on the walls. You tried to cry out for your parents, but the smoke choked your words and you could only cough and dry heave as it invaded your lungs and strangled you.  _

_ You heard your dad. He was yelling at you from your parents room, yelling at you to get out. He and your mom would follow. Just get out, now! _

_ The fear in your dad’s voice made you stand back up. Dad was never afraid. You ran towards the stairs, down the burning steps. The flames licked at your feet and you fell, tumbling down, the pain in your soles screaming alongside the aggressive impact. You landed on your belly, on the hot tile, and your head spun from lack of oxygen as you tried to orient yourself through your panic. _

_ The fire had claimed everything downstairs. Everywhere you looked was a wall of red, orange, and yellow. The banister from the staircased cracked above you and fell, and you screamed as it hit you and you felt something in your arm shatter. It laid across your back, your arm, and pinned you to the floor. You screamed, though your lungs burned as you breathed in the smoke. You fought against the heavy wooden beam, your hands blistering as you tried to push up from the hot tile, and realized in an almost detached way that the banister had crushed your right arm and it was useless.  _

_ The ceiling above you cracked, gave away, and nearly buried you alive. Pain like you had never felt before wracked your body, seared every one of your nerves, and you shrieked a raw, primal noise of agony. For what felt like a thousand years, you felt hell itself forcing its way into your skin and consume your very flesh. You shrieked wordlessly for your mom, your dad, for mercy, and tasted the blood in your mouth as your smoke abused throat cracked and broke. You don’t know if you cried. It was too hot for any tears to stay. You writhed and tried to fight your way out, but the fire was determined to claim you for its own. _

You bent over, tears streaming down your face, and clutched whatever was in your hands tightly. Your breath came in short gasps and you could feel the memory coming to life around you as you spoke it. You shook violently from the adrenaline rushing into your veins and your heartbeat thudded like a war drum in your throat. Your ears were ringing with a high pitched, voiceless keening and a hot sweat had broken out on your skin. Something was touching you. It held your face, rubbed your cheek, and was speaking to you softly.

“...five… you… see.” You heard from very far away.

You mumbled to that voice. Smoke. Fire. Tile. The voice told you to try again.

“Sheets…” Your voice shook as much as your body. The someone that was touching you was gentle, and their touch helped coax you back from the memory. “leather, bone, sweater… s-scars…”

Butch gently guided you through the same grounding countdown you had once used on him. By the end of it you were breathing normally and the sweat on your skin had gone cold. Butch held your hands in his and you looked at his face. Grey plasma was leaking from the corners of his sockets and his white eye lights wavered sadly.

Next to him, Mutt sat abnormally still while he watched you. The lights had gone out in his sockets, his mouth hung slightly open. He had taken his hand back and had twisted your sheets in his fingers to the point that, if he strained the material any more, it would tear.

“how... how did you… survive?” Butch asked quietly, sniffed, and wiped at the grey plasma on his skull with the back of his red sleeve. The fingers of his hands were now entwined in yours and you held them for a long while, just breathing, before you were ready to begin again.

_ Then the beam was moving. You were being pulled from the debris of the ceiling. Your dad picked you up, held you close, and barreled through the flames like an angry bull. He rammed the front door with his broad shoulder and the weakened wood shattered in his wake. He ran into the yard, stumbled, and took a knee as he laid you on the soaking wet ground. _

_ ‘Just wait here, kiddo,’ he said, his voice like steel, as he pulled off his leather jacket and covered you against the chill that felt so good against the hot pain. ‘I have to go back, your mom is trapped.’ _

_ ‘No, don’t…’ you croaked and reached out and grabbed at him with your good arm, barely registering that it wasn’t the color you remember. It was dark red, angry. Dad avoided your grasping fingers and sprinted back towards the house. Towards fire and hell and a high pitched scream that echoed out across the lawn. Your mom. _

_ ‘I’ll be back, I promise!’ he yelled and vanished through the broken door, through the smoke. _

_ ‘No… daddy!’ _

_ You tried to move, to get up off the soaking ground to go after him, but your body wouldn’t obey. Your ruined flesh screamed in protest and bile rose in your burned throat. You cried as you threw up, from the pain of your own acid touching your face and shoulder, from the pain in your body that was slowly building in intensity as it fought to overtake your adrenaline. _

_ Soon you could hear sirens and the screech of tires. Men shouted to each other, familiar voices, as you laid on the ground and watched your home start to crumble. _

_ ‘We got a kid!’ One of the voices shouted and ran over to you. _

_ ‘Holy shit, that’s Cap’s daughter!’ Another said and bent over you. He pulled a mask out and gently fitted it over your face. You could feel cool air blow against your dry, burned lips. ‘He must’ve gone back inside. Get that fucking fire out!’ _

_ ‘Paramedics are en route. Get moving, people! Go go go!’ _

_ The gas made you dizzy. You drifted, barely aware of what was happening around you, but you could still feel the pain. It was all over you, inside you, consuming you. You tried to call out for your parents, to say their names, but no words left your burned lips. _

_ Someone you didn’t know floated above you. They said something you couldn’t understand and another someone joined them. Hands reached out to move your abused body and you screamed in pain. They kept moving you despite your wordless protests, placed you on something, and then the world was white. _

You buried your face in your hands, sobbing. “Dad… he gave me his jacket to protect me. My burns… I could have died while lying there exposed to the elements. I  _ should _ have died in that fire. He…” you wiped your face on your sheets, “he gave me his only protection so… so I would be safe. If he hadn’t… he might’ve…”

Mutt’s red lights had come back. The expression on his skull was a strange mix of awe and horror. Next to him, Butch’s bony hands were squeezing yours to the point your fingers were going numb from lack of circulation. Grey plasma was once more silently flowing from the corners of his sockets and over his cheekbones.

“After that… I was at the hospital.”

_ You woke up in a white room, surrounded by transparent walls of plastic. Immediately, the pain overwhelmed you. You screamed, trying to let the all consuming pain out; screamed until you coughed up blood from your throat and soaked the gauze that covered your face like a mask. Doctors wrapped in plastic suits rushed in at the noise you made, fitting bags on thin metal stands, and pumped you full of ice cold fluids. The clear liquids filled your veins and forced you into sleep. _

_ They kept you on morphine to keep you calm. During rare, lucid moments, you learned what had happened, the reason for it all. _

_ The fire had started from faulty wiring inside the walls. The blaze had eaten the synthetic insulation, growing in strength, before bursting open the walls like an over ripe fruit and into your home. That’s why the alarms didn’t go off until it was too late. It should never had happened; your home had been new, not even ten years old, and the city was investigating the electrician that had worked on it. _

_ Just because you understood that it wasn’t your fault didn’t change what had happened. That three quarters of your body, the part that was buried in the rubble or pinned by the banister, was covered in third degree burns and had melted off of your skin like slime. The rest of your body was covered in second or first degree burns. Your broken arm was kept suspended and you had to be given extra medication while they changed the bandages around the break. You had no hair left anywhere. _

_ Due to the severity of your injuries, you were set up in a sterile ward and forbidden to have human contact outside of your doctors. The risk of infection was high enough without that unnecessary exposure. _

_ As you drifted on the drugs they gave you, you expected to wake up at any time at your home, in your bed. This was a dream, a terrible nightmare, and those white bandages they kept you wrapped in were like the clouds. This wasn’t real. You would wake up soon. You had to. You and mom were supposed to bake and watch movies together. Dad was supposed to drop you off at the dance and give you and your boyfriend a hard time. _

_ One day, a nurse came into your room. She gave you a tablet wrapped inside a plastic bag and helped you open up a program in your drug addled state. You drifted as you watched the funeral play on screen and stared at your parents pictures as they leaned against the urns. It was a really bad tv show, you told yourself as the camera shook. Just a tv show, even though a part of you recognized the men from your father’s station and some of the kids you had met through your mom’s work. Why would the nurse, crying behind her plastic mask, want you to watch this? It wasn’t real.  _

_ After a few months they started to wean you off the morphine so that you wouldn’t develop a lifelong dependency.  _

_ You grew angry at the doctors, snapping at them as they tried to take care of you and demanded more of the drug that made you feel like you weren’t part of this world. You threw a huge tantrum and tried to leave the ward despite the tubes chaining you to the bed, despite the pain you felt and the open wounds still all over your body, when you found out they were keeping your dad’s jacket and they wouldn’t let you have it. At some point a nurse brought it in, but it had to stay inside a clear plastic bag and you weren’t allowed to touch it. You spent many hours staring at it, hung on the wall across from your bed, seething. _

_ The doctors told you that you wouldn’t be able to attend your final year of high school until after you had healed. You were angry at that, too. Mom and Dad wanted you to graduate, to go to college. You promised them that you would. How could you do that if you were stuck in this FUCKING ROOM!? _

_ When the first day of your senior year rolled around, the doctors finally allowed a visit. They made sure you understood that contact wasn’t allowed, but you could still see someone as long as they stayed on the other side of the plastic walls. _

_ Your boyfriend came to your ward. You were so hopeful for contact, for love, for something other than the pain that still kept you up at night and the nightmares of the fire that visited you even when you were awake. But he thought you were disgusting. He couldn’t stand the look of the charred, red flesh still covering you, or the yellow pus and white plasma that oozed from your ruined skin as it tried to heal. He ran from you, and you never saw him again. His rejection of you, when you had needed comfort more than anything, nearly broke you. _

_ You had hoped for a while that one of the boys might visit you, one of dad’s workmates. But none of them ever did. Nor did you get a visit from any of the kids your mom had worked with. The world had forgotten you, you felt like. You were just a broken toy, left under the bed, while everyone else moved on. You stopped eating and the doctors had to feed you through an IV drip. _

_ The nurses had taken it upon themselves to find you a therapist. He visited you twice a week, but you had nothing to say to him no matter how much he pressed you to open up about your trauma. Eventually he convinced the doctors to let you have school books to work on your high school diploma. You overheard him arguing his point, saying that it would give you something to do, a goal to keep you from losing yourself to depression. _

_ With school work to distract you from your grief, your pain and loneliness, you finally seemed to be doing better. As you absorbed yourself in your studies you found time passed much more quickly. Soon, your bandages didn’t need to be changed as often. The doctors told you that, aside from the areas that suffered the third degree burns, your skin might go back to normal. There was even hope that your hair would grow back. _

_ If you were diligent in your studies, the nurses fought to bring you outside. Now that you were past the most critical, and dangerous, point of your recovery, you wanted to have fresh air. This did not last long. The doctors and nurses in the hospital might not have said anything about your appearance, but you heard the hissed whispers of the people outside. Even the other hospital residence found you disgusting. You stopped asking to go outside and instead focused on your assignments. Sometimes, you would stare out the window and watch the birds. _

_ Some part of you thought that, if you studied hard enough, all of this would be reversed. Your parents would never miss your graduation. They promised. They never broke their promises. Neither did you. _

_ When a year and a half had passed, the doctors finally released you. You had finally opened up to your therapist, just once, in the hopes that he would help you heal, but it never went much further after that. The therapist deemed your mental health to be good enough to function on your own, as long as you kept goals for yourself.  _

_ Your parent’s life insurance had run out. You had no more money, and your treatment was as good as it was going to get. The skin that had suffered third degree burns would be scarred the rest of your life, but there was some hope. Your belly and chest were mostly normal, as were most of your arms and your face. Your hair had started to grow back!  _

_ You received your high school diploma, but your parents didn’t show. That’s okay, you thought to yourself, an online degree was not a big enough ceremony for them to attend. You needed something bigger. So you applied for college to become a pastry chef. If mom didn’t show up when you accomplished that… well, you would. And she would come. _

_ Before you left the hospital to go to college, one of the nurses gave you a gift card. She wanted you to buy something for yourself and to take care of yourself. She gave you your dad’s jacket, now your jacket, and gave you a big hug as you left. You went to a store, followed by whispers about your appearance, and bought clothes that would cover your body. If no one could see you, no one would be disgusted by you. _

“I’ve hidden them ever since,” you said softly, pulling your fingers from Butch. You refused to look up and see the expressions on Mutt and Butch’s skulls. “They’re all over my legs and lower back, and… and they cross up my shoulder and right arm where I was pinned by the beam. They’re not… they’re pretty disgusting. But… I want you… t-to see them.”

Your hands shook as you reached for the cream sheets and slowly pulled them off your feet. The fabric was off of your ankles, away from your shins and up to your knees when your hands started shaking so much that you couldn’t move them any more. You stared at your scars, at the rippling skin, still angry and red like the fire.

Bony hands reached out and stopped you from showing more. Mutt and Butch had taken one of your hands, each, and when you looked up you saw they were looking at you and not your scars.

“Holy shit, Robin…” Mutt’s raspy voice cracked and his red eye lights were searching your face. “No wonder you can’t stand the smell of smoke. That’s… How are you not dust after all that?”

Butch wiped the grey plasma off his face and jumped on you, pulling you into a rib-crushing hug. Something in you finally broke and you buried your face in his red, threadbare hoodie. You sobbed into it, not caring how loud you were, or how wet the fabric was getting from your tears. 

Mutt crawled forward on the bed and took both of you and Butch into his lap. One arm pulled the two of you close, his other hand drifted up and he ran his fingers through your hair.

“You okay, Robin?” Mutt asked quietly after your sobs finally died away. You nodded against Butch’s shoulder and Mutt squeezed the both of you tighter.

“did you really… go seven… years without… telling anyone?” Butch whispered in your ear. 

“Aside from my therapist… yeah.” You sniffed and pulled away from the two brothers to wipe the tears and snot from your face. “Every time I tried to make friends, or open up to others, they just… freaked out and ghosted. So I stopped trying. I know that most people are afraid of what’s different and… I’m very different.”

“Yeah, you are.” Mutt pulled you, and with you, Butch; back into him. Mutt’s hands snaked around your waist, and he kissed the top of your head affectionately. “But in the best way.”

“you… are not… your past.” Butch wrapped his arms around your shoulders and nuzzled your neck. “you’re not… fire… or smoke… or pain... you’re Kindness. we’re not… afraid of you…”

“Yeah, and we’re not planning on eh, ‘ghosting’ you, as you put it.” Mutt leaned back and let Butch pull you into another hug. “So you better not plan on going anywhere, either.”

You could feel your eyes burning again. “You’re… you’re not…?”

“You don’t have to be scared.” Mutt whispered as he buried his face in your hair, his hand resting on your chest where your soul sat. “I still want you here. This is your home, too.”

“ _ we  _ want you here…” Butch corrected him quietly from your neck, his cheekbones flushed with grey. “always…”

It started small. A smirk, a little chuckle among your sobs, and then you were laughing. Laughing as tears of relief streamed down your face and you held both of them tighter while a weight you didn’t know you had been carrying finally lifted.

It really did feel like something poisonous was leaving your soul.

You laughed and kissing their skulls, dotting their cheekbones with your tears. You would never let these guys go, never. “Th-thank you… thank you for listening to me… It means so much…”

Butch squeezed you again and you squeezed back, thankful beyond words that he and Mutt could still stand to be in the same room with you; that they wanted you here, in their home.  _ Your _ home.

“Can I... touch them?” Mutt asked hesitantly, his red lights studying your exposed legs curiously. Your face turned red with embarrassment, but you nodded. He reached out and took one of your shins in his hands and brought it closer to his skull to examine. You slid down in his lap from the movement, and Butch glanced at you for permission, too. With your nod, Butch reached out and ran his fingers over your other knee.

“i think.... they’re pretty…” Butch said softly as he traced a ripple with his finger.

“He’s right, you know.” Mutt said to the surprised look on your face while he ran his hand over your shin. Your face burned from their attention. “I don’t know why you called them disgusting, Robin. They’re beautiful.”

“How do you figure?” You asked, wiping tears of gratitude from your hot face. They really thought your scars were pretty? You scooted back on the bed and tried to take your legs back, to see them for yourself. You wanted to see them differently, like they were seeing them, but the brothers held on, curiously tracing the chaotic patterns the flames had left with gentle touches.

“they’re like… someone painted… roses on you…”

“You should be proud of these, Robin, they’re impressive.” Mutt whispered in awe as he softly ran his fingers over the waves the scars made. “...most monsters would have died from what you went through. Fire is some of the most powerful, untameable stuff there is. Only the Queens have ever wielded it effectively, and they’re scared of it, too. Even fire monsters can’t control their element that well; just the stuff that makes up their bodies. Your dad definitely had a very Brave soul to run back into that.”

“scars… also show.... you’re a survivor.” Butch said thoughtfully, nodding in agreement, and gave you back your leg. “it shows… other monsters… you’re powerful. that you can’t... be dusted so easily. like Axe… no one… picks a fight… with him...”

“I remember Axe telling me something like that.” You took your leg back from Mutt and sat up to face Butch. “He said that scars could be useful. Is that what he meant?”

“For monsters, the more scars you have,” Mutt laid back on the bed, supporting himself with his arm, “means the tougher you are to kill. If you really have them all over you, Robin, you have no idea how intimidating you could be to a monster that doesn’t know you. No one would pick a fight with you! They’d be too scared.”

“I don’t want anyone to be scared of me!” You said indignantly and clutched at your legs. 

“No, Robin, I didn’t mean it like that,” Mutt said quickly, noticing your movement. Butch glared at him. “All I meant is that scars like those demand respect among monsters. You could waltz up to Undying, the most badass monster on the guard next to Edge, and not even  _ she _ would have the guts to mess with you. It’s a compliment!”

“it doesn’t matter… to those… who know you.” Butch smiled his crooked smile and gently touched your bare knee. “you’re not… scared of Axe… right?”

“Not at all!” You must have looked offended by the question because Butch gave you a lopsided smile while his white eye lights glowed at you. Seeing that expression made you smile, and you directed your attention away towards the circular window before you let that smile fall.

You hadn’t forgotten that promise you and Butch had made to each other, but you had never expected to be the one to go first. Did you put too much on his shoulders, by telling him what you went through? Were either of them okay after hearing what had happened to you?

“You sure you’re okay, Robin?” Mutt’s hand rested on your thigh and his thumb ran idly over your exposed scars, bringing you back into the conversation. “That was… I could tell that took a lot out of you. Do you want me to get you something?”

You smiled again and shook your head, touched. “Thanks Mutt, but I’m okay. I’m just a little tired.”

Mutt nodded, but his red eye lights were narrowed suspiciously at you. “Alright, but I’m staying up here tonight. You shouldn’t be alone.”

“can… I stay?” Butch asked quietly, a grey blush crossing his cheekbones as Mutt pulled the sheets away and sent you rolling back onto the bed into your pillows.

You sat back up and looked between the two brothers as they took places on the edges of your bed, feeling surprised and hesitant. You had just told them everything, just showed them your scars, and they wanted to stay the night? You had been sure they would want to leave after, to process what you told them if nothing else. “You… can both stay, but… are you sure you’re alright with what I told you? It’s not too… It’s not… a burden?”

Mutt rolled his red eye lights and pulled you down between him and Butch. The lights flicked off and the smell of clove drifted on the air as Mutt cuddled up to your side, his arm snaking over your belly while Butch scooted slightly closer and pulled the blankets over the three of you.

You could just make out Butch’s lopsided smile next to you. “I’m glad you… finally could tell someone… tell us... about what happened. we care about you.... Lily. if you… want us here… we’ll stay.”

“You’re not a burden, no matter what.” Mutt squeezed your waist, his red eye lights bright in the dark. “So don’t ever think that again.”

You laid in the dark, staring at the snowstorm outside the window, with Mutt and Butch on either of your sides. Their bodies were warm and close, and you could feel affection for them swelling up in your soul. It had been such a huge relief, that they had taken your story so well. They didn’t try to pity you, or act like you were something fragile. They didn’t think your scars were gross, they didn’t act repulsed.

They just accepted it; accepted you, and comforted you. They told you that your scars looked like painted roses. That those marks were something to be proud of, something that showed you were a survivor. They wanted you to stay with them and in turn, they wanted to stay with you.

Sans was right, you felt a million times better after getting that story out.

“...Lily?”

“Hm?” You turned your head towards Butch as he whispered in the dark.

“is that why… you’re so good… at baking?” Butch asked, his white eye lights dancing as he looked at you. “you’re… going to college… for it?”

“No,” you shook your head, then shrugged. “Well, kind of. My mom taught me most of what I know, but college helped. I only took one year so there wasn’t a lot of new stuff that they taught me, but it helped.”

“but aren’t you… still in school?”

“Yeah, but not to become a pastry chef,” you squirmed a little, embarrassed by what you were about to admit. “I thought… when I had just gotten out of the hospital… I thought that trying to become a pastry chef would bring mom back. When I finally accepted that she was gone, I couldn’t keep it as my major. It just made me sad.”

“why…?”

“Baking is special to me,” you sighed and stared at the ceiling. “It was something mom and I did together, and we shared what we made with people we loved. I couldn’t keep studying to become a baker because it hurt to watch what I made disappear beyond a set of doors. I never saw the people that ate what I made. I never got to find out what their favorite flavors were, or… or see their smiles… So I decided to stop. If I was going to bake, and keep my mom’s memory alive that way, I was going to do it for people I cared about, and only for them.”

Butch’s hand searched under the covers until he found your hand. He gave a squeeze as he said quietly, “you… care about us… a lot, don’t you? I feel like… you’re… always baking…”

“Yeah, I really do.” You smiled and intertwined your fingers with Butch’s. “I’m pretty invested in you guys.”

Butch was quiet for a long moment, then his voice was so soft you had to strain to hear, “...I… haven’t forgotten… our promise. I… want to tell you… but… can we… tomorrow? you’ve been through… enough… tonight.”

“Of course.” You squeezed Butch’s hand, knowing what he meant. If he needed time after everything you told him, before he was ready to tell you his story, that was fine. “I understand. ...thank you. Both of you. For everything.”

Butch took your hand and held it to his chest as he closed his eye sockets, shutting his white lights away. Mutt squeezed your waist and curled up against you, his red eye lights flickering dimly in the darkness.

~~~

The room was still dark when you opened your eyes again. You blinked away your dream as you stared at the ceiling. It seemed like the usual one, the one where you dreamed of red and orange and yellow, but this one ended differently. This time, instead of feeling the echoes of heat, you had felt a pair of skeletal hands. They had big holes in the palms and eight fingers on each hand, and they had reached out to pluck you from the angry colors before setting you in cool, blue water.

Slowly, the events of last night came back to you. The recollection of your past, the acceptance and comfort from Butch and Mutt. You were still wearing your leather jacket and your legs were still bare beneath the sheets. A kind of peace filled you, knowing that you could be almost bare while the two brothers laid on either side of you, knowing that they hadn’t pulled away when you showed them your shame. Their words came back. You should be proud; they were beautiful.

Today was going to be a good day.

Your eyes turned towards the circular window. The sky was still dark, but even if there was any light it would have struggled to penetrate the mound of snow growing on the windowsill. You could see the frozen flakes swirling around the foggy glass. You needed to get to your phone back and check the weather. That, and you should probably try to shovel the drive later. If there was a storm, you didn’t want to have a mountain of snow to battle against at the end of it.

“Mornin’, Robin.”

You looked to the pillows next to you and saw Mutt’s hazy, red eye lights staring at you. He had a strange grin on his skull that you couldn’t quite read.

“Morning, Mutt.” You whispered, glancing to your other side to see that Butch was still sleeping. “Why are you up this early?”

“I couldn’t sleep.” Mutt’s raspy voice whispered back to you. He yawned widely, his pointed teeth inches from your face, and rolled onto his back. “I… couldn’t stop thinking.”

“About…?” You felt a small bit of fear start to rise up in your gut and fight that sense of peace you were feeling. If he had been thinking about things all night, had he decided that he didn’t want to be close to you anymore? Had you said too much, showed too much, and scared him away?

“No need for that,” Mutt smirked and gently tapped your chest. “I was thinking about… us.”

That only made your fear worse.

Mutt inched closer, until there was no space between your bodies and his teeth were next to your ear. In the softest of voices he breathed, “You remember that I told you that I loved you, right? You said you wanted me to wait to say it until after you had showed me your scars… but I meant it. I still do. You’re the kindest soul I’ve ever met, and that’s even more impressive after everything you’ve been though. I honestly don’t know how you do it...”

You pulled away slightly, both relieved and confused. “Thank you, Mutt. But… I wasn’t always kind. When I was in the hospital, I was… kind of a terrible person. I was angry and bitter and vindictive. If my parents hadn’t taught me to be who I am-”

“I know who you are, Robin.” Mutt gently trailed his fingers up the leather of your jacket. “You just bared your soul to me. And after what you went through, you should have been angry. But you didn’t stay that way. You turned back into the kind, selfless person lying here, and I want to protect that. I mean, I’ve wanted to for awhile, but only if you want me to.”

You could feel the heat from his skull as he flushed. Even though you had just woken up, you could feel the direction this conversation was starting to take.

Mutt whispered so you could just barely hear, “I… I know this isn’t how it normally goes but… but I wanted to ask if-if I could have your mark?” The burnt orange color deepened. 

Holy shit, was he trying to make you guys official?

“My what now?” You blinked a few times, turning pink, and tried to recall what you knew, to understand what he was asking of you. “I thought… you would already have that? With uh… what we did?”

“You have mine,” Mutt shook his head, “But I don’t have yours.”

“Wait, what are you asking for, then?” you tried to sit up, but Mutt’s arm held you down. He hushed you and nodded his head at the still sleeping Butch. You lowered your voice. “Are you trying to ask me if you can be my boyfriend?”

“One of them, yeah.” Mutt nodded.

“One of them?!” You bolted up in bed and Mutt pressed a hand to your mouth, pointing at Butch as he rolled over in his sleep. 

“You know how relationships work for my kind, right?” Mutt asked, his fuzzy red lights searching your face. You shook your head, turning red. Holy shit, he really  _ was _ trying to make it official. “So in our world, we have multiple partners. Females find a group of males and create a harem by-”

You pulled Mutt’s hand from your mouth, hissing, “Hold on just a second! I’m a human, and we usually only have one at a time!”

“Really?” Mutt raised a bony brow at you, his voice full of skepticism, “that seems kind of backwards. How do you get everything you need from just one mate?”

“What makes you need more than one?!”

“I’ll explain that, if you let me tell you, but don’t wake him up!” he hissed, trying to keep you quiet. Butch rolled over at the noise, but he buried his face in your pillow and slept on. “Female monsters have multiple mates for a reason. It’s not just because the gender ratio in the underground is off balance; they need them. The Underground isn’t like the surface. Multiple males means protection when they’re vulnerable. It takes a ton of magic to make and raise a new monster, and the kid needs protection, too. It’s not so different for you. You can’t use magic, true, but you need other things besides a bunch of muscle at your side. Your soul is far more powerful and vast than any monsters’ and it needs things that I can’t give you by myself..”

“You don’t… think you’re good for me?” You raised an eyebrow at him, very confused.

“Not by myself.” Mutt sighed. The arm that he was using to keep you still came up and he ran his bony knuckles across your cheek.

“Why do you think that?”

“Well,” Mutt looked away, bashful, and mumbled, “I’d like to think that I can take care of you and protect you; that I can give you all the answers and comfort you when you need me. But… I can’t. Last night wasn’t like when we first met and you smelled Red’s magic. When you were telling us about the fire and you… went back to that place…”

“I’m sorry,” you hung your head in shame. “I know that was a big thing to put on you, I didn’t want it-”

“Don’t you dare say you’re a burden, because you’re not.” Mutt snapped. You brought your head back up to look at him and he reached out to hold your hand in his while he said, “I’ve heard so many songs from your soul, Robin, that I’ve known how to handle. The keening of depression, the shriek of fear, the hiss of anger. But last night… that wail of agony… I had no idea what to do. It was like your soul was trying to tear itself apart. I  _ wanted _ to do something, to hold you and put it back together, but I didn’t know how. I never, ever want to hear that sound again. It was the most soul shattering thing I’ve ever heard, and I’ll do everything I can to prevent it but... but I've lived a pretty sheltered life. I can tell you anything about the Underground, but I didn't know how to comfort you then. Butch was the one who knew how to bring you back. You need, you  _ deserve _ , someone like that, too.”

“I don’t blame you for not knowing what to do. Disassociation isn’t easy to deal with at the best of times. Butch just… he gets it, too. We both do, so we can help each other.” You held your head in your free hand to keep it from spinning. “So what’re you asking of me…?”

“I’m asking you if you’ll let me be the first.” Mutt reached up and took your hand from your head so that he could run his fingers through your hair. “I know you just said that humans have only one mate, but I think you deserve more than that. You’re so selfless. If I can’t give you everything, then I really think you should try our way and take as many mates as you need to be happy.”

“I don’t understand,” you whispered. This was too much to take in this early. “So you… do want to be with me?”

“I really,  _ really _ want to be with you, Robin.” Mutt whispered back, pulling you closer to him and kissing the top of your head. “I thought everything I've said and done so far had made that clear?”

“Can you… explain how it works?” You asked, hoping that some kind of explanation would get rid of the light headed sensation you were currently experiencing. Mutt grinned, his golden fang flashing in the early morning light.

“In the Underground, females are the only ones that take multiple mates, not males, for the reasons I’ve already told you. They’re the alphas in the relationship. As the alpha, you get to call all the shots. The female gets to choose who gets added and who doesn’t, so there’s no pressure on you to bring in more than you feel comfortable. You can have me, if you want me, and anyone else who you feel is right for you. 

First step is the male’s marking. They do it to show interest in the female and partial dedication. They’re willing to join you and protect you if they do that. Then there’s claiming, which the female allows if she’s interested back, which keeps other females from going after what’s hers. Finally, there’s the female’s mark.”

“Wait, you’re asking me to… to make a  _ harem _ with you?” You hissed, startled, your face a brilliant shade of sunrise red as the weight of what Mutt was saying finally hit you.

“Shh!” Mutt glanced at his sleeping brother and continued in a hushed tone, “I’m asking you to consider it. You’re the one that gets to make that choice. I’m already going out of the normal way of things by… by asking to be a part of it. I know there are things I can do for you, but there are things that I can’t. You shouldn’t miss out on anything you need because of some weird human hangup on being with one mate. I want you to have it all.”

“I  _ am _ human!”

“Yeah,” Mutt smirked, “but you’re the only human I know of that has claimed a monster. Why not try our way of doing things?”

“Why not try  _ our _ way?” You shot back.

Mutt slowly scratched the side of his skull in consideration. “That… would be nice… but I don’t think it would work. I know myself too well. What I mean by that is, I want to be a part of your life. For as long as you’ll have me. I wanted to ask you yesterday if I could be with you, after you claimed me, but it was clear to me that you wanted to wait until you told me your story. I'm glad I did because it made me realize that I don’t know how to handle everything. I couldn't make you happy on my own like you deserve. You bared your soul to me last night, Robin. I don’t think I could be so selfish as to try and keep you all to myself if doing so would eventually make you unhappy.”

You stared at Mutt, dumbfounded. If you hadn’t been made aware that monsters were polyamorous beforehand, you would be freaking the  _ fuck _ out. More so than you had already done. “I’ve… never done anything, or  _ considered _ anything like that before. I’d have so many questions...”

“Then you can ask me!” Mutt smiled eagerly and squeezed your hand. “Anytime, about anything.”

You looked at your hand in his, wondering. It was true you cared a lot about him, but you also cared a lot about his other brothers. Maybe not near the same level, they were all different levels at this point, and you were curious about how something like that would ever work. Was it okay to be selfish and want more? “Wouldn’t you… get jealous?”

Mutt’s nasal ridge flushed with burnt orange and he looked away sheepishly. “Yeah, I might. But… I know you wouldn’t do anything to make me feel that intentionally, right? You’re not that kind of person.”

“You  _ would _ have most of the firsts,” you nodded, considering everything he had told you while you spoke. “First to help me when I was scared, first to know about my fear of fire, first to… to glimpse my scars.”

“First to get claimed, first to be added...” Mutt smirked back and pulled you into him, burying his face in your neck. “Yeah, I’ll be fine if I remember all of that.”

“I haven’t agreed to do this, yet!” You hissed, reminding him that you were still trying to decide, even though you let him hold you.

Mutt nuzzled the soft spot on your neck, bringing a flush to your cheeks. “No, you haven’t. I still haven’t gotten your mark.”

“What’s the female’s mark?” You pushed Mutt’s hands off of you to stop them from wandering. He rewarded those efforts with a small nip at your neck. “It’s not just a scent thing, like with the males?”

“It’s a bite.” Mutt growled gently to your skin. “It’s a lasting mark that doesn’t wear away, like scent does, so even if a male leaves for a while it’s still obvious that he’s taken.”

“So it’s permanent?” You leaned your head back and studied Mutt’s neck, at the vertebrae between his skull and collarbone visible just over his orange turtleneck. “That’s a… pretty big step, don’t you think?”

“It’s not permanent.” Mutt let his thumb rub a spot on your thigh, which were still bare from last night. “It’s not like it’s a huge wound; it’s shallow. It’ll go away over time, but that also means it needs to be redone every so often.”

“What if,” you said slowly, trying to choose your words right, “what if I’m not ready for... claiming?”

“You can take your time, Robin.” Mutt reassured you. “You’d be the alpha in this, and make all the calls, remember? You mark who you want, and if you don’t want them, you don’t remark. Simple.”

“I don’t know…” You picked at your sweater dress, thinking everything over very carefully. “Do you really think I could handle something like that? I’m worried that if I tried, I’d mess up and hurt someone.”

Mutt hummed thoughtfully and took his hand from your thigh. As he ran his fingers through your hair, he whispered, “You already do an amazing job taking care of me and all of my brothers, even without this on top of it. You make time for everyone, you take care of all of us, and you never let any of us feel hurt. You go out of your way to make sure of that.”

“You think so?”

“I know so, I stayed up all night thinking about it. And you and I both know that sleeping is my second favorite pastime.”

You looked over Mutt’s shoulder at the circular window, at the thick snow falling outside. He held you quietly, patiently, understanding that it was a lot to think about and a big choice to make.

You knew that you cared for everyone in this house to a certain extent, and that they cared for you. Axe had already tried to mark you and the brother’s sense of smell had given his interest away to everyone, and Sans had been so understanding about how you felt about Mutt… Then there were the nicknames that everyone was giving you. Surely, that was a sign that they liked you? Maybe, if you did this the monster way, you could return their affections without you hurting anyone’s feelings?

“I can take my time?” you asked quietly. Mutt nodded. “I’m not… forcing anything?”

“If they’re interested in you, you’ll know.” Mutt chuckled softly and then nodded at Butch. “Except for that idiot. If you want him, you’ll have to make the first move. He’s too damn shy for his own good. But it’s obvious he likes you. I’ve never seen him talk to anyone as much as you, except for Axe.”

“Then if I mark… does it have to be on the neck?” You asked, eyeing Mutt’s vertebrae. Those looked like they might hurt if your teeth slipped and the bone caught your gums.

“It’s preferable, but not required.” Mutt shrugged, his red eye lights shining at you. “Does that mean you’ll do it?”

“Only if we can call it something else.” You mumbled shyly. “I don’t like the sound of ‘harem’. It makes me feel weird.”

“What do you want to call it, then?”

You stared at the sheets; out the window, at the barely visible forest beyond the dark and snow. “How about… a pack? Like a wolf pack. Our pack. Since you’re calling me alpha and all that...”

“Fine with me.” Mutt pressed his teeth to your cheek in a kiss, then asked eagerly, “So, where do you wanna put it? Your mark?”

“What, now?”

Mutt nodded, so obviously excited that you couldn’t help but smile and shake your head at him. You carefully took his skull in your hands and turned it side to side, examining his jawline. His red eye lights danced while they watched you. Nowhere seemed suitable; he didn’t have the same fleshy contours you took for granted, so you slipped a finger into the collar of his orange turtleneck and pulled it away while you studied his neck vertebrae, following them down to his collarbone… That might be a good spot. Easy to access, nothing to hurt yourself on, and close to the neck like Mutt said was usual. You pulled at the collar of his shirt, trying to see if you could get a good angle, and found one just before the part that dips at the top of the ribcage.

“You’re sure?” You asked again, looking up at him for confirmation. He nodded, an excited smile spread across his skull along with a slight flush. You leaned in, took his collar bone in your teeth, and bit down.

“You can’t be that gentle, Robin.” Mutt chuckled as you pulled away. “It’s a  _ mark _ . It’s gotta stick.”

“I don’t want to hurt you.”

“Trust me, you won’t.”

You raised an eyebrow at him and went in again. Finding the same spot, you tried your best to nestle the slim bone between your canines and then bit down, hard, like you were trying to bite through a crab’s claw. Mutt’s hands flew up and grabbed your sides, squeezing you as he hissed through his teeth.

“I’m sorry! I didn’t want it to hurt, I’m sorry!” You said quickly, pulling away as you apologized. 

One look at Mutt told you that he definitely didn’t mind. An orange flush filled out his nasal ridge, his breath came in heavy pants, and his red eye lights were hazy with lust.

“No.” You said quickly as his hands started to pull you in. “Not now, Mutt, not with Butch literally sleeping right next to us.”

Mutt glared at his sleeping brother. Disappointed, he whined, “You’re a tease, Robin.”

“ _ You _ told me to do it now!” You growled right back, “So  _ suffer _ .”

Grumbling, but with a smirk on his face, Mutt fell back onto the bed and buried his face in the cream colored sheets. “You’ll make a good alpha, Robin. You’re already acting the part.”

You scowled, your cheeks bright red, and crawled out of the bed to find a pair of stockings. What did he mean you were acting the part? You just didn’t want to let him fool around with you while Butch was in the room! If Mutt was going to be that bold from now on, you had better watch yourself…

As you shimmied into the black material from yesterday, you realized that all of your other clothes were still downstairs. You looked over your shoulder, thinking to ask Mutt if he would mind if you went into his room, but found that he was already back asleep. You smiled. Let him sleep; he had already been up all night.

Your smile stretched across your face as you watched the two brothers sleep in your bed. You felt your heart swell with affection. They had been so good to you yesterday. They always were. There was a growing list of things you had to do today, but you really wanted to do something to show how much you appreciate them. You draped your leather jacket over your pile of books and made your way to the other side of the bed. 

“Butch?” You whispered, gently shaking his shoulder. He rolled over and opened his sockets part way, his white eye lights fuzzy with sleep. “Hey, sleepyhead. Sorry to wake you. I was thinking of making cinnamon rolls. Would you like it if I brought some up for you?”

Butch gave you a half awake, lopsided smile. He reached out to you, pulled your face into his, and gently pressed his broken teeth to your lips. Still smiling, he buried his face back into your pillow and fell back asleep. Your cheeks turned pink from his bold move and you wondered if he would remember it later when he woke up fully.

Maybe this alpha thing really was a good idea. Nobody had to get hurt and, the best part, you didn’t have to feel rushed.

You hummed all the way down the narrow steps. You felt strangely light today; as if nothing would be able to bother you. Getting that story off your chest and knowing that there were people who still cared for you, still loved you, after the fact made you feel as though you could take on the world.

As you passed Red’s door, you wondered if you should knock, but decided against that. You had no idea what time it was or how late he usually slept. You knew it was early, it was still dark, your internal clock always woke you up before eight, but Red was never in the best of moods at any time of day. It would be stupid to wake him up and demand your phone back right now.

You flicked on the lights of the kitchen, wondering if bringing Red breakfast would be enough to make up for waking him up early. With a glance at the analog clock on the stove, you knew that not even a mountain of cinnamon rolls could placate Red if you woke him up at four in the morning.

That wouldn’t be a huge issue, you would just have to wait. While you mixed and kneaded the dough, you mentally planned out your day. You needed to shovel and would need to make another grocery run soon if you kept trying to bake for nine. You glanced out of the window above the sink, at the snow falling thick through the trees. Perhaps a store visit would be a good idea, anyway. If this kept up they might shut the bus lines down. You wouldn’t be able to get to school tomorrow if that happened. Perhaps you should email your professors, just in case? But of course, that would have to wait until you got your phone back.

Of course, all of this had to be flexible. You didn’t know when Butch would want to talk to you, to tell you his story, but you were determined to make him priority.

You retrieved your laundry and folded it while you waited for the dough to rise. When you returned from dropping your duffel bag off in your room, a book in hand, the two trays of rolls you had prepared were ready to pop in the oven. Making a mental note of the time, you sat at the kitchen table and started your book. Those extra readings had to get done at some point.

The smell of cinnamon permeated the kitchen and floated down the entrance hall while you slowly thumbed through the crisp, new pages. The ceiling above you creaked and you paused, tilting your head, trying to mentally match the clomping steps above with your memory of short, clipped strides. There was only one brother you knew of that woke up early. Whoever was awake, it wasn’t Milord. You waited at the kitchen table with the book held suspended in your hands, but nobody came through the archway.

You checked the clock again and set your book down. The rolls gave off heavenly plumes of cinnamon scented steam as you removed them from the oven. Your stomach growled and you were very tempted to eat one right now, but you needed to make the icing still. They would be cool enough to eat once you had finished the icing, and that thought kept you from pulling a steaming roll from the tray to devour ravenously.

A tall shadow fell over you as you vigorously stirred the sugar and milk into a thick paste. “Oh, good morning Pap!” You said to the shadow and turned around. “I didn’t know you got up… this early…”

Your voice fell away and your stirring hand stilled as you looked up. Edge towered over you, a glower on his skull. His red eye lights stared holes through you and his hands were clasped behind his back.

“PROWLING THIS EARLY, PET?” His voice was sharp as he bent slightly to stare you down. You could see his ribs ripple the fabric of his black turtleneck. The red scarf he wore drifted dangerously close to the bowl of icing in your hand. You took a step back to stop a tragedy from happening.

“I’m… I’m sorry if I woke you,” you said timidly and tightened your grip on the bowl of icing. You didn’t want to imagine what would happen if you dropped it and got icing all over Edge’s black jeans or his red leather boots.

“UNFORTUNATELY FOR YOU, I DO NOT SLEEP AT NIGHT.” Edge sneered and straightened back up to step towards you. “BESIDES, I HAVE BEEN MEANING TO SPEAK WITH YOU.”  
“M-me?” You almost jumped in surprise and set the bowl of icing back on the marble counter next to the stove at your back. “What for?”

“TO MAKE SOME THINGS VERY CLEAR.” Edge rolled his red eye lights at you as if you had just asked a stupid question. “IT HAS BECOME QUITE OBVIOUS THAT YOU ARE GROWING CLOSE WITH MY BROTHERS. I DON’T CARE, THEY CAN HAVE THEIR PLAYTHING.”

“I’m not-!” you started, but Edge took another step into your personal space. You tried to back up, but there was nowhere else to go. 

“I HAVE ALLOWED YOU TO STAY BECAUSE THEY WANT YOU HERE.” Edge growled, leaning forward again. You noticed every point of his sharp teeth as he smirked at your panic from being cornered. Your back was against the oven and it’s heat quickly warmed your clothes. “BUT I WILL WARN YOU JUST THIS ONCE. IF YOU TRY TO HURT THEM, IN ANY WAY, I WILL PERSONALLY TEAR YOUR SOUL FROM YOUR CHEST AND CRUSH IT IN MY HANDS.”

“How dare you!” You barked back, staring defiantly into those red lights. The heat from the oven made you think of the fire, but with those thoughts came the memory of comfort and acceptance from Mutt and Butch. The feeling of love you had for them bolstered your confidence. “I care about your brothers, Edge. I would never try to hurt them!”

“DON’T LIE TO ME!” Edge hissed and slammed his hand against the wall behind you. The action failed to intimidate you and he scowled, “I KNOW YOUR KIND! HUMANS MAY LOOK CUTE AND HARMLESS, BUT YOU ARE THE MOST VICIOUS CREATURES I’VE EVER COME ACROSS!”

“I’m not vicious!” You glared at Edge. “How could you think that?”

“BECAUSE YOU’RE WEAK! YOU WILL USE UNDERHANDED TACTICS TO GAIN LOVE, AND THEN-”

“I would not!” You boldly stepped forward and Edge took a step back, his eye lights wide with surprise. “I would never trick your brothers into caring for me! I genuinely care for them, and you standing here and threatening me is not going to stop me from trying to spend time with them, or trying to make them happy, or-”

“YOU OBVIOUSLY MISS THE SUBTLETIES OF LANGUAGE!” Edge snapped, the volume of his already loud voice rising. “SAY WHAT YOU WANT, HUMAN, IF YOU THINK YOU CAN KILL MY BROTHERS-”

“Listen to me, then!” You shouted back, your hand coming up to press against your chest. “I know you can tell if I’m lying! I would never kill your brothers, I love them! I would die before I would even think of doing something so horrible!”

Edge snarled, the hint of a black flush appearing across his nasal ridge, and his hands tightened into fists as they leaked black plasma. The red leather of his gloves creaked in protest from the pressure. The smell of gasoline mingled with the scent of cinnamon.

“calm th’ fuck down, Edge.” Red’s gravelly voice snapped both yours and Edge’s attention to the archway where Red leaned. “she ain’t like the first one yeh knew. calm yer coccyx.”

“DON’T BE AN IDIOT, RED!” Edge turned to vent his rage on his brother. “YOU KNOW AS WELL AS I WHAT IT’S CAPABLE OF!”

“she ain’t like that, I tell ya!” Red snarled, matching his brother’s vicious energy. Crimson plasma gathered in Red’s clenched hands and you covered your nose against the onslaught of scents in the kitchen. “ya know she ain’t lyin’. she had a chance to dust me before, an’ she didn’! so leave her th’ fuck alone!”

“YOU’RE A FOOL!” Edge stormed from the kitchen, taking the smell of gasoline with him.

“yeh say that ten times a day, think a somethin’ new fer once!” Red snapped after him.

You stayed against the counter, frozen, still thinking that Red and Edge might start some kind of physical fight even though Edge was already gone. It wasn’t until Red had taken a deep breath and dropped his aggressive stance that you finally felt your own tension start to leave your limbs.

“yeh okay?” Red asked, turning to face you. His scowl was gone and his face was set into a more neutral look.

You nodded and slowly lowered your hands from your face. “Thanks… thanks for coming, Red. I hope we didn’t wake the rest of the house...”

“nah, my bros will sleep through most anything.” Red shrugged and came over to the counter to inspect what you were making.

“But, we woke you, didn’t we?”

Red shook his head. “I slept fer shit. my room’s right under yers.” He turned from the tray of cinnamon rolls, his crimson lights soft with concern as he looked at you. “yeh doin’ okay, Dollface?”

Your eyes widened with understanding. Maybe he didn’t hear what you were telling Butch and Mutt, but he must’ve heard your soul from his room and the noises it must’ve made when you relived that day. Even Mutt said that its wail of grief was the most terrible noise he had ever heard.

“I’m fine, Red.” You smiled sadly, feeling guilty. “I didn’t want you to hear that…”

“my bros didn’t do that to ya, did they?” Red frowned and the lights in his eyes took a sharp edge. “I’ll beat th’ shit outta them if they did.”

“No!” You quickly stepped forward and put a hand on Red’s black sleeve. “They… they helped me a lot, actually. Those noises you heard, from my soul, I… did that to myself. I was telling them a memory and that memory brought back a lot of pain for me…”

Red nodded, his eye lights darting towards the archway. “yeah, I can understand that.”

You smiled softly and gave his arm a squeeze, noting that he wasn’t pulling away from you. “Thanks for checking on me, Red.”

“I wasn’ doin’ nothin’ like that.” Red grumbled and avoided your gaze, a crimson blush on his nasal ridge. “I jus’ wanted teh give this back.”

He pulled your phone out of his pocket and handed it over without making eye contact.

“it’s broken,” he glared at the electronic device like it had done him a personal wrong. “went black in the middle of a song.”

“It probably just needs to be charged,” you giggled. “Don’t worry about it, Red. Thanks for bringing it back.” Red started to pull his sleeve from your hand, but you tightened it. His gaze finally flicked up to meet yours and you nodded at the kitchen table. “Want to have a seat and have a cinnamon roll with me? They’re still warm.”

Red gave you a noncommittal grunt but sat at the table anyways.

The rolls were still a bit too warm, the icing was melting and getting everywhere, but you were happy with the resulting plate that you set before Red. As you took your own seat, plated roll in hand, you noticed that Red was already halfway through his and was eyeing the tray with interest.

“So,” you smirked, catching his gaze. “Dollface, huh?”

His cheekbones flushed crimson and he refused to speak for the rest of the meal.


	10. Ch 10 - Snow

Ch 10 - Snow

Red did not linger in the kitchen after he finished his cinnamon roll. You had only just finished plating up rolls to take up to Mutt and Butch, turned around, and he was gone. Since you couldn’t smell his magic on the air, he must have waited until your back was turned before darting out of the kitchen. For a loud, vulgar, mostly abrasive guy, he sure could act shy sometimes.

While you carefully carried the plates up the oak steps, dead phone tucked under your arm, you thought about how you could show Red your appreciation for stepping in with his brother. Since Red wasn’t much of a talker, unless he was drunk, it seemed right that you should follow his example and do something for him. Your first thought was to bake a chocolate cake, but he just ate cinnamon rolls. Too many sweets weren’t good for you, no matter if you were a monster or a human. You could always wait for another day and surprise him. If you were going to do that, you needed to go grocery shopping. Maybe there was something else you could do, something that would mean a lot to him...

With the plates occupying your hands, you had to try an open up the door to your attic room with your stocking covered feet. After several attempts, including one that almost sent the food you held toppling to the floor, you managed to work the door open and made your way up the narrow staircase.

You found the two brothers still sleeping, despite the weak morning light trying to force its way past the snow built up against your window. Butch was curled up on one side of the bed, wrapped in the sheets with your pillow in his arms, while Mutt was laying spread eagle and taking up most of the mattress for himself. You smiled softly, affection filling you once more, and approached them.

“Hey, Butch,” you whispered, holding the plates above you head while you nuzzled his skull with your face. “Wake up. I brought you breakfast.”

“...Lily?” Butch blinked sleepily and looked at you, at the plates in your hands, with fuzzy white lights. “when did… how late... is it?”

“Just past dawn.” You gave Butch his plate as he sat up and moved to your piles of books. One handed, you created a small tower on Mutt’s side of the bed and placed his plate on top so that he would see it when he woke. After plugging in your phone, you returned to Butch and said, “I’m sorry for waking you so early.”

“it’s... okay.” Butch gave you a shy smile and then focused on his cinnamon roll. You watched him, smiling, as he licked extra icing off of his spoon with a glowing, grey tongue. “how... are you… doing? after…”

“Better than I’ve been in a long time.” You smiled widely. “Like a weight has been lifted, and I have you two to thank for that.”

“that’s… good.” He said quietly, his eye lights focused on his half eaten roll, “I… want you to be… happy.”

“So… I wanted to ask you,” you began gently, trying not to sound pushy, “I have some errands I wanted to run today, since it looks like we’re going to get a lot of snow, but you said last night that you wanted to tell me your story.”

Butch nodded slowly, holding the spoon in his mouth as his white eye lights darted up to meet your eyes.

“I don’t want to push you to tell it,” you said quickly, “so I wanted to let you know that you choose whatever time. I can move whatever I want to do around for you, because you come first. It can be later today, or even tomorrow if you want more time to be ready…”

“....tonight…” Butch looked down and stared at his empty plate. “I… need to… talk to Axe… first. It’s… his story… too.”

Butch handed you the empty plate and you took it, watching him fiddle with the sheets. He looked like he had something to say, but was too afraid to say it. You set the plate on the floor, put a comforting hand on his knee, and gave him a reassuring smile.

“Axe… cares a lot… about you.” Butch said very quietly, avoiding your gaze. “I… I know it’s… yours… but… I think he… would want to know…. what happened… to you. before… we tell you… about us...”

“I don’t think I could tell that story again so soon,” you said quietly, noting the look of awkwardness that appeared on Butch’s skull. “But, if you’re comfortable with it, I don’t mind if you tell him. I trust you, and since Axe is part of your story, I think it’s fair that he hears mine, too.”

“you’re… sure?” Butch looked up from the sheets, his white lights searching your face. You nodded and leaned in to kiss the top of his skull.

“I wouldn’t say it if I didn’t mean it.” You smiled at the grey blush crossing his nasal ridge. If he was blushing from that, and not the kiss he gave you in his half sleep, then he must not remember that at all.

Butch looked over at his sleeping brother and his white lights darted over to you before returning to Mutt. His jaw opened slightly, like he was about to say something, then it snapped shut and his grey flush grew.

“You’re welcome here just as much as he is,” you said, noticing Butch becoming flustered. “My door is always open to you, Butch. Come in whenever you like and stay as long as you want.”

“...really?” Butch sounded surprised to hear you say that. “won’t… Mutt get… upset?”

“He better not,” you chuckled, “I was under the impression he had to listen to the alpha.”

Butch’s entire skull flushed grey and he avoided your gaze like you had just said something vulgar. “y-you’re…?”

“I’m still new to it,” you admitted, turning pink, “but yeah. I… thought you already knew. Since you guys have that crazy sense of smell.”

“you’re… okay with… being an alpha?”

“Like I said, I’m still new to the concept, but I’m willing to give it a try, if there are others that might want to...” you shrugged, not able to meet Butch’s curious look. You remembered what Mutt had told you this morning, that Butch was too shy to make the first move, but you honestly weren’t doing much better. Feeling embarrassed at your lame attempt, you stood and said quickly, “Well, I’m going to get my day started. I’ll see you tonight, then?”

Butch nodded and you disappeared down the narrow staircase, mentally kicking yourself. What were you doing? You had just found out about this whole alpha thing this morning, why were you telling Butch about it? True, you cared for him, and he was the first one you kissed, had  _ wanted _ to kiss…

You shook the thoughts from your head as you descended the oak steps. If Butch wanted anything from you, it was only right that you let him take the time he needed. He was already doing something big by opening up to you. You shouldn’t put any more pressure on him than he might already feel.

You were halfway down the entrance hall when the front door opened behind you, ushering in a gust of cold wind and snow. You turned, shivering, to see Axe step inside. He was covered in snow. It filled his blue hood and coated his copper slippers. Strangely enough, the hole in his skull was completely clear of powder, though the rest of his skull was covered in enough snow it looked like a fluffy, white hat.

“Axe!” You paused in the hall and turned to face him. His single, red light focused on you and he gave you a vacant grin. “What are you doing up so early?”

His vacant grin widened. He rushed forward and pulled you into a hug. You nearly yelped from the chill in his bones.

“You’re freezing!” Your teeth chattered and you gently dusted snow off his skull as he nuzzled your cheek. “Why in the world were you outside?”

“...searching.” Axe grumbled, the single word carrying a note of frustration.

“Bonehead!” You growled and rubbed his bony arms through his threadbare hoodie, trying to warm him. Had he been searching for the deer that he was telling Butch about last night at dinner? “You shouldn’t let yourself get this cold! Come in the kitchen, I’m going to make you something so you can warm up.”

As you dragged Axe towards the kitchen, he let his hand slip down so he could intertwine his frozen fingers in yours. You shivered at the chilled touch, and hurried him along, determined to get him warm again. Skeletons might not be bothered by the cold, but he sure  _ felt _ like ice.

“It’s terrible, I’m not drinking it!” you heard Milord’s icy tones snap as you passed through the archway. He was seated at the table with his back to you, a cup of coffee and a cinnamon roll in front of him.

“IT’S PERFECTLY FINE! I MADE IT, AFTER ALL!” Papyrus huffed at Milord as he plated a cinnamon roll for himself.

“You require lessons from Zeta.” Milord snapped and the cup of coffee was surrounded with lavender plasma. It floated across the kitchen, trailing the scent of frost, and dropped onto the counter with a clatter, sloshing coffee all over the marble. Papyrus stiffened and whirled around, brandishing a fork in his red mitten, and his white eye lights widened in surprise to see you and Axe standing in the archway.

“HONEY!” Pap’s expression instantly brightened. Milord looked over his shoulder to see you, too. “I WONDERED WHERE YOU HAD GOTTEN TO! THANK YOU FOR MAKING BREAKFAST, IT WAS A VERY NICE GESTURE!”

“No problem, Pap,” you smiled. Axe pulled at your hand, trying to run at the cinnamon rolls, and you had to pull him back and force him into a seat at the table.

“While you’re there,” Milord said from the table while you made a plate for Axe at the counter, “I desire a latte.”

“DON’T JUST DEMAND THINGS FROM HER!” Papyrus snapped. “I ALREADY MADE YOU COFFEE. NOW YOU’RE JUST BEING UNGRATEFUL!”

“I’ll take this, then, if Milord doesn’t want it.” You took the half filled mug of hot coffee from the counter and sipped it gratefully. There was nothing wrong with it, it was just plain instant coffee, but there in lied it’s problem for Milord: Pap didn’t add any sugar. “Thanks for making some, Pap, it’s good. I really needed this. I’ve got a lot to do today.”

Pap beamed at you, then turned to glare at Milord. “SEE? HONEY LIKES IT!”

“Will you be studying?” Milord raised a bony brow at you, pointedly ignoring Pap, while you set a cinnamon roll in front of Axe. Axe didn’t even use his spoon. He picked up the whole thing with his fingers and dropped it into the void behind his jaw, then held out the plate to you for more. You rolled your eyes, took the plate, and returned to the counter.

“Maybe,” you said as you plated another roll, “but it’ll have to wait. I’ve got errands to run. It looks like there’s going to be a snowstorm, but I won’t know for sure until I can check the weather on my phone and I need to go shopping.”

“WHAT FOR?” Pap asked as you gave Axe his plate, then returned to the stove to boil water and milk.

“Food.” You nodded at the cabinets. “I go through stuff pretty quick, cooking for nine. Even though we’ve been splitting things for the main meals, baking takes a lot of different stuff. And I can’t really carry that much on the bus by myself.”

“YOU SHOULD GET SOMETHING FOR YOURSELF, TOO.” Papyrus said thoughtfully as he watched you do a pour over for the espresso. “WHENEVER IT SNOWS LIKE THIS, I LIKE TO STAY INSIDE AND DO PUZZLES. DO HUMANS HAVE ANY GOOD ONES?”

“Tons of them,” you said and handed Axe and Milord a steaming hot latte, then took a seat at the table near Papyrus. Pap practically squealed with glee and asked what kinds humans made. “Well, there are jigsaw puzzles, crosswords… number based ones like sudoku and kenken… and then there are 3-d puzzles like lock boxes or these twisted bits of metal or interlocking pieces of wood that you have to untangle...”

“WOULD YOU… BRING ME ONE?” Pap asked, his white lights shining with excitement. “IF IT’S NOT TOO MUCH TROUBLE?”

“Awful bold of you, Papyrus.” Milord said icily as he sipped his latte. Pap’s cheekbones flushed orange.

“I don’t mind,” you smiled at Pap, glad that he was so straightforward. “I was thinking of stopping by the mall, anyways. There’s something I wanted to pick up.”

“Like clothes?” Milord slid the last of his cinnamon roll off his fork with his teeth. Axe watched him expectantly while he curiously sipped his own latte. “So you can stop complaining about wasting water and do your laundry properly?”

“I… don’t have enough, um, money for new clothes.” You blushed with embarrassment and let your gaze fall to the table. It wasn’t entirely true, you had money, but you needed that to pay off your tuition.

“Hasn’t Sans paid you?” Milord crossed his arms and glared at the ceiling. “You’ve been here over three weeks, and that idiot can’t remember that you’re employed by him?”

“Well… he gave me a bit already, to help with groceries…” To be fair, Sans had given you more than just a bit, when he gave you that forward on your paycheck. He had practically given you the whole thing, and you didn’t feel like you deserved to ask for any more until you had done more work.

Milord scowled and stood up, his chair squeaking as it slid across the tile. “That’s not an excuse for his incompetence!”

Grumbling angrily, Milord stormed from the kitchen and down the hall, the click of his boots echoing back through the archway. You worried as you watched him go, of half a mind to run after and stop him. You didn’t want Sans to think you were ungrateful, or worse, complaining behind his back. Axe reached across the table and took Milord’s plate, his hand shaking ever so slightly.

“You okay, Axe?” You asked, noticing his slight tremors. “Are you still cold?”

“I like this.” Axe raised the empty mug and shoved it towards you. “can I have another one?”

Your eyes were as wide as Pap’s eyelights to hear Axe speak like that instead of his normally slow, careful speech.

“HONEY,” Pap asked while you both watched Axe bounce slightly in his seat. “ARE… ARE LATTES VERY… STRONG?”

“Not to normal coffee drinkers.” You suppressed a giggle as Axe jumped onto the seat of his chair, then leapt over the back towards the counter. He grabbed the pan of cinnamon rolls and dumped the entirety of them into the void behind his jaw. “HEY! Axe, don’t eat all of them!”

“but they’re my favorite!” Axe tossed the pan over his shoulder, letting it land with an awful bang and clatter in the sink, and reached for the second.

Pap jumped up out of his chair and chased after his brother, who laughed maniacally and avoided Pap’s red mittens with the same graceful agility he had once used to carry you up a tree. Axe ducked under the table to avoid a swipe from Papyrus and knocked over several chairs in the process.

“I’m sorry!” You yelled and jumped up to try and help Pap. Axe dodged you both and raced out of the kitchen with you and Pap in hot pursuit. Axe ran down the hall and into the living room where he proceeded to climb all over the furniture while he avoided capture.

It was impossible to catch Axe, now that he was thoroughly enjoying his game. He was as fast as a falcon, as agile as a hummingbird. An idea came to you, a desperate one, that you thought just might work.

“Hey, Axe!” you called to him, stopping in the middle of the living room and holding your arms out for a hug. He stopped, his single red eye light flashing, then smiled widely and ran over the couch and barreled into you. You fell to the floor, the wind knocked out of you, as Axe wrapped his arms around you tightly and kissed you passionately. You felt your cheeks burn in surprise. You’d only meant him to trap him with a hug, not him to trap  _ you. _

“AXE!” Pap, panting slightly from the effort of chasing his brother, reached out and pulled his brother off of you by the back of his hoodie and held him in the air at skull height. Axe’s feet dangled several feet off the ground. “YOU ARE NEVER ALLOWED COFFEE AGAIN! EVER!”

“you’re just jealous.” Axe smirked and met Pap’s glare. A small orange flush crossed Pap’s nasal ridge.

“OF YOUR INSANITY? I THINK NOT!” Pap stormed over to the main door, opened it, and threw Axe back outside into the snow. “GO RUN YOUR ENERGY OFF OUT THERE BEFORE YOU COME BACK!”

“Wait!” You got off the floor and ran to the door, cheeks still slightly pink from shock. You poked your head outside and shouted into the flurry, “Axe, don’t be gone too long, Butch needs to talk to you! And don’t get too cold!”

Axe poked his skull up out of a distant snow drift (Pap had thrown him quite far) and nodded vigorously. Then he was off, running towards the trees, and he was gone.

“I’m so, so sorry, Pap.” You groaned and shut the door. “I had no idea Axe was that sensitive to caffeine.”

“NEITHER DID I.” Pap patted your head gently. “NO HARM DONE, HONEY. HE’S FINE OUT THERE. THOSE ARE HIS WOODS.”

Pap let his hand rest on the top of your head. You looked up curiously, wondering what he meant by it, only to see that he was staring at the living room floor with that orange blush still on his skull.

“Pap?” you asked, “You okay?”

“YEAH…” Pap mumbled, still looking into the living room. 

You followed his gaze and guessed at what he might be thinking about. Turning, you reached out and pulled Pap into a hug. He was so tall, your head only came up to his ribcage, but you rested your head against it as you lifted your arms and held onto his white armor. He looked down at you, his eyelights wide with surprise, then gently let his mittened hands pull you into him.

“so... is this a bad time?”

You and Pap both looked to the staircase where Sans stood part of the way down. He leaned over the railing, an amused look on his skull.

“YES, IT IS!” Pap quickly released you, flustered, and yelled at Sans, “YOU ALWAYS HAVE THE WORST TIMING, YOU NUMBSKULL!”

“wanna hug it out, little bro?” Sans chuckled and held up his arms in offering to Pap, who grumbled angrily and stormed back towards the kitchen. Sans called after him, “I didn’t hear a no!”

“Sans, don’t tease him.” you sighed, looking back the way Pap left.

“don’t worry, I tease all of my bros,” Sans descended the last of the oak steps, a broad grin on his face. “especially Pap, since he acts like he can stand above it.”

You rolled your eyes at the bad joke on Pap’s height. Sans chuckled again and reached into his blue hoodie to pull out an envelope, which he offered to you. “here. sorry I forgot.”

“No, I can’t take that.” You held up your hand and pushed the envelope back towards Sans. “You already paid me and I don’t feel like I’ve earned that, yet.”

“pretty sure I haven’t paid you.” Sans’ low voice said as he contemplated the plastic bracelet on his wrist. “just take it, Thyme. Milord already threw a fit when he heard you were having money problems and he’ll have my skull if he finds out I didn’t give this to you.”

Your cheeks turned pink with embarrassment as you gingerly took the envelope from Sans. “Thank you, Sans. I… wasn’t trying to complain or, or say something behind your back…”

“I know you weren’t.” Sans’ white lights flickered in a wink. “don’t feel bad about reminding me. you know I can get things mixed up.”

You smiled shyly and Sans’ white lights darted down to study his bracelet again.

“so... did you keep your promise?”

“Yes, I did. Mutt and Butch both know.” you said quietly, “and… I want to tell you too, at some point.”

Sans’ eye lights shot up to your face, wide with surprise. “you don’t have to, you know.”

“I wouldn’t have ever done it if you hadn’t given me that kick in the ass,” you said, shaking your head. “And you were right, I feel loads better after letting all that out. If you want to hear it, I want to tell you. Just… not today. I don’t think I can tell that story again so soon.”

A lazy grin rested on Sans’ skull, his white eye lights soft as he looked at you. “take your Thyme.”

You smiled back and gestured towards the stairs. “Thanks again, Sans. I’m going to drop this off in my room and get started on my errands before we get too much snow.”

“if you’re going shopping,” Sans said, “pick up something to do and make sure you’re back before dark. this flurry is going to get worse and we’ll be Snowdin for a couple of days.”

“How do you know we’ll be snowed in?” You asked, pausing on the steps to look at him. He raised a bony brow at you and you laughed at your own question. Of course he would know the weather, since it already happened in another timeline. “Alright then, I will. Thanks for the heads up. Do you want anything while I’m out?”

“nah, I’m good. but thanks for asking.” Sans reached a hand out to you and you stared at it, at the grin on his face. A parting handshake seemed a little formal, but you reminded yourself that he was still your boss, even if he didn’t want you to think of him that way.

You reached over the banister and grasped his bony hand. Immediately, an electric shock coursed through your body, and you quickly pulled away. “What the hell, Sans?!”

“why are you shocked?” Sans laughed, a genuine, melodic tumble of notes and wiggled his fingers at you, showing you the buzzer he had concealed in his palm. You couldn’t help but smile; you really liked that laugh. “I told you, you started a prank war. this is just a taste. you better prepare yourself, Thyme, cuz you’re not going to have classes to escape to for awhile.”

“Oh, it is ON!” you yelled after Sans as he sauntered towards the kitchen, still laughing at the fact that he got the jump on you.

As you climbed up the flights of stairs back towards your room, you strained your memory for prank ideas. There were a few you remembered doing with your dad, but a handful of ideas wasn’t going to win a war. Perhaps you should stop at the bookstore, to see if you could find some inspiration?

In your room, you sought out your backpack and emptied its contents onto the floor. If you were going to pick up the growing list of things in your head, along with groceries, you would need the extra carrying capacity.

You put on your leather jacket, shouldered the empty backpack and pocketed your phone. You glanced over at your bed where Mutt still slept, snoring gently. Butch had left at some point, after your morning conversation, but he seemed to have taken your pillow with him; it was missing off of the bed and you couldn’t find it anywhere on the surrounding floor.

“I’ll be back soon,” you whispered to a sleeping Mutt, gently kissing him on the top of his skull, and quietly left.

Down in the entryway, as you were pulling on your boots, Papyrus emerged from the kitchen and strode towards you.

“OH GOOD, YOU HAVEN’T LEFT YET!” Pap offered you a red mitten and helped you off the floor after you finished lacing up your boots.

“Did you think of something you need?” you asked curiously, eyeing Pap’s other hand as it nervously fiddled with his scarf.

“NO,” he mumbled, then took his scarf off and wrapped its length around your neck and head several times. It felt like you were wearing a combination of a hood and turban. “I JUST WANT YOU TO BORROW THIS. HUMANS GET COLD EASILY, DON’T THEY?”

“Thanks, Pap,” you giggled and pulled the scarf away from your grinning lips. Pap flushed and pulled at his mittens.

“I’D… OFFER THESE, TOO…” Pap’s white lights avoided your gaze as he displayed his mittens, “BUT I… KIND OF NEED THEM STILL.”

“That’s okay,” You beckoned him closer with a wiggle of your finger. He leaned over, curious, and you surprised him by planting a small kiss on his cheek bone. “I appreciate the scarf. I’ll take good care of it.”

Pap practically glowed.

“Oh, and Pap?” You said as he straightened up, his mitten holding his skull where you kissed him. You smirked evilly, an idea coming to you. “If you see Sans, tell him I already got him back and I want to know what he thinks of my prank, whenever he eventually walks into it.”

Pap nodded, at a loss for words, and you left the house to brave the flurry outside. You hadn’t actually set up any kind of prank, but the idea that Sans would be looking out for one and, maybe, becoming paranoid that he would stumble into a trap gave you a small feeling of victory.

~~~

With your backpack full to bursting from the mall, and your arms heavy with bags, you decided it would be best if you hired a taxi. Sans’ prediction was right, the flurry was getting worse as the day wore on. As you waited outside the grocers for your ride, your phone beeped with a notification for a winter storm warning. Like you needed it to tell you that. You could barely see across the parking lot through the thick onslaught of snow.

You pulled Pap’s scarf tighter around your face, inhaling the subtle smell of brown sugar that lingered on it, feeling extremely happy that he had thought to lend it to you. Your taxi driver gave you a weird look as they pulled up, (they must not be used to people wrapping giant scarves around their heads) and gave an irritable grumble when you asked him to drive you to the bus stop at the base of Mt. Ebott.

“Tha hell you wanna go theah for?” The driver asked you as he pulled slowly out of the lot and into the slick road. “There’s nothing out theah, an’ there’s a storm coming. You trying ta hike in this shit?”

“I live out there.” You said simply and rubbed your numb hands together, holding them in front of the heater vent inside the car. You looked out the back window, at the world covered in white. “On the border.”

“Oh yeah?” The driver peaked at you in their mirror, their tone curious. “Ya ever see a monster, living that close ta ‘em?”

“Yes.” You narrowed your eyes suspiciously at the driver, wondering if he had ever heard of the rumor of the chicken monster and if he was looking for more horrible gossip. “And before you say anything, they’re nice. I talk to them all the time and they’re not something to be scared of.”

“Really?” The driver turned onto the highway, the back of the car swerving slightly in the snow. “I’ve heard differently, but ya hear stuff all the time in this job. Hard ta know what ta believe sometimes.”

“If you ever meet one for yourself, I think you’d find that many rumors you’ve heard aren’t true.” You shoved your hands under your legs for more warmth and continued, “Monsters are no different from people. They might look strange, but there are good and bad ones, just like with us. The ones I’ve met are all good, in their own ways.”

“Think ya could introduce me?” The driver turned around in his seat as he pulled up to the bus stop that was your destination. “I’d like ta meet one for myself, see if what ya sayin’ is true.”

“I would really like that,” you said sadly, pulling your bags from the back seat, “but it’s kind of hard to do with the Segregation Act in place, isn’t it?”

“Laws can be changed,” The driver shrugged, “as long as enough people want it ta.”

You blinked the snow from your eyes. “How do you change a law?”

“How should I know? I just drive a cab.” The driver took your money, and your generous tip for driving you in this weather, and waved at you. “Take care of yaself, kid. Don’t stay out long in this shit.”

You watched the taxi slowly drive away until it’s red tail lights vanished in the snow, then turned to slowly trudge your way up the hill towards home.

It was an interesting thought: changing the law to allow monsters to come down from the mountain. But you were just a college student, a psych major, you had no idea how to go about accomplishing such a thing. Even if you did know how, would the monsters living on and under Mt. Ebott want such a thing? If human souls made so much noise that one might be driven to attack, were they happier being left alone? 

Shouldn’t they have the right to choose for themselves, no matter what?

You spotted Axe standing at the edge of the woods, watching you through the falling snow. You called out to him and he vanished, only to appear beside you in a gust of iron.

“...hey… Willow.” Axe smiled vacantly, and you were relieved to hear that he had calmed down and was back to his old self. “...need some… help?”

“If you promise not to eat my groceries, you can.” You offered him some of your bags and he took them. You trudged silently through the deepening snow together for a long while, your thoughts whirring. Finally, you asked, “Hey, Axe?”

“...hm?”

“Would you ever want to leave Mt. Ebott?”

“...already… have.” Axe shrugged, adjusting his grip on the bags. “...but… I don’t… like it. ...too many humans… gets noisy.”

“Wait, you’ve already left?” You stopped in the snow and Axe paused, his red eye light shining. “Why would you do that? It’s against the law, you could get in trouble!”

“...I’m good… at staying hidden.” Axe’s grin turned mischievous. “...no one… sees me unless… I want them to.”

“But if you ever were seen...!” You didn’t know the punishment for a monster leaving the borders, but you couldn’t help but think of what happened on the farm. Of Milord turning up to pay off the cops, of Edge destroying the offending monster… You dropped your bags in the snow and grabbed Axe by the shoulders, suddenly fearful. “Axe, promise me you won’t do it again. I don’t want anything bad to happen to you!”

Axe just smiled vacantly and shrugged his shoulders. “...I won’t… unless… I have a very… good reason.”

“If you’re curious about humans, just ask me.” You stared into his red eye light, your voice stern. “I’ll tell you anything you want to know, but you have to stay safe. Please, please don’t leave again. I couldn’t bear it if anything happened to you!”

“...same.” Axe dropped a bag in the snow and pressed his hand to your cheek. You could feel the cold in his bones through Pap’s scarf. “...I heard… from Butch… about you. ...about… the fire.”

“Y-you did?” You stared at Axe in surprise. You knew that Butch wanted to tell him your story, but you didn’t think it would happen so quickly or that Axe would be so up front with talking about it.

Axe dropped the other bag and pulled you into him, squeezing you tight as he rested his chilled skull on your shoulder. “…I don’t want… you to hurt like that… ever again. ...you’re too… precious.” 

You returned his embrace and whispered to the side of his skull, “Then how about we look out for each other? That way, we both get what we want.”

Axe turned his skull on your shoulder, staring at you with his single eye light, a smirk on his face. One of his hands reached up and worked its way under the red scarf covering your head and neck, his ice cold fingers grazing the soft spot on your jaw-

“Fucking hell Axe, you’re freezing!” You yelped, jumping away from him. “I told you not to let yourself get this cold!”

“...you took… too long… to get back.” Axe’s smile fell as he watched you gather up the bags from the drifts and beat the snow off of them. “...why are you… wearing that scarf… anyway? ...it makes… marking you… difficult.”

“That should be the last thing on your mind right now,” you huffed, cheeks pink from embarrassment and the cold, and held out his share of the bags to carry. “Come on, let’s get home and get you warm.”

Axe ignored the bags you were holding and instead took your arm. “...shortcut?”

It took a moment, but then you realized what he was offering. Travelling instantaneously was by far your least favorite way to get around, but it was cold and starting to get dark, and you still had a long hike before you reached the drive. You looked up at the grey sky, the thickly falling snow, and gave Axe a stiff nod.

He pulled you into the darkness, the all encompassing pressure and smell of iron, and then you both were inside the warm entryway of home. You knocked what snow you could from your boots and made a beeline to the kitchen.

“Oh, that feels so much better,” you moaned as you dropped the bags and your backpack onto the tile with a heavy thump. Axe trailed in after you, his red eye watching you as you stretched your sore back.

“...what did you… get?” Axe asked and peaked into the plastic bags.

“Nothing you can eat now,” you smiled at Axe as he respectfully withdrew his hand from the groceries. You took off your leather jacket and Pap’s scarf to drape over the back of a chair, then went to the sink to run hot water over your cold fingers.

The sink did not give you a warm stream of water. The moment you turned on the tap, the sprayer hit you full front and soaked you.

“GOD DAMMIT SANS!” You screeched, turned off the water, and stared down at your sopping wet clothes. Even from the kitchen, you could hear his melodic laughter echoing down the stairs. You wiped the water from your face and pulled the tape off the sprayer. Sticky situations indeed.

“...that was… a good one.” Axe laughed, leaning against the table to hold himself up. “...he… really got you.”

“Oh, haha.” Your voice dripped with as much sarcasm as your clothes dripped with water. You were definitely going to get Sans back for this, and you slammed the cupboards in irritation while you put your groceries away. No matter how hard you thought, you just couldn’t come up with a good prank. Not even your trip to the mall earlier had given you ideas.

“...wait.” Axe grabbed your damp sleeve as you picked your backpack off the floor. “...Butch wanted me… to tell you… to go to his room… after dinner.”

“Is he doing okay?” 

“...he’s fine. ...just… thinking.”

You nodded, understanding that some things needed time. Just like you needed it to prepare yourself. “Thanks, Axe. Are you… going to be there, too?”

Axe shook his skull and his gaze fell to the floor. “...I don’t… want to hear it… again. ...I don’t like… thinking about… what I did…”

You gently reached out and touched Axe’s shoulder, asking him nonverbally if he needed comfort. His red light refused to meet your eyes.

When he spoke, his slow, deliberate voice was barely above a whisper. “...please… don’t hate us… Willow.”

“How could I hate you?” you asked quietly, gently pulling Axe into a wet hug. “Don’t say things like that, Axe. That’s impossible.”

Axe chuckled bitterly and let his arms wrap around your shoulders. You just stood there, holding him, biting back the millions of questions that bubbled up inside you. What could Axe have ever done that would give you reason to dislike him? A thought crossed your mind that he might have done something to Butch, but that couldn’t be it. They were so close, closer than any of the other brothers seemed to be.

“You… are not your past,” you repeated Butch’s words back to Axe and he perked up, his gaze curious. “Whatever happened to you then doesn’t change who you are now, Axe. If it… was something bad… then I think you’re stronger for it. You didn’t let it rule you. It didn’t stop you from becoming the gentle, wonderfully weird, animal loving guy standing here now. So no, I could never hate you, and I know that without hearing any details.”

Axe buried his face in your neck and squeezed you tightly. You could feel his warm breath on your skin and you lifted one of your hands to run your fingertips gently across his skull, carefully avoiding the shattered edges of his scar.

“It’ll be okay, Axe,” you reassured him, “I’ll take care of you, and Butch, too. Don’t worry about a thing.”

You felt his skull move as he smiled against your neck. “...you know… you… smell really good… today.”

“Like lilies?” You chuckled at his weird compliment and gently pulled out of the hug. He must be feeling better if he was back to saying strange things. “By the way, I have something for you. I was going to wait, but I might as well since we’re here together…”

You dropped your heavy backpack back down to the floor and dug through its contents. Axe tried to peek over your shoulder, but you hunched over and blocked his view. You didn’t want him ruining the surprise.

“This!” you said proudly, presenting a book to Axe. He took it in his hands, ran his thumb over the stiff spine, and opened it curiously.

“It’s a bird watcher’s guide.” You explained, grinning as he carefully turned the thin pages and eyed the colored illustrations. “I know you like to explore the woods, and this will tell you the names and typical nesting sites of all the birds that live on Mt. Ebott, along with what seasons they appear, or if they don’t migrate at all. Tons of them, especially the songbirds, will come back in the spring.”

“...thank you.” Axe looked up from the book, his red light wavering slightly, with a grin stretched across his skull.

“Don’t mention it.” You smiled back and picked up your backpack from the ground. “I’m going to go change now, but come find me if you need me, okay?”

Axe nodded, his attention back on the book. You left him standing in the kitchen, slowly flipping through the pages, and headed back towards the attic.

~~~

Your room was empty of skeletons by the time you returned to it, but you did have one new addition: a dresser. 

It had the air of being purchased a long time ago, but never used, and it sat opposite of your bed with your duffel bag perched on top. You ran your fingers over the smooth pine, the twin fleur de lis carved into the face, and pulled at a copper knob to inspect an empty drawer. A wave of clove washed over you. A smile tugged at your cheeks and you wondered where Mutt had gotten it. Surely he didn’t own one, since he kept all his clothes on the basement floor? You were very glad you already had a gift prepared to thank him with.

All the clothes you owned couldn’t hope to fill the dresser. The two drawers you used weren’t even close to full, and they were only occupied so that you could separate your dresses from your stockings. You moved towards the backpack and from its depths pulled out a stack of gardening books. You set them aside on the dresser, you could give those to Butch later, if he wanted to help you with a future plot in the lawn, and extracted the only article of clothing you had decided to buy for yourself.

Since you were alone, and you needed to change anyway, you stripped down and shimmied into your new sundress. It was a dark, forest green, with needlework poppies sewn into the hem. Without a mirror to look in, you simply twirled in it, admiring the effect in the scant reflection of the circular, snow filled window.

Your smile fell. Even with the abysmal reflection, you could still see the red of your scars. The thin spaghetti straps and low cut could not hide your back, your right arm, or (since the bell only came to your knees) your legs. Even if you wore stockings, you couldn’t hide everything.

What a waste of money, you told yourself as you looked at the beautifully sewn poppies. Such a wonderful dress, and you weren’t even brave enough to wear it. Even though they said your scars were beautiful, you still couldn’t see them that way yourself. They matched the color of the flowers on your dress, but that was all. You shouldn’t have bought it.

Your fingers drifted towards your pine dresser and you ran your fingers over the smooth wood. Maybe someday you would be brave enough. You could start small and keep your legs all covered, and only show the scars on your arm, maybe your back, but not today. Butch and Mutt might have seen them, but you weren’t ready to show the world.

The poppy dress went into one of the bottom drawers as you changed into a black sweater dress and white stockings. You immediately felt more comfortable, more like yourself, but still couldn’t shake that feeling that the sundress had given you.

You dug into your backpack once more and pulled out a large paper bag. Carefully cradling its heavy belly, you made your way down the narrow staircase. You made sure to check for traps on each step; Sans wasn’t going to catch you unaware again.

“Red?” You called out, knocking at his door with your foot. “You there?”

The door cracked open and Red’s crimson eye light peeked out at you. “what do yeh want?”

“I have something for you,” you said, lifting the paper bag for him to see. “Can I come in?”

Red raised a quizzical, bony brow at you, but opened his door wide and stepped aside to allow you entry. You smiled, excited, and rushed in to set the bag on the floor.

“So I was thinking this morning about baking you a cake,” you said enthusiastically and sat on the floor. Red sat across from you, still giving you that strange, suspecting look as you unfolded the top of the bag. “But I decided that this would be so much better!”

You pulled out a portable cd player and headphones and handed them to Red. He took them, looked at them, then looked at you.

“th’ fuck is this?”

“Don’t tell me you’ve never seen a cd player!” You gasped and dug back into the bag to extract a pack of batteries. “Look, I got a bunch of stuff to go with it, I’ll show you how it all works.” You took the cd player back from Red and opened up the back, “The batteries go here. They’re rechargeable, and I got you two sets, so you can plug one set into the wall and use the other to listen. And these,” you pulled a stack of cds out from the bag and set them in front of Red. He reached out and picked on up to inspect, “I picked based on the songs you listened to on my phone. They’re the bands you listened to the most.”

Red turned the cd case over, inspecting the winged skull on the front. His silence and straight face was starting to unnerve you, you thought he would be excited.

“I thought… it seemed like you really liked Avenged Sevenfold,” you mumbled, turning pink, “and I know that cd players are old fashioned, but I don’t have the money for a stereo. And they’re portable, at least.”

“...how do I get it to play?” Red’s crimson lights looked up at you for instruction, and you showed him. You opened the cd case, inserted the disk into the player, and gave him the headphones.

“Just put these on your skull, press play, that’s this button, and adjust the volume.” You walked him through each step, still nervous.

Red sat there on the floor, staring at the spinning cd inside the player, his expression stony. Your nervous smile fell as he tugged the headphones off his skull.

“You… don’t like it?” you asked.

“...why’d yeh give this teh me?” Red growled softly, his crimson lights staring at the cds.

“Because… I thought you liked music.” You could feel your spirits falling with each moment. “You seemed to really like listening to it with me, so I wanted to make it so you could listen whenever you wanted.”

“so… yeh don’t want me listenin’ with yeh anymore?”

“Of course I do!” You leaned forward, a kind of understanding dawning on you. “I want you to come listen with me anytime! But I’m not always here, I have classes during the week, so I wanted you to have this while I was away.”

Red looked at you suspiciously, the headphones still in his bony hands, and you continued.

“I still want you to come find me so I can show you new bands. I like just chilling and hanging out with you. I just… I saw you smile when you listened to this, and I want you to be happy!”

“that’s what it is, is it?” he set the cd player on the floor and you remembered the echoes of this morning.

“Look, I’m not trying to… to use underhanded tactics for love or any of that nonsense!” You huffed indignantly. “I just wanted to do something nice for you, Red. Because I genuinely like you! And...” you mumbled, “I thought you kind of liked me too.”

A small, crimson flush covered Red’s cheekbones and he quickly hid it with his hand. From behind it, he growled, “look, I ain’t use teh people doin’ nice shit fer me. but... I can tell yeh mean what yeh say, so… thanks, Dollface.”

Him using his nickname for you brought a hesitant smile back to your face. “So, you like it?”

“yeah, I suppose.” Red grumbled, but his hand couldn’t hide the blush spreading across his skull. “but Edge was right ‘bout one thing, yeh really don’ get th’ subtleties of language.”

“And what’s  _ that _ supposed to mean?” You crossed your arms over your chest and glared at Red. He took one look at your angry face and burst out laughing. It was a rough, tumbling noise, like a bunch of rocks in a dryer.

“he was talkin’ about LOVE, yeh dumbass, not love.”

“You just said the same thing twice, dumbass!” you shot back, but Red only laughed harder.

“s-say it with me,” he chuckled, a sharp-toothed smirk stretched across his face. “LOVE.”

“Love.”

“nah,” Red shook his head and said again, slowly, “LOVE.”

“There’s no difference.” You shook your head back at him, very confused as to what had Red cackling at you for again.

“if yeh spoke Font, yeh’d hear th’ difference.” Red shook his head and picked up another cd to inspect. “don’t worry about it, Dollface.”

“But now I want to know what the difference is!” You snatched the cd out of Red’s hands, demanding the attention of his crimson eye lights. “So teach me!”

Red pulled at his face with a bony hand, his crimson eye lights darting between you, the cds, and the wall behind you. “yeh mean teach yeh about those words, or teach yeh Font?”

“Well, we can start with what this ‘love’ you’re talking about is,” you said and handed Red the cd back, “but yes, I wouldn’t mind learning Font, too.” At Red’s hesitant look, you added, “You can give me my first lesson after I bake a chocolate cake for you, how about that?”

Red’s eye lights glowed, but he still narrowed them at you. “yeh tryin’ teh bribe me?”

“Maybe I am.” You smirked. He smirked right back, his golden fang flashing in the light.

“alright, yeh got a deal, Dollface.”

You smiled wide, excited. “So, what’s this ‘love’ you’re talking about mean?”

“that ain’t how bribes work.” Red wagged a finger at you, still smirking. “yeh think I’ll tell yeh before I get what’s owed? yer worse than I thought.”

“Oh, come on! I just gave you all of this stuff!”

“I didn’ ask yeh teh do it, so I owe yeh nothin’.” Red stuffed the headphones back onto his skull and pressed play. You could just barely hear the savage beating of drums even at a distance. (He really had it cranked; could skeletons lose their hearing if they didn’t have ears?)

He closed his sockets and nodded along with the song, clearly proud of himself for irritating you. You sat there, arms crossed, and glared. 

You really wanted to get back at him for teasing you, and thought about stealing the spare set of batteries, but that wasn’t good enough. The ones you bought would last all day, he could just charge the ones he had in his sleep. Taking a cd might be good, but what would you do with it except return it later with your apologies? You couldn’t prank him either, you remembered how mad he got when you and Sans put plastic on his door.

A light flicked on in your head. A perfect idea, one that you knew would have him squirming, because you’ve done it before. You inched forward on your knees, watching cautiously for Red to open his sockets, and gathered spit in your mouth. When you were close enough, had enough ammo prepared, you grabbed his skull and licked him from his nasal ridge to his brow, leaving a thick trail of saliva behind.

His sockets flew open and he swiped at you, growling in disgust as you fell back and cackled evilly.

“th’ fuck is wrong with yeh?!” Red shouted and wiped at his scowling face with his sleeve while you scrambled out of the door, laughing.

You were not expecting Red to rip off the headphones and chase after you. You barreled down the oak stairs, squealing in mock fright, and into the living room.

“git back here, yeh little shit!” Red growled as you evaded him by jumping over a couch. “yeh think that’s funny?!”

“Hilarious!” You laughed and darted around a lounge chair, just barely avoiding Red’s grab at you. You skidded across the wood floor on your stockings, feigning a left, and ran around Red in a circle, still laughing.

He cut you off around the back of the couch. You tried to skid to a halt, to turn around, but your stockings only slid you across the wood floor and Red smirked as he grabbed you.

“now, what teh do?” he growled triumphantly and lifted you off the floor. You kicked against his grip and pushed against his hands, but you might as well have been trying to push through a brick wall for all the good it did you.

“Red, put me down!” you squealed as Red carried you into the hall.

“as yeh wish, Dollface.” Red opened the front door with one hand and threw you out into the snow. You gasped in shock from the cold soaking your clothes. Red stood in the light of the doorway, laughing at you. You scowled, determined not to let him win, and chucked a snowball at his skull. He stopped laughing immediately as your projectile hit him in the jaw and he ate snow.

You knew as soon as the snow slid off of his sharp teeth, that you fucked up.

“No, Red, wait!” you cried out as he pounced on you in the snow drift, an evil grin plastered all over his skull. He sat on you, pinning you into the cold powder with his legs.

“playtime’s over,” he growled, gathering snow in his hands. You tried to squirm away, but he tightened his legs around your arms and held you in place. He reached for the collar of your sweater dress and stuffed the snow down your front. You screamed from the touch of ice on your bare skin.

“what’s going on?” A low voice came from the door. You looked around Red and saw Sans, Milord, and Papyrus standing in the open door.

“she started it.” Red growled and pointed at you accusingly with one hand, a pile of snow still held in the other. Sans doubled over with laughter as Papyrus and Milord rushed out into the flurry.

“Are you insane?!” Milord snapped at Red while Papyrus helped you up. “She’s human! She has no tolerance for severe temperature fluctuations!”

“To be fair, Milord,” you said sheepishly as Papyrus dusted the snow off you, “I did hit Red first. In the face.”

Sans redoubled his laughter and had to hold onto the side of the door to keep from falling to his knees. Even Milord was smirking appreciatively. 

“yeh got somethin’ teh say, vanilla?” Red growled, his tone an angry bite.

“y-yeah!” Sans laughed, “she sure snowed you!”

“fuck yer puns, yeh prick!”

“LET’S GET YOU INSIDE, HONEY.” Papyrus gently nudged you back into the house while Red furiously chucked a snowball at Sans, just barely missing you and Pap, and hitting Sans in the skull. Milord quickly followed you and shut Red and Sans outside in the dark snow flurry.

“Honestly, they’re so immature.” Milord huffed and wiped snow off his leather jacket.

“Oh, come on, snowball fights are fun.” You grinned at Milord and Pap. “I just wish I would’ve known I was going to start one, I would have worn my jacket.”

“HOW COULD YOU NOT KNOW YOU WERE GOING TO START ONE?” Pap looked confused at the thought. “YOU’D HAVE TO BE OUTSIDE, TO START, AND WOULDN’T YOU PUT YOUR JACKET ON BEFORE THEN?”

“Well, yeah,” you turned pink, remembering the circumstances that led up to that point. “But… Red kind of threw me outside after I licked him in the face for, um, being a dumbass?”

Pap and Milord stared at you, dumbfounded. It was Pap who was the first to break the silence, “HONEY, I THINK YOU’VE BEEN HANGING AROUND AXE TOO MUCH.”

“I agree.” Milord groaned and rubbed at his temples with his gloved hands. “Licking someone's face is enormously unsanitary. Have you lost your common sense?”

“I thought it was funny,” you mumbled, teeth chattering as the snow in your sweater dress melted. Pap noticed and suggested you go upstairs to change before dinner. Milord demanded that you take a bath. You agreed to both of their orders and climbed the oak steps, dripping water for the second time that day.

~~~

You emerged from your bathroom warm and dry. Your wet hair was pulled back in a braid, and you smoothed the fabric of your blue sweater dress over your black stockings. If you kept changing outfits like this, you were going to run out of clothes tomorrow.

The air in the hall was saturated with the smell of alfredo sauce and garlic bread. Your stomach growled expectantly, but you passed by the oak stairs to traverse the length of the hall. You hadn’t seen Butch since early that morning and you wanted to check on him.

“Butch?” you said quietly to his door as you knocked, “Are you there? Did you want to come down for dinner?”

“...no.” came his soft reply. 

“Do you want me to bring something up for you?”

“I’m not… hungry.”

You stared at the door in shock. Butch had never turned down food before.

Worried, you asked, “Can I see you?”

Butch’s silence only increased your feeling of forboding, of guilt that you hadn’t come to check on him sooner. You tapped at the door again and said, “I understand if you need more time but… are you doing alright?”

“....no.”

“Butch, please,” you pressed your hand against the door, consern filling your voice, “I want to come in, but only if you say it’s okay.”

You waited for his reply almost impatiently, and as the moments passed you wondered if you should just go in anyway. Your hand was on the brass knob, just about to turn it, when you heard Butch’s soft voice telling you to come in.

The room was dark, but the light from the hall shined in and illuminated just enough that you could see Butch sitting cross legged on his bed. It was still made, with charcoal colored sheets. He clutched your pillow to his body, half of his face hidden behind it. He asked you to shut the door, and you complied. 

You slowly made your way over to the bed, guided by Butch’s white eye lights though the dark, and found a seat for yourself with your hands on the silky sheets. You couldn’t help but notice that the room smelled like chalk, or pencil shavings, or something flowery. It was difficult to place it.

“Hey,” you reached out blindly until you found a part of Butch, his knee, by the feel of it, and gave it a reassuring squeeze. “Are you okay? If this is… too much right now, it’s okay to wait.”

Butch shook his head, you could tell by the blurring of his eye lights. His voice was muffled when he spoke, like he was speaking into your pillow, “I just… I… spoke to Axe… earlier. he thinks… since… since you… bared your soul… to us… it’s only… right that we… tell you… everything. not just… that part. the part… that I see. we want you… to understand… how it… happened.”

You remembered your conversation with Axe in the snow. ‘Please don’t hate us,’ is what he said. To Butch, you said, “I’m here for you, no matter what. If you’re ready, I am too.”

Butch squirmed beneath your fingers and pulled away. “I’m… scared, Lily. of… what you’ll think… after...”

“I was scared, too, before I told you about the fire,” you said softly, “but you’re safe with me, Butch. I promise. Just take your time. I’m here.”

Butch’s bony fingers found yours and he held them, his thumb running over the back of your hand. You waited patiently in the dark, watching’s Butch’s white eye lights stare at the floor, illuminating the top of your pillow as he held it to his chest.

“before… here… Axe and I… lived in… another house.”

_ It was a run down house, made of wood, but the wood was old and splintered in places. There was always snow falling; it was everywhere. It covered the woods we lived in like a blanket. It was always winter where we lived, and snow leaked in from a hole in the roof into one of the rooms, so we shared the other. It was one of the few houses left standing in District Four, but Axe had claimed it for his own long before I could remember things as a kid. Even though it was his, he let me stay there. He kept me safe. _

_ It was always just the two of us, back then. _

_ Life there, in the Underground… was hard. Everything had to be fought for. There were too many monsters and not enough of anything to go around. We were always hungry. Axe would go out while I stayed inside to hide. He refused to let me go out with him, since my magic was weak. But whatever he brought back, we shared. We shared everything, even though I told him I didn’t deserve it. When I argued with him like that, he would leave whatever he had left to eat for me and would refuse to have any more. His red lights would glow with anger if I tried to give it back, so eventually I stopped.  _

_ Because of the snow, of the perpetual winter, most monsters stayed away from where we lived. It was tucked away deep in the woods so hardly anyone knew it was there. We were hungry, but we never starved. There was always something if you looked hard enough, and Axe is the best at finding hidden things. _

_ Those were… the good times. _

_ Eventually, monsters from other areas started trying to move into our little patch of woods. There was ample territory, if one was able to defend it, and fewer monsters to compete against for the scarce food. But that small supply dwindled rapidly with more eyes set upon it. _

_ Axe started to stay out later and later, came back with less and less, and it hurt my soul so much to see the tired flicker in his red lights as we laid together at night; more for comfort, the reassurance that we were still there together, than to fight off the cold. Cold never bothered us. The hunger did. _

_ At that point, I insisted that he have the bigger share. There was too little as it was, and he was the one that was out there fighting, not me. He needed his magic replenished or he would be dust. I couldn’t live with that thought. _

_ There were days where he would come back and his red magic would still be dripping from his fingers from a fight. He always reassured me, even with the light gone from his sockets and reeking of iron, that this house was still ours. That I was still safe. But watching this change come over him, watching him slowly lose himself… scared me. _

_ Then the days started where he would come back with nothing at all. _

_ I told him I didn’t need it, that I could go a long time without replenishing my magic, even though my soul was empty and the hunger kept me awake at night. He would get angry and storm out of the house for long periods of time. One time, I was left alone for days. He cried when he came back, promising me that he would never leave me like that again. He never did. _

_ There came a point where cracks started to appear in my bones. They leaked dust all over my clothes and I tried so hard to hide it. I knew what it meant. I was starving, and my soul was eating my physical body in an attempt to replenish itself. _

_ Axe was furious when he found out. He raged at the room we were in, driven half insane by the hunger I knew he felt, too, and left the house with his magic manifesting itself in his hand. _

_ Late that night, he brought back another monster. He dragged it into the living room and threw it on the floor. I cowered in the corner, afraid of the froggit that snarled and swiped at my brother. It could barely speak; it had turned Feral, like so many other monsters had. It was their soul’s last bid for survival - to erase the mind in favor of tearing down all walls, all restrictions, that might prevent actions that would give life. Axe and I knew that if we didn’t sate our hunger soon, we would turn Feral, too. _

_ As I watched him manifest the red cleaver in his hand and split open that monster, tearing out its black soul with his bare hands while it shrieked and its body turned to dust, I was afraid he was already lost. _

_ We… we shared that soul between us. But it was so far gone, so hungry itself, that there was hardly any magic there. It only made our aches worse; to have just that little bit but to be left wanting for so much more. _

_ Axe continued to bring back other monsters for us. He always reassured me that it was a good thing, the only way, because this way we had less competition. We had less threats, and more magic for ourselves, and he was getting stronger with each opponent he ripped open. _

_ A part of me knew I was going crazy, turning Feral, because I agreed with him. I stopped feeling the guilt, the disgust, for what we were doing. I just wanted more. _

_ Then, one day while scavenging, Axe found a human. _

Butch stopped and pulled his hand away from yours, his palms pressing into his eye sockets, sobbing. You scooted closer, put an arm around his shoulders, and held him tight. You could feel your heart breaking for him, to have gone through all that, but you knew the story wasn’t over yet.

“It’s okay,” you whispered and brushed the grey plasma from his face. It felt like cool smoke against your fingers, and lingered on your skin like mist. “It’s okay, Butch, I’m here.”

Butch nodded, taking deep breaths, and let his hands fall from his skull. His white lights stared at the far wall as he quietly continued, his soft voice shaking.

_ It started like the others, with Axe dragging them into the living room. I had never seen a human before, but I was excited. I could hear the well of magic pulsing in their body. It yelped and barked as Axe threw them to the floor, snarled like an angry dog as they fought against him. _

_ As Axe raised his cleaver in the air, the human kicked out. It grabbed my brother’s arm, fighting back, even as Axe tried to crush their throat with his hand. The human twisted and thrashed and the cleaver came down on my brother’s skull, shattering it. I screamed as bone flew away and became dust before it hit the floor. Axe’s eye lights went out, and he tore the human’s throat out before he fell motionless to the floor. _

_ I rushed to him, feeling panic like I’ve never felt it before. Please don’t let him be dead, don’t let him turn to dust in my arms! _

_ I turned him over and held him. His breathing was shallow, but he was still alive, barely. I knew he needed magic or he would die. _

_ So I went to the human, the human who was still barely alive themselves on the floor, laying in their own blood as it leaked from their neck. I tore them open and ate their soul. _

_ With my own magic filled to bursting, I summoned it into my hands and fed Axe with the drips. It wasn’t efficient, but it worked. He stayed alive. _

_ I carried him back to our room and kept feeding him while he slept. The days slowly passed as I watched over him in fear, wondering if at any moment he was going to vanish before my eyes. I barely slept and the deprivation messed with my mind. I kept hearing the noise of that human’s soul. I smelled dust and blood when there wasn’t any. I think I imagined an earthquake, at some point. _

_ As the magic in my soul dwindled, I had to bite and scratch at my own bones to force it out. I broke a lot of my teeth that way.  _

_ After two weeks, Axe finally woke up. One of his eye lights was out, and he spoke differently, but he was awake and alive and I had never been so grateful in my entire life. _

_ We stayed in that room together for three more days. I wouldn’t let him leave. I was too scared that if he went out again, if he fought another monster, he wouldn’t come back. _

_ On the third day there was a knock at our door. Axe was immediately tense. We didn’t have any friends, only enemies. We left the room together, I wasn’t going to let him go alone, and creeped into the living room. It stank of sweet rot, of the decaying body of the human still on the floor. _

_ Axe summoned the cleaver to his hand and had me stand back. Poised, ready for an attack and to attack back, Axe answered the door. There, on the other side, was Sans. We knew immediately that he was different from the other monsters, that he wasn’t Feral. For one, he didn’t have a crazed look in his white eye lights. They were soft, understanding, and the smile on his face was welcoming. His clothes were way nicer than ours, too. _

_ We found out we had another brother, just by looking at him. Skeletons are not common monsters. He told us we had more family and invited us to come live with them. He promised us food and shelter and safety, and took us from the ruined house we lived in for so long. He promised us that we would get help, that he could pull us back from the brink of being Feral. _

“and... we’ve lived here… ever since.” Butch shook violently and you squeezed him tighter, trying to keep him from falling apart. “I’m… so sorry… for… for what we… did. you must...”

“Don’t,” you said quickly and held Butch’s skull in your hands, turning his white eye lights to face you. His story had shaken you, but you were so grateful that he had explained everything. You might’ve felt very different in this moment if he hadn’t. “Don’t be sorry. You did what you had to do to survive. I don’t blame you, nor do I hate you.”

“but… but I… we…” Butch clung to you and you could feel plasma spilling onto your shoulders as he buried his face in your neck. “you’re... human too…”

“I know that,” you said gently and rested your cheek against his skull. “But humans have done that kind of stuff, too. In desperate situations, we’ve eaten each other. Like if a plane crashes in the mountains, or a group gets stranded in the ocean... It’s terrible, when it happens, but to the survivors, that choice kept them alive.”

“r-really…?”

“Yup,” you nodded and gently ran your fingers over Butch’s skull. “You’re not a terrible person for what happened, Butch. You’re still the sweetest soul I’ve ever known, so don’t let yourself think otherwise. And Axe too. He was protecting you and taking care of you. I think that’s very admirable.”

Even though what Axe and Butch did was terrible, it was impossible to blame them. Circumstances forced them to desperation. And now that they weren’t in that situation any more, it’s not like they acted like they enjoyed what they did and tried to continue doing it. They had never tried to hurt you, for example. Judging by the way Butch was acting now, it was clear he felt an enormous amount of remorse and guilt for what had happened. Even Axe showed that change, in his own weird way. He protected the animals in the woods and told you he wanted to do the same for you, too.

“I’m really glad you're both here now.” you said gently and gave Butch another squeeze. “I’d be really sad if I didn’t get to live with you and Axe. I care about you guys a lot, you know that?”

Butch nodded, his hand coming up to rest on your chest. “I… can hear… it.”

“Good.” You looked over the door, hearing a small scratching noise against it. Butch softly said to come in and Axe entered. You screwed your eyes up at the sudden, bright light of the hall.

“...you… okay?” Axe asked, his red eye light focused on Butch. Butch nodded and beckoned Axe inside. Axe smiled and shut the door behind him.

“just… finished telling… her.” You could feel Butch smile against your neck as Axe crawled onto the bed next to you both. “she… doesn’t… hate us…”

“...she told me… that was… impossible.” Axe’s single light eyed his brother at your neck. He jumped forward, hugging you over Butch and pushing you both back onto the bed as he buried his face into the other side of your neck.

You smiled, a warmth spreading across your cheeks. Even knowing their past, you still felt safe with them. You had a million questions, but those could wait. Right now, you wanted them to feel safe, too. “I’m guessing you guys want me to stay the night?”

“...yes,” they said together.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> These backstories are taking a lot out of me... I honestly cried while writing Butch's flashback. And Hers, in the previous chapter. I needed that fluff in this post to get me through that... I hope you lovelies are taking care of yourselves, and thanks for stopping by for a read <3


	11. Ch 11 - The Queen of Hearts

Ch 11 - The Queen of Hearts

By the time you woke up the next morning, Butch and Axe had entwined themselves so thoroughly around you that getting out of bed was impossible. Not that you really wanted to leave; not just yet, anyways. Their bodies were warm against yours and you felt affection bubble up at the soft grins on their sleeping faces. You were in no rush to wake them up and disturb their peace. This moment also gave you a chance to look around Butch’s room; something you had been immensely curious about.

The weak morning light that managed to penetrate the wall of snow against the window allowed you to see one of the strangest rooms you’ve ever known.

The bookshelf in the corner lacked any kind of literature, but was filled with nature souvenirs: a cracked open geode filled with crystals, a forked branch still holding a spider’s web, and what looked like a deer skull sat on the shelves. The walls were covered with what looked to be trinkets from the forest. Dried flowers, feathers, leaves from ferns and various trees; all pinned to the wall with thumbtacks alongside a variety of what looked like black and white photographs. There were many pictures of animals. One was a closeup of Axe’s hands holding a bunny; you recognized the frayed hoodie, even if it was black and white. You noticed that all the pictures of animals featured Axe holding them. There was one of a fox, another of a fat raccoon, and one of a very disgruntled looking eagle chick. There were pictures of lush trees and flowers in bloom and a half finished photo of Sans sleeping on the couch…

Wait, how could a photo be half finished?

You turned your head to a picture hanging above Butch’s sleeping head to look at a photo of a house, this house, and examined it more closely. It looked so realistic, you could understand how you mistook it for a photo, but looking at one this close you could see the meticulous pencil marks.

They were drawings.

You glanced at Butch and Axe; at the room again. When Butch told you about his and Axe’s past, he mentioned that they had shared a room together. Did they still do that? All these things from the woods would definitely be from Axe and his explorations. So that would mean… Butch was the artist. Did he refine his skill during those long hours of hiding away in the old house?

If that were true, he had an amazing talent. They both did. Finding hidden things and capturing moments… what a wonderful thing to discover about themselves, now that they had left that place.

You looked away from the beautiful things and stared at the blank ceiling. The Underground. Was the it really as bad as Butch’s story made it out to be? Circumstances had pushed them to hunt and kill their own kind, and humans, too; why had it gotten that way? Was it still like that?

Why was it only Butch and Axe that seemed to have gone through that? Why were the other brothers seemingly unaffected by the hunger that plagued their old home in the snow? District Four, Butch had called it. If Four was in the title, that meant there were other districts. There had to be. It wouldn’t make sense to have a District Four if there wasn’t also a District One through Three.

So did the other districts have the same problem? Butch mentioned that other monsters started to move in and that was what made their own situation worse. It was possible, but none of the other brothers seemed to be as particular about food as Axe and Butch. It was just the two of them, for a very long time, before Sans found them.

Why did the brothers live apart for so long? Did Sans just show up on all of their doorsteps one day and gathered them together? How did he even find them in the first place?

Your eyes drifted to the picture of the house again, the one you now called home. It was hard to imagine any of the brothers living anywhere else and even harder for you to hear about those terrible conditions. Butch had been so afraid that they were turning Feral, back then. Was the monster, the one that attacked the farm… had it suffered just as Butch and Axe had? Only it never had an older brother to come and save it...

Humans had magic in their souls just like monsters. What if that monster had just been so hungry that it just couldn’t stand it anymore? That would explain why it chose such a secluded place and went at night; why it had eaten the family. It had been hunting.

Anger bubbled up in your stomach. It wasn’t fair that Butch and Axe had to suffer like that; that any monster should have to suffer like that. Sure, the brothers were safe now in this house, but why had no one gone out to District Four before? Why the hell-

“...Willow?” Axe’s low, sleepy voice mumbled into your neck. You realized you had been gripping the brothers rather tightly and instantly relaxed your hands, shoving your anger into a box. Hopefully neither of them noticed the noise from your soul too much.

“I’m sorry, Axe. Go back to sleep,” you whispered, glancing at Butch to see if you had woken him up, too. He barely fluttered his closed sockets and slept on. Axe sat up and shook his skull, his single, hazy red light glancing around the room. It eventually fell on you and Butch, and a grin spread across Axe’s skull.

“...I could… get used to… this.” Axe smirked and laid back down, nuzzling his face in your neck. You shushed him and pointed at Butch, indicating that you wanted to let him sleep. Axe chuckled sleepily, “...he won’t… wake up ...as long as… he feels… safe.”

“I think he will wake up, if you keep doing that,” you hissed as Axe pulled your hips into his, one of his hands coming up to trail across your chest. You felt your cheeks turn pink from the touches.

“...if anything… wakes him… it’ll be... “ Axe let you go and quickly sat up again. His red eye light snapped into focus as it darted over you and then he gently started untangling you from Butch. “...you need to… come with… me, Willow. ...it’s… important.”

“Why?” you asked suspiciously, even as Axe pulled you from the bed, covered his brother with the charcoal sheets, and led you out of the room. “Axe, what’s important?”

Axe gently shut the door and then pulled you by your hand down the oak stairs. “…just… trust me.”

He brought you into the living room and sat you on the couch. His red eye light darted all over you and his hand reached up to cradle his chin as he thought. You watched all this, confused, and asked, “Axe, what’s important? Why couldn’t you tell me upstairs?”

“...because… no one else… has noticed… yet.” Axe smirked and closed the distance between you. One of his hands rested on the couch cushions behind your head as he leaned closer. “...you… really don’t… know?”

“Know what?” You felt your heart flutter nervously at the sly look on Axe’s skull, at the way he was moving slowly closer, his other hand coming up to rest above your other shoulder. “Just tell me.”

“...I thought… yesterday… maybe…” Axe’s forehead rested against yours. He brought his legs up onto the couch until he was sitting on your lap, effectively pinning you. Your face burned as he nuzzled into your neck again, his breath tickling your skin. “but ...it’s stronger… today. ...without that… scarf covering… you.”

“W-what is?” you stuttered as one of his hands fell from the couch to cup your chin, turning it towards his face.

“...your heat.” Axe smirked and pressed his teeth into your lips. You froze, surprised at this sudden information, then remembered that comment he had made yesterday. And you thought he had just been acting like his usual, weird self when he told you that you smelled good.

Your second thought, as Axe pulled you into him and ran his red tongue over your lip, was that this heat might be compelling Axe to do this. But hadn’t he tried to kiss you so many times before? And just like before, you could feel that desire spark in your belly as Axe leaned into you, deepening the kiss.

Your last thought, as Axe ran his hands down your side and used them to pull your body even closer to his, was that Mutt might be jealous. But wasn’t he the one to explain what it meant to be an alpha? Hadn’t he encouraged you to find more members of your pack?

Axe bit your lip, impatient for your response, and you gasped. His tongue snaked his way into your mouth and you tasted a whisper of metal on his tongue, almost like if you had sucked on a new, copper penny, as he tasted you in turn. Your hands fell to his bony hips and you could feel Axe shiver under your touch. 

As long as everyone consented, this was okay, right?

“W-wait, Axe,” you stopped him with a hand on his ribcage. Axe pulled away, his bony brow raised in confusion even as his hands squeezed your waist. If you were going to do this, you wanted to be honest about everything. “I… I wanted you to know, before… this, that I… I’ve already marked someone. I know that means a lot and-”

“....I know ...you’re an… alpha.” Axe grinned widely. “...you have just… one now, yes?”  
“W-well, yeah.” you felt your face burn even more under Axe’s unwavering gaze. “I’m still getting used to the idea of… of a pack and so… I think if I’m going to do this, I need to be open and communicate.”

Axe smiled and tilted his skull at you, his red light shining. “...are you…. asking me…?”

You looked away, unable to meet Axe’s eye light. “I know you’re interested, you’ve tried to mark me before, so I can’t say I’m unaware of your feelings-”

“...I should have… been first.” Axe growled. He leaned forward and nipped at your ear, his other hand running a thumb along the soft spot of your neck. You shivered slightly at the touch and Axe grinned mischievously. “ ...but this time… I finally… caught you.”

One of Axe’s hands rested on the back of your neck and he pulled you into him for another kiss. The other hand trailed down your back with a slight pressure as he gently clawed you. He got far enough down that he started to touch your scars through the fabric and you quickly arched your back to pull them away from his fingers, but the movement also pressed your body into his. Axe took that as a good sign and pushed you back into the couch, biting your bottom lip so that he could taste you again as he climbed further on you, his tongue distracting you with the amazing things it was doing in your mouth while his hand slowly trailed around your waist and searched for the hem of your sweater dress....

You stopped him with a hand on his ribcage. You pushed him slightly, your face on fire, saying, “H-hold on! I’m not ready for… for that!”

Axe tilted his head at you. “...do you… want me to… stop?”

“W-well, no,” you mumbled, embarrassed from admission, “but I’m not ready to go all the way like that. I… don’t want to show myself yet.”

Axe nodded thoughtfully. “...you don’t want… me to see… your scars. ...that’s okay. ...I still want to… do this part. ...I want to earn… your mark.”

“You really want me to…?” you asked tentatively, slightly nervous at what you wanted to offer. You knew that a mark wasn’t something to offer lightly. But you did care about him, a lot. “I could… if you want. Would that be okay, even if we didn’t…?”

“...yes.” Axe smiled, his red light shining with excitement. He let his arms fall, freeing yours, and watched you as you pulled his t-shirt away from his collarbone. You glanced up at him, silently questioning him again, and he nodded; leaning forward and exposing his neck vertebrae to encourage you.

“You’re… sure you want this?” You asked again.

“...more than… anything.”

“You’re… not just saying that because of my heat, right?”

Axe shook his head and you studied him. You thought about how much you cared for him and all the little ways he showed that he cared for you, and decided that this was okay. You could handle one more in the pack. Two wasn’t that big of a number, right?

“I… I’m sorry if this hurts. I don’t mean it to.” you mumbled to him and took his collarbone in your teeth. You closed your eyes, preparing yourself. You were really doing this. Committing to another but… you really wanted to. You cared about Axe. If you gave him your mark, that meant you would take care of him, too. Didn’t you already promise each other that?

You nestled the slim bone between your canines and bit down as hard as you could. Axe’s whole body stiffened at the pressure from your teeth. His hands flew up and his fingers dug into your biceps. There was a small tearing noise as his bony fingertips ripped little holes in your sleeves.

There was barely enough time to pull away from his collarbone before Axe was on you again. He pushed you from your seated position and down into the couch cushions, his body pressed against yours, and was kissing you with a kind of fervor that left you momentarily paralyzed. His tongue was twisting itself around yours in ways you never felt before and, holy shit, did it feel good.

While one of Axe’s hands was travelling over your chest, exploring the soft mounds of your breasts through your sweater dress, the other was slowly making its way up your thighs, to the place your heat originated from. One of his bony fingers brushed across it and you moaned a little into his mouth. He pressed against it again, rubbing it, and you bucked your hips a bit to keep his hand there when it started to pull away. A part of you rang a warning bell; you didn’t want to be seen, you didn’t want to be exposed, but the other part of you was practically screaming for the touch, begging for the sensation.

Axe smirked into your kiss and slowly rubbed two fingers against the outside of your stockings, soaking them with the wetness you made as it passed through the thin material. You squirmed beneath him, trying to show through movement that you wanted him to go faster, but he pinned your hips into the couch with his knees and kept his pace agonizingly slow. 

“A-axe please,” you panted, half crazed by his deliberate torture as Axe moved to your neck and peppered it with little, slightly painful nips. “Go… faster.”

“...nope.” Axe bit you again, harder than last time, and then slowly licked the length of your neck as you started to sweat from the building heat. “...I’ve waited… too long… for this.”

“A-”

Axe pressed his free hand up to your mouth and whispered in your ear, his breath hot against your skin, “...keep quiet… or we’ll… wake someone… up.”

You bit at the hand meant to silence you. Axe smiled evilly, a red flush across his cheekbones, and pulled his whole body away, including the hand from between your legs. You whimpered from the lack of touch. Axe grabbed your wrists, pinned them above your head, and kissed you as he reached back down to swirl his fingertips against that spot of yours that sent tremors through your body. Axe smiled into your kiss, obviously enjoying himself immensely as you squirmed and moaned beneath him. He was taking his time with you, keeping you just below the boiling point, and it was driving you nuts.

After you tried to bite his tongue in frustration, Axe pulled away with that same evil grin still on his face and his red eye light hazy with his intent. “...do you want…” he whispered, pulling his playing hand up and wiggling his fingers teasingly in front of your face, “...these… in you?”

You looked at him, panting and with your cheeks flushed, then at his hand. You hesitated. You hadn’t let someone touch you like that in over seven years. Yes, you wanted it, but… “Just don’t… take my stockings off.”

Axe’s smile widened, his red light sparkling with excitement. He cupped your cheek and kissed you gently before letting his hand trail slowly down, making sure that you were aware of each little movement before he let his fingers crawl under your sweater dress. Your heart raced with excitement, with fear and desire, and Axe looked at you curiously before he let his hand move any more. You nodded, wondering vaguely what kind of noise your soul could be making with that mixture of emotion.

His bony fingers slid their way under your stockings. You were doing this. Holy shit you were doing this. Your breath came in short, nervous gasps as he lightly touched the outside of your entrance, feeling your wetness on his fingers, before gently pushing one inside. You moaned in delight and Axe kissed you again, silencing you, as he slowly moved it in and out. When he felt you were ready, he added another. 

Some part of you thought that Axe would give a little more, move a little faster, now that you had reached this level of intimacy; but you were wrong. He moved just as slowly as before, just as exploratory, and he made sure to linger on any spots that helped build that growing pleasure in your lower stomach. He reached as deep as his fingers would let him and the whole time he managed to synchronize his movement so that his palm was rubbing against the sensitive nub just outside your entrance. 

Axe kept you silent with his own mouth, drowning your moans beneath the taste of metal on his dancing tongue, and kept your squirming body in place with his hand holding your wrists and his legs locking you to the couch.

Just when you thought you would go crazy if Axe didn’t do something, anything, to relieve that building pressure, he broke your kiss, panting, and roughly bit at your neck. Then he whispered in your ear, “...sing for me… Willow.”

Then he was going faster; finally faster. Your body shivered from the electricity his touch sent through you and Axe kissed you again to keep you quiet, to keep your whines from travelling out of the living room and up the oak staircase. It was building, burning, hotter and hotter in the best way possible and every one of your limbs was trembling and  _ god damn it don’t stop right there oh please don’t stop! _

You were arching your back, screaming your pleasure into the kiss that silenced you as your fingers scratched at the hand that pinned you. Axe kept going, taking you all the way to the top and over it until you collapsed onto the couch, breathing heavily and covered in sweat; only then did Axe slowly pull his fingers out of you. You shivered, still overly sensitive, and he leaned back on top of you to licked his dripping fingers clean with his glowing red tongue while he watched you pant. 

With a satisfied smirk on his skull, he said, “...you… taste good.”

You laughed weakly, still basking in the afterglow of your orgasm. Axe laid on top of you and just watched you breathe; his red eye light soft as it focused on your face. A small feeling of guilt welled up in you.

“I’m sorry,” you said breathily, “that I didn’t… take care of you. Get you there. You know.”

“...don’t be.” Axe smiled and brushed a wet strand of hair from your face. “...it’s a beta’s… job to… take care of… their alpha.”

“I don’t want you guys to just take care of me.” you said, giving Axe a stern look, “I want to take care of my pack, too. So… you better let me know when you want something. We take care of each other, got it?”

Axe grinned and laid his skull on your chest. “...there’s always… next time… you know? ...when you’re.... ready.”

Maybe it was the afterglow, but you knew you meant it when you said, “I love you, Axe.”

“...I love you… too.” Axe squeezed you tight. 

“I’m still new to this whole alpha thing, so try and get along with Mutt, okay? No bragging to each other.”

Axe nodded and slowly lifted his skull to look out one of the living room windows. You felt his rib cage vibrate, almost like a growl, and his hands tightened on your sides. Before you could ask anything, Axe climbed off of you. He helped you sit up and said, his red eye light still on the snow filled window, “...I have to… go out for… awhile. ...you stay… inside where it’s…. safe.”

“You’re going outside?” you said in disbelief, watching Axe pull his blue hood over his skull and make his way towards the front door. You jumped up and grabbed his arm. “Axe, there’s a blizzard! Why in the world do you need to go out right now?”

“....to keep us… safe.” Axe said vaguely, kissing you on the cheek. “...just wait here…. for awhile. ...and don’t… wash off… our scent. ...it’ll… cover up… the smell of your…. heat.”

“Axe!” you barked as he opened the front door. Snow and cold swirled into the entryway and you stared him down. “Do you really have to go?”

“...yes.”

You searched his face and then sighed, recognizing a look of resolution under that vacant grin of his. “I know these are your woods, but you know I’m going to be worried about you the whole time you’re gone. Try to be back by lunch, at least? Or I’m going to come out and look for you myself.”

“...don’t worry, Willow.” Axe kissed you again, letting himself linger for a moment longer, and then pulled away and out into the snow. “...I’ll be back… before Butch… wakes up.”

~~~

Just because Axe had informed you of your heat starting, and that his marking of you would hide it, didn’t mean you wanted to walk around all day in the same clothes you had came in. So, after staring out of the snow filled window for a good five minutes, you headed back up to your room to change.

While pulling a blue sweater dress and white stockings out from the pine dresser (your dresser, you reminded yourself) you spotted the gardening books that you had been intending to give to Butch. You stood there, shirtless, contemplating the flowers on the cover of the book before shaking your head and pulling your sweater dress on. You had a better idea for those, and a better idea of what to give to Butch.

You knelt before your backpack and dug through the contents. On the floor you set a variety of things: a stack of disks in plain plastic cases bearing ‘used’ stickers, a deck of worn playing cards, a somewhat flat, dented wooden box; another, fatter wooden box that still shone with new varnish; and a black book with silver writing on the cover. At the very bottom of the book bag you found what you had originally bought for yourself: a sketchbook and box of colored pencils. You smiled as you examined the massive color variety in the box. You weren’t much of an artist yourself, you had only picked them up because Sans warned you that you would need to pass the time, but you couldn’t think of anyone who might appreciate them more than the quietest skeleton.

Sneaking back down the narrow stairs and down the hall, you tip-toed into Butch’s (and Axe’s?) room. Butch was still asleep; he had someone managed to find your pillow again and had his skull buried into the fabric. Smiling, a warm feeling in your chest, you scribbled a small note inside the cover of the sketchbook -  _ to Butch. with love from, Lily _ \- and left both it and the pencils on the bed to be found later.

Despite the blizzard outside, there was more light in the room than earlier, and you took the chance to look around and examine the collection of interesting things hanging on the walls; particularly the pictures. You were curious if Butch, if he was indeed the artist like you guessed, had drawn anything from his life in the Underground.

There were tons of drawings of nature. Different forest scenes in various stages of the seasons were common around the room, so you guessed that they had to be from around this house. Butch said their old home was in a state of perpetual winter, and none of the pictures were winter scenes. There were also plenty of animal drawings, all of which seemed to be held in place by Axe, and fewer still were pictures of the other brothers. They existed, but like the first one you saw of Sans, they were all half complete and the subject appeared to be sleeping.

Your foot crinkled something on the floor as you took your next step. Looking down, you saw that there was a small pile of crumpled up pages on the floor near a set of bookshelves (filled with things from the forest, like strangely shaped rocks and what looked suspiciously like a wolf skull.) You knelt down and picked the paper up. With a cautionary glance over your shoulder at Butch, you gently unfolded the paper to see what was on it.

It was another sketch, but it was very, very unfinished. It was only made of large, general shapes and guiding lines, but Butch must’ve deemed it unsatisfactory because there was a clear scribble of frustration all over it. That and you literally found it crumpled up on the floor.

Butch rolled over on the bed and you decided it would be best if he didn’t wake up to find you searching his room. You set the flattened paper on the shelf next to a cracked open, purple geode, wondering if Butch would ever finish that particular drawing, and sneaked out of the room.

Maybe it was dumb of you to hope for pictures of the Underground, you told yourself as you made your way to the kitchen. Butch and Axe had such a terrible time down there; why would they want to remind themselves of it by hanging pictures of it around their room?

Still… it would have been nice to see what the Underground was like. Or maybe it wouldn’t. Did you really want to see what famine looked like? Or to meet a monster who was Feral or near becoming it?

You gripped the handle of the kettle tightly. Is that why Axe felt like he needed to go out in this blizzard? Did he see the snow and was reminded of his old life, even though this house wasn’t in the Underground, and felt like he needed to make sure it was safe?

“I’ll have one as well,” Milord requested from his seat at the table. You paused in the middle of your pour over to glance at him over your shoulder. You hadn’t heard the click of his boots on the tile, but you could smell the residual frost on the air. He must have teleported downstairs.

“Oh, sure thing,” you said somewhat cheerfully, despite your gloomy, irritated thoughts. If Milord noticed that anything was off with your mood, he didn’t draw attention to it. “You have work today, right?”

“Normally. And your schedule so far suggests that you would also leave for college around this time.” Milord shrugged as you set a latte in front of him. “However, due to atmospheric circumstances, we are all confined to the house until this storm passes.”

“You can’t just teleport to work?” You asked, sipping your latte with a raised eyebrow.

“No.” Milord rolled his purple eye lights at you. “My magical reserves are not so extensive that I can travel from here to the entrance of the Underground, let alone inside of it. None of my brothers can accomplish that, including Sans. Who, for some reason, has such a ridiculous amount of magic that it’s almost mind boggling.”

“So… the Underground, the entrance,” you added quickly, remembering the black and blue topography map in Milord’s room, “is really far away?”

“Of course it is.” Milord sipped his latte and eyed you suspiciously. “Why are you so interested?” 

Your thumb traced the rim of your mug as you wondered if asking Milord to ease your thoughts was a good idea. But who else could tell you? “Was… was that monster on the farm a Feral?”

Milord froze mid sip and slowly lowered his mug. A purple flush dusted his nasal ridge and his purple eye lights shined at you with something akin to respect. “Now why would you be asking about something that doesn’t exist?”

“Don’t play dumb!” You snapped, slamming your latte onto the table a bit harder than you meant to. You just had Butch tell you about Ferals, about his own fear that he and Axe almost became ones themselves. You were worried that Axe had run off into a blizzard at the mere memory of Ferals and you were  _ not _ going to let Milord tell you otherwise. “I know they’re real, Milord. Why can’t you just admit it?”

Milord leaned back in his chair and twirled his finger. Lavender colored plasma dripped from it, along with the smell of frost, and a towel floated over from the door on the oven to clean up your coffee spill.

“Milord!” You snatched the towel off the table and glared at him. Milord smirked back at you and examined the last of the plasma leaving the fingertips of his leather gloves.

“By  _ Royal decree _ ,” he made sure to stress those last two words, “that thing you are asking me about does not exist. If it does not exist, I cannot have information on it to give you.”

“Your Royals are full of shit!” You snapped. You knew you were being irritable towards Milord, probably even unreasonable. He was trying to help you the only way he could. But you were frustrated that he couldn’t just tell you what you wanted to know. If Ferals were still something that still existed in the Underground, what were the chances that one came all the way out here? What if Axe was in actual danger by being outside, and what if you put him in it by letting him go? Milord’s avoidance of your question made you feel that your guesses were right, and your renewed fear for Axe only made your anxiety worse. “I’m sorry, Milord. I’m just… worried.”

“If such a thing, hypothetically, were to exist,” Milord said slowly, his tone slightly icy even though the purple eye lights watching you were soft, “Is there one thing in particular you’d want to know?”

You stared at the latte in your mug as you swirled in around. What if there really was a feral outside? “What are the chances that… that one could make it here?”

Milord hummed thoughtfully and leaned back in his chair, studying you as he took another sip of his latte. “About the same as you passing your calculus class without my assistance. Even if, hypothetically, one did make it out here, it would be disposed of before it could do any harm.”

That statement did make you feel a little better, but it didn’t completely placate you. “Is there… a way to help them? It’s not right to turn someone away or ‘dispose’ of them if they’re hurting.” The brothers collectively helped Butch and Axe come back, although they had only been on the brink of it. Shouldn’t these monsters dubbed ‘Feral’ be given a second chance instead of driven away? “Is it possible to bring them back and make them normal again so no one has to be hurt?”

Milord stared at you, his purple eye lights flat. “You’re unbelievable,” he sighed irritably and brought his gloved hands up to rub his temples. “No, there is no chance of helping a monster once they are that far gone. Their sense of self, their rationality, and their ability to speak are all devoured by their withered soul. Do not, under any circumstance, attempt to approach one. You come find Edge, Axe, or myself. Understand?”

“So you admit Ferals do exist.” You smirked.

“Hypothetically!” Milord snapped and pushed his mug away. “I can not believe you! Do you not properly understand the severity of the subject which you are inquiring about? If so, I highly suggest you decide to take it seriously before you encroach it with me again!”

“No, I don’t understand, which is why I’m asking about it!” You growled back, glaring at Milord as you watched his temper rise with the lavender plasma around his fingertips. “Why are you getting so pissed off? I thought you wanted me to ask you! And what’s so stupid about my question? That I want to believe in second chances for anyone?”

“Therein lies your problem!” Milord stood up from his chair and it squeaked away across the tile floor. “Stop thinking about others and think about yourself. If you walk up to a Feral the only thing you’re going to get is your soul ripped from your body. Never mind assisting it, it would kill you before you had a chance to open your mouth!”

“Maybe if someone thought about them instead of pretending they don’t exist, they never would have gone Feral in the first place!” You stood up too, your tone rising just as fast as your temper. “If someone just reached out to them-”

“You are not dauntless enough to defend yourself, don’t you dare attempt to seek one out!” Milord slammed his hand on the table, the plasma that clung to his glove scattered at the force. “Those things are shells of their former selves, the only way to help them is to turn them into dust and move on!”

You glared at Milord, angry to think that even today, monsters were being forced into a situation that they had to choose their life over another’s. “That’s disgusting! Why isn’t anyone doing anything to stop them from losing themselves in the first place? What the hell is wrong with your Queens that they can just sweep all this under some decree-rug and pretend that it doesn’t exist?! Don’t they care that their subjects are suffering? Isn’t it their job to care, or do they just shove that off to someone else and pretend it doesn’t exist, too?”

“Don’t.” Milord growled, his tone cold enough to turn his breath into actual frost inside the warm kitchen; but that ice had cracks in it.

You couldn’t stop the next words. You were too angry. “Well, maybe your Queens should stop saving face and start saving their people.”

Milord glared at you with such an intensity that you were sure even Edge would have backed away. His leather gloves creaked as he made fists and the kitchen filled with winter’s chill. A part of you was afraid, but an even bigger part of you was burning with the injustice that you felt for all the other monsters that had been wronged by this royal family. The other broken ones that, like you, were deemed too difficult to fix and so were forgotten. That part made you glare right back, unblinking, into those purple eye lights.

“When you’re finished spouting off your sedition,” Milord growled, his fists shaking and his sockets devoid of light, “you should abandon your implications and remember that you are only one person. You can’t change the ills that befall a country. Overpopulation, famine, violence-”

“I’m not stupid enough to think one person can change a country.” You huffed and crossed your arms, cutting Milord off. The indignant look on his skull told you he was  _ not _ used to that and he looked like he had half a mind to hit you. “But I know for a fact that doing something can change one person’s world. That should be enough reason to try, don’t you think?”

Your response must have been completely unexpected, because Milord gave you such a look of bewilderment that it seemed like he forgot that he was angry for a moment. Even his purple eye lights flickered back into his sockets. Then his scowl returned and he flipped his mug over, shouted, “Clean that up!” at the coffee leaking off of the table, and he disappeared in a puff of frost. 

You grabbed the towel and threw it at the spill, grumbling indignantly. As you glared at the steady drip off the table and the growing puddle on the tile, you sighed heavily and reached for the towel to actually clean up the mess. This was your fault anyway. Why did you lose your temper so badly? Milord was only trying to help. It wasn’t  _ his _ fault that he was under orders to keep quiet about these things. 

A frustrated groan left you as you leaned your forehead against the edge of the table and watched the towel soak up the coffee on the floor. Why was he given orders to keep quiet at all? What were the Queens thinking, by hushing everything up? Problems just didn’t go away if you ignored them.

Leaving the towel on the floor, you stood up and made your way to the cabinet. It had sounded like, just a little bit, that Milord might’ve been worried about you, even as he argued with you, and that made you feel even worse about yelling at him. You definitely didn’t have anything left to make tiramisu, but maybe you could make a coffee cake. Or, since it was just for Milord as an apology treat and he didn’t like things too sweet, maybe a coffee jelly?

You opened the cabinet, listing the potential ingredients in your head. There was no way you could have noticed the trap until it was too late. The red balloon was stretched and you had barely a moment’s notice to shut your eyes before it popped in your face. A dusty, soft something settled on your nose and cheeks and you opened your eyes to find yourself covered in flour.

You were still standing there, staring blanking into the depths of the flour covered cabinet, when Papyrus found you.

“GOOD MORNING, HONEY!” He said cheerfully as you heard him walk into the kitchen behind you. You blinked a couple times to free your eyelashes of flour, but did not turn around. Pap immediately noticed your determined stillness. His nervous tone said he definitely noticed your residual frustration. “EM, WHAT ARE YOU LOOKING FOR IN THERE?”

“The best way to get back at your brother.” you said flatly.

“I HAVE MANY BROTHERS. WHICH ONE?”

You turned around. Pap raised a bony brow at you, saying the name with you, “Sans.”

“YOU SHOULDN’T HAVE STARTED A PRANK WAR WITH HIM, HONEY.” Pap shook his skull at you and gently dusted the flour from your face with a red mitten. His gentle concern reached the knot of frustration in your chest and eased it a little. “HE ALWAYS WINS, TRUST ME.”

“So I just have to wait for it to stop?” you grumbled and dusted some of the flour from your sweater dress. You really should do laundry before you run out of clothes.

“WELL,” Pap tapped his chin thoughtfully, his white eye lights staring at you. “THERE IS ONE WAY, BUT I DON’T LIKE SHARING IT SINCE IT MIGHT NOT WORK IF EVERYONE KNEW ABOUT IT.”

“Please Pap?” You begged, shaking the flour from your hair. “Look at me! He’s trying to turn me into a human cookie!”

“HM… NOPE.” Pap shook his skull. “IF YOU WANT IT OVER WITH, YOU’LL JUST HAVE TO ASK ME TO DO IT FOR YOU.”

“Aw, come on,” you smirked up at Pap, “Not even if I got you the best present ever?”

“YOU ALREADY PROMISED ME A PUZZLE, SO THAT WON’T WORK.”

“Even if I got you not just one, but a box full of them?”

The white lights in Pap’s sockets shined brightly. “...THAT AND IF YOU PROMISE ME LESSONS IN MAKING THE BEST COFFEE, THEN WE HAVE A DEAL.”

“Why do you want to learn about coffee?” You asked, raising an eyebrow at Pap as you picked the towel off the floor to wring in the sink. Grabbing the other clean towel from the stove, you dampened it beneath the faucet and tried your best to wipe the flour from your skin.

“BECAUSE MILORD REFUSES TO ACCEPT THAT I MAKE EXCELLENT COFFEE!” Pap took the damp towel from you and wiped spots on your forehead and shoulders that you had missed. “I’VE EVEN DECIDED TO WAKE UP EARLY TO MAKE IT FOR HIM, BUT HE INSISTS THAT YOU ARE THE ONLY ONE WHO KNOWS HOW TO MAKE IT PROPERLY. YOU ALREADY MAKE THE BEST DESSERTS, YOU CAN’T HAVE BOTH.”

“Aw, you really think that Pap?” You smiled at Pap, who blushed orange as he realized his words. Happiness bubbled up in you.

“OBVIOUSLY, SINCE I MAKE THE BEST DINNER AND THEREFORE HAVE AN AMAZING SENSE OF TASTE, I CAN ACCURATELY JUDGE YOUR ABILITIES.” Pap took the towel back to the sink and rinsed the flour away. “EVEN THOUGH I’M AN AMAZING COOK, I DON’T KNOW SWEETS LIKE YOU DO, HONEY.”

“Then how about I sweeten the deal?” you said with a wink. Pap groaned.

“DON’T TELL ME YOU’VE PICKED UP THAT AWFUL PUN HABIT, TOO!”

“I’m just saying I’ll show you how I make a pour over right now,” you picked your mug off the table and downed the last bits of cold espresso, “and once you’re done making it, you can come upstairs with me and I’ll give you your puzzle box. Then you can tell me how to stop Sans.”

“I’M SURPRISED YOU HAVEN’T GOTTEN HIM BACK YET.” Pap said as he watched you wash all the dishes for the pour over. “I TOLD HIM WHAT YOU SAID, THAT YOU HAD LAID A TRAP, BUT I DON’T THINK HE FOUND IT YET. PERHAPS YOU HID IT TOO WELL?”

“There’s, um, no actual trap.” You avoided Pap’s eye lights as you admitted your lie. “I just wanted him to think there was one in the hopes he would get paranoid.”

Pap raised a bony brow at you. “....THAT’S A VERY LAME PRANK, HONEY.”

“I know,” you laughed halfheartedly, showing Pap how to measure out the right amount of espresso in the now clean dishes. “I’m just having a hard time thinking of a prank when I don’t know what he’s seen already. There’s no way to catch him off guard if he expects it, you know?”

“TRUE.” Pap took the steaming kettle from the stove and followed your instructions on how to pour the water through the grounds. “BUT I KNOW YOU’RE CLEVER, HONEY. YOU CAN GET HIM BACK IF YOU TRY.”

You sipped at the espresso Pap had made. It was good; a little weak from pouring too much water in one spot on the grounds, but it was a good try for a first attempt. Taking another sip, you asked him, “What would you do?”

“THROW IT IN HIS FACE.” Pap smiled at your compliment on his pour over and declined trying any himself. He did not drink coffee. He remembered how out of control Axe got from drinking some and did not want to make a fool of himself. “IF YOU’RE EVER GOING TO GET BACK AT SANS, TAKE WHAT HE DOES AND THROW IT BACK IN HIS FACE.”

“He’s usually not close by when I fall into one of his traps.” you pointed out as you and Pap left the kitchen to climb the oak steps together.

“HE’LL BE CLOSE ENOUGH.” Pap sighed and reached out to stop you as you crested the last step. He was looking at your door suspiciously, his white lights narrowed, and asked, “HONEY, DID YOU LEAVE YOUR DOOR OPEN?”

“I dunno, maybe?” you asked and followed behind Pap as he led you to your own door. It looked closed to you. “I uh, didn’t sleep in my room last night, so I don’t know when the last time I went through it was.”

Pap hummed irritably and squinted at the top of the door. He pushed against the wood with one mitten and it gently swung open a few inches. His other mitten reached up to the top and held something, then he pushed open the door the rest of the way and revealed a bucket of water to you.

“YOU REALLY SHOULD PAY MORE ATTENTION, HONEY.” He said proudly as you took the sloshing bucket in your hands, your eyes wide.

“Pap, you saved me.” You could practically feel your eyes shining with admiration as you looked up at your hero. “I definitely would have walked into that! How did you even notice it was there? You’re amazing!”

“I KNOW MY BROTHER’S STYLE.” Pap smiled, a small orange flush across his nasal ridge, and took the bucket from you. “NOW, I, THE GREAT PAPYRUS, SHALL SHOW YOU BY EXAMPLE WHAT I MEANT IN THE KITCHEN!”

Pap stormed down the hall, bucket in hand, and you watched with wide eyes as he kicked down Sans’ door with a bang of his red boot.

“woah, Pap, what the hell-?”

“NYEH!” Pap chucked the bucket through the doorway and you could hear the water splash everywhere as the plastic bucket bounced off a wall. Pap sprinted back towards you, grabbed your arm, and pulled you up the narrow staircase. You could hear Sans shouting something after you both and you laughed.

“You’re… fucking… brilliant, Pap!” you managed to wheeze through breaks in your laughter. You had doubled over, still managing to stand by hanging onto the edge of your bed, and renewed your giggles as you imagined again the image of Sans waking up to a flying bucket and getting doused in water. This time, the bucket had bounced off the wall and landed on his skull.

“I AM PRETTY GREAT, AREN’T I?” Pap stuck his chest out proudly while he walked around your room, examining it while he let you get your laughs out. When you finally seemed to be calming down, Pap bent his tall frame over and picked a pair of books up off the ground. “YOU SEEM TO HAVE AN AWFUL LOT OF THESE, HONEY. WHY DON’T YOU HAVE A BOOKSHELF?”

“I dunno,” you giggled, wiping a tear from your eye. Pap’s example had given you a great idea to prank Sans, and you tucked it away in your mind for later. “I just never picked one up. It’s kind of hard to carry furniture on the bus.”

“YOU SHOULD HAVE ASKED US IF YOU WANTED SOMETHING.” Pap huffed and picked up more books to set on the pine dresser. “I THOUGHT THIS ROOM WOULD LOOK VERY DIFFERENT AFTER YOU MOVED IN BUT IT’S HARDLY CHANGED AT ALL!”

“Not true,” you pointed at the dresser Pap was stacking books on. “I got that yesterday.”

“YOU’VE BEEN LIVING HERE ALMOST A MONTH!”

“I’m a, uh, minimalist?” You said sheepishly and jumped off the bed to try to stop Pap from getting too close to the pile of things you had removed from your backpack earlier. You hid the presents behind your back and Pap simply stepped around you and continued to gather your books up. “Don’t worry about it. I don’t mind. I’m happy with how I’m living now. Why does that need to change? Pap, stop cleaning my room!”

“HOW DO YOU HAVE SO MANY OF THESE?” Pap asked, astonished, and dropped a stack of books on your dresser before moving on to your clothes.

“I’m in college, I need those textbooks!” You felt your face turn pink as you grabbed a pair of stockings out of Pap’s red mittens. “I’m serious Pap, stop cleaning my room!”

“WELL, YOU SHOULD TAKE CARE OF YOUR THINGS, SINCE YOU SEEM TO HAVE SO FEW OF THEM.” Pap grumbled and sat on your unmade bed, a look in his eye lights like he wanted nothing more than to make the sheets, but he turned his skull away from them to rest on your stack of books. “YOUR COLLEGE BOOKS ARE EXPENSIVE, AREN’T THEY? THEY’LL LAST LONGER IF YOU DON’T LEAVE THEM ON THE FLOOR.”

You nodded and stuffed the stockings into your duffel bag, then hunted around the floor for anything else. If Pap wanted you to clean your room, you were going to do it yourself and not let him do it for you.

“WHO ARE YOU STUDYING UNDER, ANYWAY?” Pap asked and pulled a gardening book off the dresser. “IT’S STRANGE THAT YOUR TEACHER WOULD HAVE YOU LEARN SO MANY SUBJECTS.”

“That’s how human college is.” You said and stuffed the rest of your dirty clothes in the duffel bag before rejoining Pap at the dresser. “We all have general credits to take, along with our main field of study. Those gardening books are to help me with grounds keeping here.”

“YOU’RE STUDYING FOR YOUR JOB HERE, TOO?” Pap handed you the gardening book so that he could take another book off the dresser to examine. 

“I study anything I want to understand.” You sat on the bed and watched Pap flip through the pages of a book on psychoanalysis. “I don’t have anyone to just give me answers so I had to figure out how to find them myself. Books are super helpful, and so is the internet. But I don’t always have the internet so it’s nice to have my old textbooks for reference.”

“YOURS ARE REALLY NICE.” Pap set aside the analysis book in favor of one detailing the ego and id.

“I mean, they’re used, so they’re nothing special.” you mumbled, pink in the face, as Pap continued to admire your textbooks.

“BUT YOU CAN STILL READ ALL OF THE PAGES AND NONE OF THE INK IS SMUDGED.” Pap’s white eye lights focused on the block of minuscule text in your book and his brow furrowed as he tried to read. You wished him luck. Freud was a pain to understand and liked to talk in circles.

As you watched Pap’s jaw move slightly, like he was trying to silently sound out a word in his head, you remembered the shelf in his room. He had a lot of books too, but they were all old and so worn that the spines had fallen away.

“Did you ever go to college?” you asked him and scooted closer on the bed to look around Pap’s arm. He was far too tall to look over his shoulder.

“NO, I NEVER WENT TO SCHOOL.” Pap sighed, shut the book, and put it back on the dresser. “I DON’T THINK ANY OF MY BROTHERS DID.”

“You mean, none of you went to college, right?” You raised an eyebrow at Pap and he shook his skull. Your fingernails picked at the edges of the hardcover book in your hand.

“I MEAN AT ALL.” Pap looked at your books somewhat enviously.

“You never went to grade school?” You asked in disbelief, “High school? Anything at all?”

“NOPE.” Pap shook his skull again. “SANS TAUGHT ME EVERYTHING I KNOW, AND WHAT HE DIDN’T TEACH ME I LEARNED FROM BOOKS I FOUND IN THE DUMP.”

“The dump.” You repeated, your voice flat. Your hands tightened on your gardening book to keep the anger out of your voice. You couldn’t believe this. “The Underground seriously has no education system at all?”

“WELL, WE HAD A LIBRARY.” Pap scratched at his skull and stared up at the ceiling as he recalled the memory. “BUT IT WAS THE ONLY ONE IN THE UNDERGROUND, AND IT WASN’T VERY GOOD. THE SIGN OUTSIDE WAS SPELLED WRONG.”

The hands gripping your book started to shake a little and you had to fight to keep yourself calm. “Did you… did you live in District Four, too?”

“NO…” Pap trailed off and stared at you with his white lights. “HONEY, ARE YOU OKAY? THERE’S THIS STRANGE NOISE COMING FROM YOUR SOUL.”

“I’m fine,” you lied, struggling to keep your indignant emotion from surfacing again. You didn’t want to say something and have Pap upset with you, too. “I just… I want to know what the Underground is really like.”

“IT REALLY DEPENDS ON WHERE YOU ARE.” Pap put one of his mittened hands on your back as a gesture of comfort and leaned back onto his elbow. “I DON’T KNOW MUCH ABOUT THE OTHERS, BUT I DO KNOW THAT THE FOURTH DISTRICT IS THE WORST. THREE IS NOT MUCH BETTER. ONE AND TWO ARE ALRIGHT. ONE IS PEACEFUL BUT HAS LESS RESOURCES THAN TWO. TWO IS A LOT MORE STRICT AND THE PUNISHMENTS FOR DISOBEYING THE LAW ARE MUCH MORE SEVERE.”

“Where did you come from?” you asked. “I know Butch and Axe came from District Four, so which one did you live in?”

“SANS AND I LIVED IN DISTRICT ONE BEFORE WE MOVED OUT HERE.” Pap stared up at the ceiling thoughtfully. “I THINK RED AND EDGE CAME FROM THREE, AND MILORD AND MUTT CAME FROM TWO.”

“What was District One like?”

“IT WAS ALRIGHT.” Pap laid back on your bed and rested his skull on his arms. “IT WAS VERY QUIET. NOT A LOT HAPPENED AND IT WAS EASY TO GET BORED. BUT WE DIDN’T WANT FOR MUCH, LIKE DISTRICTS THREE AND FOUR. WE WEREN’T OVERPOPULATED, OR HUNGRY. WE DIDN’T HAVE TURF WARS AND…” Pap’s voice trailed off and he stared at the ceiling in silence for a long moment. He sighed and pulled you into him, holding you close as he recalled his memories. “IT WAS NICE, IS WHAT I MEAN. AT LEAST UNTIL THE BARRIER BROKE.”

“What happened then?” you asked, laying your head on his scarf with your book resting on the bed.

Pap opened his jaw and then snapped it back shut. He glared at you, his white lights narrow, “I’M NOT SUPPOSED TO BE TELLING YOU ABOUT ANY OF THIS!”

“Why not?” You both sat up and Pap crossed his arms at you.

“MILORD SAID I’LL GET INTO TROUBLE IF I TALK ABOUT THE UNDERGROUND. YOU TRICKED ME!” Pap pointed an accusatory finger at you through his mitten. “SITTING THERE AND BEING SWEET AND SMELLING SO GOOD-”

Pap cut himself off and turned away from you, an orange blush spreading furiously across his cheekbones. You reached up to your neck and felt the still-damp collar of your sweater from when you had washed the flour off of your face. It must have washed off Axe’s mark, too. “Look, Pap, I swear I wasn’t trying to trick you.”

“A LIKELY STORY!” Pap huffed and turned his back to you. You got up onto your knees to try and turn Pap around.

“No, really Pap, I wasn’t doing anything like that!” You swayed back and forth on your knees, trying to get Pap to look at you, but he kept turning his skull the other way. You sighed and sat back, onto something hard, and pulled your gardening book out from under your butt. You stared at the book, your chest tight, and mumbled, “I’m asking… because I want to help. And I’m angry because I don’t think I can.”

Pap looked at you over his shoulder; you could tell by the movement of his red scarf.

“I wanted to find out more because I was curious. When I heard what life was like for Butch and Axe before they came here.... I don’t want them to ever think that their old life can find them again.” You held the book tightly in your hands and fought the burning in your eyes. “I don’t like thinking that what they went through happened to so many others; that it’s still happening. Now I want to know more because I want to change it, but Milord’s right. I’m just one person and I’m being stupid to think I can make a difference.”

Pap turned around and wiped the tears from your face. He gently pulled you into a hug and rested his skull on the top of your head. “YOU ALREADY MAKE A DIFFERENCE TO US. ISN’T THAT ENOUGH?”

You chuckled weakly and looked at your dresser, at the backpack on the floor and the pile of gifts you had yet to give away. “Yeah, it is.”

“GOOD. BECAUSE IF YOU KEEP TRYING TO GIVE YOURSELF TO HELP EVERYONE ELSE, SOON THERE WON’T BE ANYTHING LEFT OF YOU FOR US.” Pap followed your gaze and looked at the stack of textbooks. “YOUR STUDIES TEACH YOU HOW TO HELP OTHERS, YES? YOU’RE LEARNING TO BECOME A HEALER?”

“Kind of.” You sniffed loudly and rested your head against Pap’s white chestplate, letting him hold you as he flipped through one of your old physiology textbooks. “Not a healer like you. Your magic heals bodies, at least monster ones, and I’m studying to heal minds.”

“HOW DOES THAT WORK?” Pap asked and reached out for a book. Because of his height, he did not have to lean far to snatch one off the pine dresser. “YOU DON’T HAVE MAGIC.”

“Psychology is getting the brain to understand itself and guiding it as it works through its own problems.” You took the book out of Pap’s hands and flipped to a page with a diagram of a brain. “It’s talking about your past and finding the method that helps you heal. Sometimes, depending on the condition, medication is needed, but even with that it helps to have someone to talk you through whatever is going on in your head.”

“WHY ARE YOU DOING SO MUCH TO HELP STRANGERS?” Pap flipped through the book, his eye lights narrowed at the drawn diagrams of the nervous system of the human body. “THEY’VE DONE NOTHING TO DESERVE YOUR KINDNESS.”

“That’s just who I am, Pap. I want to help everyone.”

“HM.” Pap hummed, his tone clear that he didn’t like that thought too much. Instead, he drew your attention to the book in his hands. “...ARE YOU SURE THIS IS A HUMAN TEXTBOOK?” Pap stopped on a page with a drawing of a human skeleton and held it in front of him. “YOU HAVE ALL THESE DRAWINGS OF WEIRD FLESH MONSTERS IN HERE AND NO HUMANS AT ALL!”

“That  _ is _ a human, Pap.” You giggled and poked your head up to look at the diagram. “Humans have skeletons inside them. It’s how we can stand upright and not become just a wiggly pile of flesh. We have nerves and organs and muscle, too.”

“....I DON’T BELIEVE YOU.” Pap rolled his eye lights and set the textbook onto the bed. You got off his lap and held out your hand.

“It’s true! Feel my hand, you can feel the bones inside.” With a sudden stroke of inspiration, you gave him a broad smile and pointed at your teeth. “See? You can even see part of my skull!”

“SKELETONS ARE MONSTERS AND YOU, HONEY, ARE NOT A MONSTER.” Pap held his hands out as if that was enough to settle the argument.

“Don’t monsters have skeletons in them too?” You asked, raising an eyebrow. “It’s kind of important for most creatures.”

“OF COURSE THEY DON’T! SKELETONS ARE NOT COMMON MONSTERS!”

“So… what’s inside a monster?”

“THEIR SOUL, OBVIOUSLY.”

“But no blood or nerves?” You asked, morbidly fascinated by the thought of what moved a monster around. Was it really just magic?

“IF THERE WAS ANYTHING ELSE INSIDE THEM, WHY WOULD THEY TURN TO DUST WHEN INJURED?” Pap poked your arm. “HUMANS DO NOT TURN TO DUST, THEREFORE YOU HAVE NO SKELETON HIDING INSIDE YOU.”

“Alright Pap, I’m about to blow your mind.” You giggled and found your phone by the bed. “I’m going to show you some pictures of me. I think I still have them from that project I did for physiology during my sophomore year. We were doing a paper on trauma and I broke my arm once so I contacted the hospital I was at to…. Ah ha!”

You held out the phone screen to Pap. It featured an x-ray of a skull on it; your skull. You smiled and showed your teeth, holding the phone by your face for his comparison. “See? That’s me.”

Pap took the phone from you, his white eye lights wide as they darted from the picture of your skull to your actual face. You swiped the screen on your phone to go through the various x-rays and close ups of your arm.

“See, that’s where the break was,” you took Pap’s hand and put it to the same spot on your right arm. “If you put a bit of pressure on it, you can probably feel the bump of the pin they had to put there.”

“DOES IT… HURT?” Pap asked as he felt your arm through his mitten and your sleeve.

“Not usually, but it does if I try to put a lot of weight on it. Like if I try to lift something too heavy with just that arm.” You looked through your phone and found the full x-ray of your body; the one the doctors took to see if anything else had broken when the ceiling collapsed on you in the fire. You held it out to Pap, who was still feeling your arm, and probably the pin in your bone, with wide eye lights. “You might like this, Pap, here’s my whole skeleton!”

Pap’s eye lights fell to your phone and his whole skull turned bright orange. His hands squeezed your arm and he only seemed to realize what he was doing when you yelped in pain.

“W-WHY WOULD YOU SHOW ME THAT!?” Pap leaped to his feet and smacked the phone from your hands. It skittered away across the wood floor and came to rest by your backpack. 

You blinked and stared up at Pap who, if it was even possible, turned even more orange than before under your stare. Then it finally hit you.

“Pap I’m so sorry!” You gasped. How could you have been so insensitive, showing those pictures to a  _ living skeleton monster _ . “I didn’t mean anything weird by it, I was thinking of it medically! I’m so sorry!”

“YOU WERE NAKED!” Pap’s voice rose an octave and he threw his hands up in the air. He fled down the narrow staircase and you chased after him.

“Pap! I said I was sorry! I didn’t think about what I was showing you, I’m sorry!”

You chased him down both flights of stairs and down the hall, yelling apologies the whole while, and finally cornered Pap in the kitchen. He backed into the marble counter, a red mitten covering most of his skull, as you slowly approached him with your hands up.

“Pap, please,” you said gently, knowing that he was freaking out and feeling terrible that you caused it, “I was  _ not _ trying to show you those to make you uncomfortable.”

“I-” Pap’s eye lights darted up and down on you and he turned away. “I NEVER THOUGHT I’D SEE…”

“I won’t bring them up ever again, if that’s what you want.”

“YOU, UM, YOU-” Pap lowered the mitten and spat out, “YOUHAVEBEAUTIFULBONESTRUCTURE!” and then disappeared in a plume of brown sugar.

You stood in the kitchen, staring at the place Pap had been standing just seconds before. So he… wasn’t mad at you? You didn’t quite understand what he had said before vanishing, but it sounded like it was a compliment.

“th’ fuck er ya doin’ to Pap?” Red’s voice growled behind you. You whipped around and found Red sitting at the table, his untied sneakers kicked up, and he was pulling his headphones off his skull. Even from across the kitchen you could hear the metal music coming from the speakers.

“It was an accident!” you snapped, turning pink from the embarrassment Pap left behind.

“uh huh, sure it was.” Red rolled his crimson eye lights at you. “he doesn’ normally take shortcuts. how’d yeh get him that bent outta shape?”

“I showed him some pictures of my old medical records on my phone,” you said and kicked at the tile. At Red’s confused look, you added. “X-rays. We were talking about my textbooks and I wanted to show him that I have a skeleton, too. I… I didn’t really think through what I was showing him at the time.”

Red stared at you, his crimson eyes flickering. “yeh have pictures like that, huh?”

“Yes, I used them for a school project.” 

Red’s pointed smirk grew. “so when can I listen teh some new bands, Dollface? yeh can just leave yer phone with me.”

“It’s upstairs you can go-” you stopped, catching the pointed smirk and small crimson flush on Red’s skull. Red noticed that he had been found out and jumped out of his chair, his cd player firmly in hand, and raced for the stairs. You ran after him, shouting. “Nice try, Red! Good luck getting on my phone without me unlocking it first!”

You heard Red curse from the second landing and walked back into the kitchen, smirking as you wondered what to make yourself for a late breakfast.

As you opened the fridge, you wondered if it was late enough to get started on lunch. Axe should be back soon… should you wake up Butch? Or would he rather sleep? Maybe you should go upstairs and apologize to Pap and then you could cook together. 

You pulled out your drawer and rummaged around your vegetables for ideas. You should probably give Pap some space. Having something like that thrown at you from nowhere was probably really embarrassing, especially considering that you handled it with no tact whatsoever. Who would have thought a simple textbook illustration would have led to all that…

At least you still had the puzzle box to give him when you apologized. Again.

You pulled out a garlic bulb and a potato from the drawer and one of the brother’s shelves and wondered what you could make. Maybe if you filled up the house with the smell of good food Axe might come back sooner? If you were going to cook, you should find that cookbook you gave Pap or pull up a recipe on your phone.

You reached back into the fridge, to put back the food in your hands, and stared. Did you grab the garlic from your drawer, or the potato? It was hard to tell what food was yours and what had magic. They looked exactly the same.

Your eyes widened. They looked exactly the same. So why did one only grow with magic? You grabbed the bulb of garlic and dug around the fridge until you found another in the door, then ran upstairs to find a spare notepad and your gardening book.


	12. Ch 12 - Law and Disorder

Ch 12 - Law and Disorder

The garlic bulb slowly came apart in your hands, shedding white, papery flakes onto your notes. You brushed them onto the floor and jotted down how many cloves were in that bulb and how many of them already had green shoots poking out of the pointed tips. You didn’t know which one was the monster garlic, but you were careful to keep the two plants separate while you created the outline for your experiment. 

You pulled your gardening book closer and double checked the planting and care instructions. This might work fine for human garlic, but you needed to know if the other would flourish under the same care. Thus, the separation of the bulbs.

It would be very helpful if you could get information on monster farming techniques. With a sigh, you looked out of the circular attic window at the blizzard raging just beyond the glass. You worried again about Axe being outside in this, despite considering going out yourself to get dirt. Maybe Sans could lend you a bucket, and you could go look for Axe under the pretense of finding potting soil?

You wiped the fog on the glass away with the sleeve of your blue sweater dress to stare out at the outline of the forest through the snow. Axe had gone out countless times into the woods by himself and he had always been just fine. Maybe it was just your new knowledge that was making you paranoid. If Butch was sleeping soundly, not worried that his brother was venturing out on the surface, surely you didn’t need to be so anxious?

Turning back to your room, you found your phone on the floor by your backpack and checked the time. It wasn’t even noon. Axe said he would be back before lunch; before his brother woke up. You looked at your notes on the pine dresser, at the presents on the floor you had yet to give out. 

If he wasn’t back by the time Butch woke up, then you would go looking for him. In the meantime, you had your new experiment to work on. The storm had given you a class free day, and it might give you another if this snowfall kept up; you wanted to use it. Your professors weren’t sending homework out during this weather and it was about time you started preparing for spring.

You ran your fingers over the smooth pine of your dresser. Tearing a small corner off of your notes, you marked your place in your book and knelt before the things pouring out of your backpack. After only a brief moment of searching you left your room, clutching a plastic case in your hand.

You paused on the second floor, wary for a hidden prank. You looked at the base of the door for anything you could trip on to trigger a trap and checked the handle for peanut butter. You glanced down the hall, at Pap’s door, and silently thanked him again for finding the bucket prank earlier. You would be out of clean clothes if he hadn’t. Your eyes darted further down the hall, at Milord’s door, and you turned back upstairs.

Five minutes later and you were standing in front of Milord’s door with the large, flat wooden box in your hands. You dropped the duffel bag full of your dirty clothes and Mutt’s gift at your feet and knocked. Silence.

You had raised your hand to knock again when the door cracked open. Milord’s purple eye light glared out at you and his voice was icy when he said, “What do you want? I’m busy.”

“To apologize. And give you this.” You held up the box and the contents rattled against the slightly dented wood. The door opened a bit more and Milord eyed the box quizzically. “Can I come in for a moment?”

Milord sighed irritably, but stepped away from the door all the same. He crossed his room to do something with papers on his desk while you nervously stepped inside.

“So, I thought about what you said, about those hypotheticals,” you added quickly, noticing the angry glare you got from over Milord’s shoulder, “and you’re right. About everything.”

“Of course I am. I’m very rarely wrong.” Milord snapped, his tone still bitter as he crossed his arms over his chest. You bit your tongue to stop your retort. You were here to make up, not start another fight, and you had a point to prove, too.

“You are definitely the smartest guy I know.” you smiled gently and Milord raised a bony brow at you. Something about the look on his face gave you the impression he had expected you to contradict him. “You’re not the first person to tell me I can’t save everyone, or that I should try. My dad’s told me that, and my professors, and Pap did, too, in his own way. Just after you did. I know I can be stubborn and passionate about helping others, but that’s just who I am.”

Milord’s boot irritably tapped against the wood floor. “You forgot to mention frustratingly altruistic. You display that kind of behavior frequently and frankly, it’s vexing to watch.” He nodded at the box in your hands and said coldly, “I made a point of contacting Sans for you so that you could deal with your financial issues and you ignore them completely? Let me guess, you didn’t do this just for me, but for my other brothers as well?”

“It’s my money and I can do with it what I like.” You glared at Milord, slightly pink. “And before you say anything, I did get myself something. I just like all of you guys and wanted to make you happy.”

You shoved the wooden box into Milord’s gloved hands and it rattled merrily. Milord scowled as he looked at the box, then at you. He did not open it.

“If you’d rather it be a trade, I could use some advice on farming magical plants.” You said and crossed your arms, now that you didn’t have the box in your hands. Milord’s purple lights narrowed at you suspiciously. You smirked at him and continued, “You were right when I said I can’t help everyone, so I’m going to just focus on my job as a groundskeeper.”

“It’s about time.” Milord huffed, his tone a little warmer, and gently put the box on his desk. “But you won’t be able to get that kind of information from me or anyone else. Monsters do not practice agriculture. The plants in the Underground do not take well to domestication. Stick to what you find on the surface and be content with that.”

“I’ve already started some planning for a garden that I want to build come spring.” You ignored his comment and examined your nails to keep yourself from looking at Milord directly in the eye lights. He always wanted to make you work for information from him, and you were going to do the exact same thing. “It’s nothing big, but I have high hopes I can grow enough to feed the whole house during the warmer seasons.”

“For yourself, you mean? I just told you, our plants don’t take well to domestication.” Milord rolled his eye lights. “They barely grow in the Underground, you’re doomed to fail if you try to plant them on the surface.”

“Well, I was thinking.” You suppressed a smile and started to pace a small path across the wood floor. “You boys sure eat a lot, and I don’t exactly help out when I buy groceries. I can’t tell what foods in the kitchen have magic or not without a label attached; it all looks exactly the same. But we both can eat it, and we frequently combine our ingredients to make meals that we can both eat and provide us both with nutrition. Why can’t I do the same with the food itself?

“Maybe if I tried to grow a  _ pure _ monster plant up here on the surface, it would fail, but I have some experiments that I’m planning that might be helpful. The plants I eat are made for the surface and humans breed new strains all the time to adapt to different climates. If I can get these plants to cross breed with the magical variety and grow successfully, then I’ll have a nice big garden to build come spring that’ll feed all of us.” you felt the corner of your mouth turn up as you glimpsed the understanding starting to shine in Milord’s purple lights.

“It wouldn’t be strange for me to keep detailed notes of what I’m doing, would it?” you asked with a hint of triumph in your voice. “Nor would it be strange for me to leave such notes unattended. I’m not doing anything wrong, am I? Just my job as a groundskeeper trying to help feed my monster housemates and myself. But suppose, _hypothetically,_ my experiment could help someplace else and some Captain just _happened_ to stumble across them and of course if he’s brilliant like I know he is he’ll make sure that he tells the right royal lady about it so that her subjects can get the help they need...”

You stopped pacing and looked at Milord to see the effect of your words. He was already across the room and in your face, reaching out to you, and you jumped in surprise.

“Do you have any idea,” Milord grabbed your hands and held them, his purple lights bright and sparkling with excitement as the suggestion of a smile tugged at the corners of his teeth, “how big that could be for the Underground if it works? If what you’re doing actually works and we could mass produce the results?”

“How should I know?” you smirked, holding Milord’s gaze. “I don’t know anything about the Underground, right? I’m not trying to change the world, I’m just trying to take care of my housemates.”

You felt the soft leather of his gloves slide across your skin as his hands tightened their grip on yours.

“I have been trying for years,  _ years! _ ,” Milord pulled you over to the desk and started digging through the papers excitedly, “to come up with a viable solution! I never thought to attempt cross breeding. Of course not, I’ve never had access to human crops before you arrived so why would I? If only I could...”

Milord’s voice drifted off and his shoulders sagged. He set the papers he was going through back onto his desk and slowly sat back into the swivel chair. You put a hand on his shoulder, worried by how quickly he had been deflated. “Milord, what’s wrong?”

“Your idea is brilliant. I just… nothing. Forget about it.” Milord grumbled with such finality, his tone suddenly icy again, that you didn’t know what to say. He sat in his desk chair, staring at the papers while you awkwardly glanced at the numbers on the sheets, recognizing a similar layout to the ones you saw the last time you were in this room. 

“Do you… have to solve a lot of problems for your job?” you asked slowly, turning to look at the wall of medals. It wasn’t just hunger that was a problem in the Underground. You remembered other notable mentions: overpopulation, lack of education, turf wars and other such violence...

“Of course.” Milord rubbed at his temples as he continued to glare at the papers. “My entire career has revolved around solving the problems that the Queens give to me. They expect results. My lack of inspiration or resources is irrelevant.” He added that last part quietly, bitterly.

“By yourself?” you asked gently, your tone understanding. Milord nodded and you gave his shoulder a reassuring squeeze. No wonder he was working on his days off and got migraines if his Queens were putting that much pressure on him. You knew how hard it could be to try and solve something with no one to help you. That was your life after your parents died. You had to figure everything out on your own, but you at least had the internet and your school’s library and-

You turned the chair and held it in place, forcing Milord to look at you as you were struck with a sudden idea. “If you could build your own library, what kind of subjects would you like?”

“I...” Milord raised a bony brow at you, his cold voice laced with hesitation, “I suppose I would have a variety. Why?”

“Someone told me that there is only one library in the Underground and that it’s not very good. But I like to buy my books instead of renting them if I think I’ll keep revisiting the subject again and again. Like if I know it might take some time to solve a major problem my classes have given me. And I was thinking that, since I’m learning so much about monsters, that I should return the favor and pick up stuff about humans that might inspire you guys. Maybe it’ll help you with any problems you might have _._ ”

Milord’s purple lights widened and you smiled at him. “I can pick up books about anything. I have the entirety of human knowledge to dig through for subjects that might interest you and your brothers. I just have to decide on the books to buy and then I can give them to you. Or, if you prefer, you can borrow them from me.”

“You are… absolutely sure about that?” Milord asked slowly. “I don’t want the human authorities to misinterpret what you’re offering as something beyond learning the basic functions of coexistence.”

“Don’t worry about it, humans have no laws saying we can’t share our information; at least not in this country. You monsters are the only ones keeping secrets here,” you said slyly, bringing a lavender flush to Milord’s nasal ridge. “You don’t have to tell me what you’re working on. I understand that you can’t. But maybe you can give me some ‘hypotheticals’ and I’ll see what I can dig up at school, yeah? Or we could sit together and come up with theories on them together. Maybe one person can’t change the world, but what about two?”

“I’m afraid hypotheticals aren’t going to cut it.” Milord smirked and stared up at you, his purple eye lights slightly hazy. “There is still my side of the law to consider. As Captain, my punishment for breaking it would be much more severe since I have no plausible deniability. I would have to be careful how I apply your assistance to my work, since any information that I receive that obviously isn’t from the Underground will have clear implications that I have either left Mt. Ebott for it or informed a human enough to retrieve it. You already know more than you ever should, it would be disastrous if you were interrogated.”

“Interrogated by who, the Underground cops? Why do they care if you have human knowledge?”

“In the Underground, the police and the Guard are one in the same.” Milord rubbed at his temple as he thought. “I have a lot of influence, as Captain, but we should avoid directly breaking any laws. Humans cannot know about the problems of the Underground. I’m not immune to the law just because of my standing.”

“You know your laws better than I do,” you shook your head and said with an air of mock impatience, “But as Captain, wouldn’t it be part of your duty to make sure I’m not stealing monster secrets or something? I could be hiding information on you guys in my books. All those notes I leave laying around for things I want to look up and books I want to buy are obviously distractions I put around for you to find. It’s also a shame I’m not more attentive and I don’t leave my room locked when I leave. I forget to do that, since I have a very busy school schedule, you know.”

“Yes, you do, don’t you?” Milord uttered softly as you straightened up and brushed at the hem of your blue sweater dress.

“Yup. So, I should probably get to that.” You winked at him and turned for the door. “Let me know if you like your gift and if you want to play together sometime.”

Milord eyed the box on his desk, then you, then jumped out of his chair as thought it had shocked him. He grabbed your arm as you reached for the door handle and pulled you away from it.

“I have something for you, too.” He said and pointed towards one of his many cabinets. Lavender plasma dripped from his beckoning finger and a small package, wrapped with parchment paper and yellow twine, floated over and settled itself in your hand. The frosty plasma floated away as Milord stopped using his magic and you looked up at him curiously. “Don’t get excited, it’s not comparable to what you got me.”

“You didn’t even look at what I got you.”

“I know that I didn’t own it previously.” Milord gestured at the package and added coolly, “The eight-limbed imbecile couldn’t even follow my instructions properly for the repair. So just take it with my apologies that I ruined them in the first place.”

“Are these… my stockings?” You asked as you ripped open the parchment paper. They were your stockings, the white pair that Milord had ripped in half when he got angry at you in the laundry room. But these ones were definitely different than before. For one thing, they now had decorative black vines stitched along the outer sides of the leg and… they were still in two. They weren’t stockings anymore, they were thigh high leggings.

“I told you she didn’t follow instructions.” Milord scowled as you took one of the leggings out and held it up against your side to examine the detail work against your sweater dress.

“Milord, these are beautiful!” you smiled wide and the flush returned to Milord’s skull. “I’ve never had something this pretty that I could actually wear since… since forever! Thank you!”

You bounced on your heels, excited that he had done something so thoughtful for you. This was the first real gift you had gotten since the nurse gave you that card and your dad’s jacket, and the first that was in person. Happiness bubbled up in your chest and you reached out, grabbed his purple scarf, and held his skull in place while you planted a kiss on his flushed cheekbone. “Let me know soon about what kind of subjects I should take interest in, okay?”

Milord’s gloved hand flew up and grabbed your wrist before it fell away. With a small tug he pulled you in close, holding you against him with a hand at your lower back. Your eyes widened as you noticed his flush deepen and his purple lights became hazy as they looked over your face.

“Are you aware,” Milord whispered, the soft leather of his glove tickling your wrist as he moved his thumb back and forth over it, “of how incredibly alluring your ingenuity can be?”

Your cheeks turned pink from the sudden contact and your brain struggled to process what Milord had just said. As you blinked stupidly at him, he leaned slightly closer. You felt your face go from pink to red as your heart thundered in your ears. “Um… th-thank you?”

Milord’s eye lights snapped back into focus and his skull flushed dark purple. He cleared his throat, despite not having one, and awkwardly avoided your eyes as he stepped away from you. He quickly, but gently, shooed you out into the hall after opening his door with a flick of lavender magic. “Never mind what I... I just… Just go about your daily routine, Zeta.”

“Okay… I’ll, um, see you soon?” you smiled hesitantly and grabbed your duffel bag off the floor. Milord, barely managing to hide his own small grin, shut the door softly.

As you slowly descended the oak steps you safely tucked the repaired leggings into a side pocket of your duffel bag. Your heart beat slowed, leaving you feeling slightly light headed. Did that really just happen? Milord was always cold and standoffish - even when he was being nice. To see that look on his skull, to have him act almost romantically was... well it wasn’t bad, but it was definitely strange. In a good way. 

You were so caught up in your thoughts, so excited about your experiment and confused about what happened with Milord, that you barely felt the string pulled across the archway at ankle level. You probably wouldn’t have noticed at all if it was anything but the bright red balloon that was falling towards your face.

You dived into the side of the archway, just barely missing the trap as the string holding the balloon snapped. It exploded on the tile, flooding the entryway with water and soaking the feet of your stockings. You glared at the mess that you now had to clean up. Oh, he was gonna get it. You would not rest until you got Sans back good.

As you mopped up the water you strained your brain. Something that he wouldn’t see coming. You had an idea, but it was pretty obvious since it was you. But if you took it a step further, maybe…

It should work. It  _ would _ work. You smirked to yourself as you put the mop away. And Sans wouldn’t see it coming, since you wouldn’t have to technically lie when you lured him in. This was going to be good.

You knocked at the basement door and got no answer. Wondering if Mutt was asleep, you nervously opened the door and started your way down the creaky wooden steps. If you were dating, it wasn’t such a bad thing if you walked in without an invitation, right? Even if he was still sleeping, you could start your laundry and leave your gift on the bed, like you had done with Butch.

Mutt was sprawled out on his bed with his sockets closed. Instead of his usual turtleneck, now he was wearing an orange t-shirt that hung loosely over his rib cage along with his black sweatpants. You dropped your duffel bag onto the floor and took out his present, wondering if you should try doing some laundry for him, as you quietly approached the bed and looked around. It seemed like there were more piles of clothes on the floor than before, but that couldn’t be right. If there were more clothes, why did the room feel emptier?

While you were contemplating this, a pair of bony hands snatched you up and pulled you onto the mattress. You squealed as Mutt drew you under the black sheets with him and curled himself against your back.

“I was wondering when I’d see you.” Mutt purred sleepily, burying his face into your hair and neck. “I missed you.”

“I just saw you,” you giggled, turning around so you could pull him in for a gentle kiss. “But I missed you, too. I also wanted to come down here and thank you for your present with one of my own.”

“Mmm, is it letting me be the first to enjoy this?” Mutt pressed his face against the soft spot on your neck and breathed deeply. One of his hands wandered over your waist and he sighed into your skin. “Your heat is… just as good as I thought it would be.”

“Well, to be honest, I, um...” you felt your face redden and your heart rate increase from nerves. You knew you wanted to be open about whatever happened in this relationship, but watching Mutt pull away and his hazy red lights sharpen with his confusion made you nervous. “You’re not the first to notice it. I… found out about it early this morning. Axe told me. Before I, um, marked him.”

“Oh?” Mutt’s eye lights flickered and he stared at you. He sat up, asking with surprise in his raspy voice, “You did that before he could finish marking you?”

“No, he did,” you felt your face redden even more. This isn’t how you imagined this going. “I ended up getting pranked by Sans and had to wash a bunch of flour off of me, so I think that washed his mark away. Axe said it would cover the smell of my heat, but Pap noticed it when we were hanging out later.”

“So, why are you telling me about this?” Mutt raised a bony brow at you.

“Because I want us to communicate!” You pressed, worried at the look Mutt was giving you. “I’m trying my best to figure out how to handle this kind of relationship, but I know we need to be honest about these things so that we don’t accidentally hurt each other. I knew you’d find out about it eventually, so I wanted to tell you myself. I don’t want anyone to think I’m hiding things. I still care about you and I understand if you’re upset-”

“Easy, Robin.” Mutt’s red lights softened and he pulled you back in for cuddles. “I’m not upset. Just… a little surprised. I didn’t think you would add Axe as the next one in the pack.”

“You’re… not upset?” You let the tightness in your chest ease as Mutt kissed the top of your head.

“Nope. I’m the one that wanted you to find more, right?” Mutt tried to keep his tone casual as he added, “and as long as we’re being honest I should have… maybe expected him to go after you after I bragged at dinner last night. About getting your mark.”

“You…?” You turned around and stared at Mutt. “You did what now?”

Mutt pointed to his t-shirt and you leaned back, noticing fully with him sitting up just how loosely the fabric fell on his bones. He shifted slightly under your gaze and you caught a glimpse of your mark as the fabric swayed.

“Mutt! I don’t want you bragging about stuff like that!” You chastised, turning pink. Mutt shrank slightly away, an apologetic smirk on his face. “We already talked about this!”

“I know we did and trust me, I regret it.” Mutt hung his head and avoided your angry gaze. “I figured you might get mad but I couldn’t help myself. I was really excited. Just don’t be too harsh with me now, Robin, I already got a lecture from Milord about it.”

“I can’t believe after- wait, he what?” You stared at Mutt in confusion. “Why did Milord lecture you?”

Mutt fidgeted with his t-shirt as he explained, “Milord and I have lived together since I was just a baby bones. He knows how I can be if I don’t watch myself, and I’m pretty sure he’s got a good read on you too by this point.”

You thought back to your recent argument with Milord. He definitely knew what you were like. He had called you out on trying to do more than you were capable of and he knew you had gotten presents for the others just by you giving one to him. You nodded at Mutt, understanding.

“He gave me this huge lecture on responsibility and taking care of you,” Mutt said, sounding encouraged by how calm you were, “and… well it made me realize I wasn’t doing as much as I should. He’s right, I should be taking care of you, so I thought I’d start by giving you my old dresser. I don’t use it at all and you could use some furniture in your room. I know it’s not much, but it’s a start, right?”

“Well, I love the dresser,” you smiled softly at Mutt, “and I appreciate your honesty and your thoughtfulness. There’s something I told Axe this morning and I want to make sure you hear it: this relationship of ours isn’t just one way. I want to take care of you guys, too. So if you need something from me, you better ask.”

“...I need… affection?” Mutt asked, his red eye lights glancing up at you as he smiled hopefully. 

“As long as you promise to not brag.” You took his skull in your hands as he nodded and pulled him into a kiss, deepening it as he sighed and wrapped his arms around you.

Mutt guided you back into the mattress with gentle touches. He broke the kiss to go to your neck, nipping you gently with his sharp teeth as he climbed on top of you, and you could feel his hot breath slowly moving over your skin as he breathed you in.

“H-hey, Mutt?” you asked, your cheeks flushed, as one of his hands sat on your waist and his thumb stroked your belly. Your hand found his and you let your fingertips drift gently over his wrist and up the bones of his forearm.

“Hm?” 

“What does… what does my heat smell like?”

Mutt didn’t answer right away. He let himself linger over your neck, then returned to you and kissed you deeply, tasting you to the point where you couldn’t breathe anything but clove before he pulled away. His red eye lights were so hazy it looked like you were viewing them through fog glass.

“It’s like… you smell like a summer’s day.” He sighed, falling to your side and holding you close. “Like when you’re sitting inside with the window cracked and the hot breeze reaches out to you after you’ve been stuck inside for too long. It’s inviting. And with that song of yours, that siren song that you’re starting to sing...” Mutt trailed his fingers up your chest and came to rest at your collarbone, feeling that part of your skeleton through your flesh. “I should… really stop before I get too worked up, shouldn’t I?”

“That… might be a good idea.” You said as you watched Mutt reach over the side of the bed and dig into the pockets of his black hoodie. “I’m sorry, Mutt, I-”

“Don’t you be sorry.” Mutt jabbed his lighter at you and put a black cigarette between his pointed teeth. “If you’re not ready, you’re not ready. I’m not going to push you into it. Do you mind if I smoke?”

“Not at all.”

Mutt nodded appreciatively and lit the stick in his teeth. The end glowed bright purple as he inhaled and as he exhaled a sweet, dark purple smoke leaked from between his pointed teeth and from his eye sockets. “Thanks, Robin. Just promise me you won’t tell Pap. He hates it when I smoke in the house, but that damned snowstorm is putting everything out as soon as I light it.”

You nodded and looked up at the ceiling, thinking about the blizzard. What time was it? Was Axe still out in that?

“What’s on your mind?” Mutt asked, exhaling another cloud of purple smoke over the mattress and onto the cold concrete floor. Of course. He could hear your anxiety, couldn’t he?

“I’m worried about Axe.” you said honestly. “He went out this morning and… I know nothing’s ever happened to him before, but I learned about Ferals last night from Butch and now I keep thinking that… that something might.”

“Butch really told you about him and Axe and all that, huh?” Mutt rolled the cigarette between his teeth with his glowing red tongue as he studied you. “Alright, Robin, come with me. I’ll show you why you have nothing to worry about, but you have to promise me you won’t tell anyone else that you know about it, okay?”

“I promise.” you said immediately and got up with Mutt from the bed. He led you to his computer, sat down, and pulled you into his lap as he woke up the monitor. He held the cigarette between his teeth as he reached over you and entered a long password into the keyboard, then covered your eyes while he navigated with the mouse.

“Alright, this is why you shouldn’t worry.” Mutt took his hand away and you found yourself looking at a sea of white with tons of black lines crisscrossing the monitor.

“I don’t understand.” You said, squinting at the little squares.

“Here, look again.” Mutt clicked a few times with the mouse and one of the tiny squares expanded to fill the screen. Your eyes widened as you recognized the front of the house through the snow. Mutt smirked and pulled up different viewpoints using the mouse and the keyboard. His cigarette bobbed on his teeth as he explained, “There are cameras surrounding the house and out in the woods. I’ve got hundreds of them up in the trees, watching everything. It’s all hooked up to a program I wrote that watches the house and grounds for us. If anything comes around, I know about it.”

“Wait, a program  _ you _ wrote?” Your jaw dropped in astonishment and Mutt flashed a proud grin.

“That’s right.” Mutt tapped the monitor. “I based it off of another one I made for Milord. It has facial recognition so if a stranger walks up, there’s an alarm that goes off. If you’re worried about a Feral, don’t be. Even in this snow it would recognize a strange monster’s face and give me an alert.”

“Are you sure?” You squinted at the screen, at a camera view of the forest. It was still mostly white even though you could just make out the outline of trees.

“Yup.” Mutt’s hand danced across the keyboard and another screen popped up. You could make out brown shapes among the white expanse and they were gathered together against the wind. “See? I just searched by large body movement and found these deer. Axe might like to do it the old fashioned way, but this is way easier, if you ask me.”

“This is really impressive, Mutt.” You said, in awe, and leaned in closer to the screen. If you squinted just a bit, you could just make out the antlers on one of the deer. “You really built this? That can’t have been easy!”

“Nah, it was nothing.” Mutt smirked, a dusting of burnt orange covering his nasal ridge, and slowly cycled through the cameras for your viewing pleasure. “I already wrote the facial recognition program, so it was just getting it to recognize the local wildlife as a non-threat that was the only issue. It still has the occasional problem, like before rut when those deer shed that weird velvet skin on their antlers. It goes nuts. And it didn’t like you for the longest time, either.”

“Me?” You looked up at Mutt and he took his cigarette out of his mouth to avoid burning you.

“Yup. Remember when you first came here? I showed you around the yard.” Mutt ran his other hand through your hair, his eye lights softening as he looked at you. “I did that so that the cameras could have a good look at you. I wanted to be able to teach the program your face if we ended up liking you.”

You smiled at Mutt. “Remember the day I first came back? You met me at the door and opened it before I could knock. I thought you could hear my soul from inside the house.”

“When you got to the door, I could.” Mutt smirked, also remembering that day. “But the sound of your soul doesn’t go as far as you think it does, Robin. I knew you were there because my alarm went off when you started coming up the drive with that box. The program was still learning you; it thought you were something else since you had changed the color of your dress.”

“I’m glad it works so well.” Relief filled you as you looked at the computer screen. If the program Mutt made got upset with changes in deer antlers and clothing colors, it would definitely point out something as abnormal as a Feral, right? “I still can’t believe you wrote a program like this, Mutt.”

“You think this is impressive?” Mutt laughed, once, and jabbed his thumb at the screen. “This is just a couple hundred cameras. I’ve got  _ millions _ down in the Underground, and the main script that runs that beauty took me over a year to write, not to mention overriding all those other programs to reconnect everything and…”

Mutt’s voice trailed off, his red lights dilating in horror as he snapped his jaw shut.

“What?” You asked and looked at the computer screen, wondering if he saw something.

“Robin, listen to me,” Mutt took you by the shoulders and turned you to face him. “You can’t tell anyone that I told you that there are cameras in the Underground, understand?  _ No one can know about that!  _ That network doesn’t officially exist, just like I don’t officially exist!”

“Wait, what do you mean you don’t officially exist?”

“Promise me, Robin!” Mutt’s voice was pitched, panicky, and you nodded your head as you swore your silence. He seemed to relax a little, but the way he hugged you tightly made you feel like he was still afraid of something.

“Mutt, what’s wrong?” You asked, hugging him around his rib cage. “I promise that nothing about this will leave this room. Just talk to me. You look… scared.”

“You don’t know what it’s like where I used to live.” Mutt ate his spent cigarette butt and took out another to light.

“You lived in… District Two?” You asked, straining your memory to remember what Pap had told you. Mutt stared at you, astonished, with his lighter still lit. You stared at the lighter and squirmed uncomfortably until he noticed, lit his cigarette, and placed the lighter away from you near the computer.

“Yeah. District Two.” Mutt inhaled almost half of the cigarette in one huge breath. “The Land of Law.”

“Do you… want to tell me about it?”

Mutt shrugged. “Life there is easy to understand. You do your job and follow the rules, you get rewarded. You don’t, you get punished. You do  _ not _ want to get punished. Sometimes monsters thought they were special, that they could do what they liked and get around the law, but they were always wrong. I was one of those. I like to mess with computers, as you can tell. I thought I could hack into the network and mess around a bit for fun. I did it, but I was sloppy. The other programmer found me out and… I was scheduled to be executed.”

“WHAT?!” You jumped in Mutt’s lap, clinging to his ribs like he was about to disappear.

“I wasn’t, obviously.” Mutt smiled and nuzzled you affectionately, seemingly grateful for your worry. “Milord made an appeal to Queen Cinn directly and negotiated a trade. My talent with coding was obviously superior to the one they had already, so they made a deal. I wasn’t going to be turned to dust for my crime, but my life now belonged to Queen Cinn and the Guard. So I became their hacker, their informant via the belly of the Undernet, and my existence was erased from the Underground. Which, considering everything in District Two is recorded and monitored, was a huge feat. It also meant I couldn’t go outside anymore. Milord had to bring me everything I needed. I didn’t mind so much, I’ve always been kind of a shut in, but I didn’t get to go outside again until we moved out here.”

You hugged Mutt tightly, thankful that he was still here to hug. That you had the chance to meet him in the first place. 

“I really owe Milord for protecting you.” You mumbled. As an afterthought, you realized that what happened to Mutt must be why Milord was such a pain when it came to giving you information. No wonder he was wary of the law, if the law sentenced his brother to death just for hacking some cameras.

“That’s not your debt to pay, Robin.” Mutt tilted your face to his, took his cigarette away, and gave you a small kiss.

“I promise I won’t say anything!” You said firmly, holding Mutt’s gaze as you spoke. You didn’t want him to worry about you, and you didn’t want to worry about what could happen to him if you slipped up. “After this moment, I never saw this program of yours, or heard anything that could get you in trouble. I just came down here to do laundry and give you your present!”

As if to demonstrate this point, you got up and dashed over to the bed to grab the plastic case. When you returned with it, you sat defiantly back into Mutt’s lap and handed the case to him. 

“I love it when you get like that.” Mutt smirked, looking at you fondly. “Defiance is so… sexy.”

“Stop flirting with me and open your present.” you huffed, turning pink. As Mutt opened the case, you explained, “It’s a computer game called ‘Skyrim’. I know you work on the computer a lot, so I was hoping to give you something fun to do on it as well. I don’t play games myself, but the guy at the store said this game has a lot of content and replay-ability, so you should be able to play it for a while if you like it.”

“How do you know me so well?” Mutt smiled at the game and put the disk into his computer tower. With a few strokes on the keyboard, the game was downloading. “I had a game when I was a kid, but it was just some blocks that I had to build into a wall and lines disappeared as I completed them. Stupid, right? But I played that game until I melted the first computer I ever built.”

“How do you melt a computer?”

“You forget to add a new cooling system after you upgrade the processors. And it takes a lot of power to melt a tower that badly.” Mutt smirked as you giggled at him. “What? I told you already I was sloppy when I was younger. I had to learn somehow. I bet you weren’t always such a brilliant baker.”

You laughed. “Nope! I messed up so bad the first time I made chocolate chip cookies, they tasted like chicken.”

Mutt raised a brow at you. “How did you manage that?”

“I thought I had already greased the pan with butter, but I actually forgot to wash the grease away from dinner the night before. Mom was the one who figured out how it happened, but dad ate the cookies anyway.”

“That’s a great man, right there. He has my respect.” Mutt nodded his skull and stood up, carrying you bridal style back towards the bed. At your inquisitive stare Mutt said, “That game you got me is going to take awhile to download. I can’t close any of the other programs to make it go faster, so I’ll just wait with you.”

“You don’t seem like you intend to do any waiting.” you said sarcastically as Mutt set you down and immediately went for your neck again.

“I’ve got to cover up your heat at some point.” Mutt breathed, his hand wandering along the collar of your sweater dress as he laid beside you. “I hate to admit it, but Axe had the right idea.”

“Are you sure you don’t just have some kind of thing where you like to torment yourself?” You asked in between his clove flavored kisses.

“...yeah, I probably do.” Mutt admitted, grinning devilishly at you. “But I don’t hear you complaining. You have an off switch.”

“I don’t think it’s just that anymore,” you bit your lip as Mutt nipped at your soft spot, sending a wave of desire through you that he instantly picked up on.

“I hear what you mean.” he growled and bit you again, his hand travelling down your side and settling at your waist. “Kind of temperamental, isn’t it?”

His hand was crawling under your dress and up your stomach, his fingers exploring every inch of skin as they traveled upwards. When he reached your breast you shuddered at the touch. A small moan escaped you as he teased your sensitive flesh. That noise seemed to be what he was waiting for because at that point he leaned over you to free his other hand. He grabbed you by the hair and pulled your head back to expose your throat to him. You shivered with delight as he gently ran his sharp teeth over your neck, his breath hot on your skin, while his other hand gently squeezed-

There was a knock at his door and you felt Mutt growl angrily against you. He pulled away and shouted, “Kind of busy, bro.”

Axe appeared at the bottom of the stairs, smirking at the two of you. You felt your face redden with embarrassment to be found like this, but at the same time you felt joy at the sight of him. “... lunch is… ready.”

“Do I look like I care at the moment?” Mutt’s red lights narrowed in a glare. You pushed his hand out from under your dress and tried to wiggle out from under him.

“...sucks to be.... interrupted… doesn’t it?” Axe’s smirk widened and his single light narrowed back. You could sense the sparks starting to fly between them.

“Axe!” you said, drawing his attention to you. “I’m so glad you’re back safe! You didn’t find anything bad, did you?”

“...no.” Axe’s single red light glanced at you and then returned to Mutt. “...but I know… what’s out there.”

“Yeah, nothing.” Mutt rolled his eye lights and sat up on the bed, his raspy voice laced with irritation. “So calm your coccyx and stop worrying Robin by running out there in a storm. My system will tell us if there’s anything coming. Unless you’re admitting you fucked up and left a blind spot when placing the cameras?”

“...I see better… than some stupid… machine.” Axe growled, his fists clenched.

“Guys, stop it,” you got between them as Mutt stood up. “There’s no reason to fight about this.”

“Well, your paranoia is stressing out our alpha!” Mutt snapped, ignoring you.

“...she’s not stressed. ...I took care of her… this morning.” Axe smirked again and tugged at his white, threadbare t-shirt to show off his mark, savoring the wide lights of surprise Mutt was looking at him with. “...got further along… than you did.”

“You’re a liar. She’s not letting anyone claim her yet.” Mutt growled.

“...don’t need to claim… to get her off.” Axe wiggled his middle and ring fingers at Mutt. Your face burned with embarrassment. “...you’ve got a lot… to learn… little brother.”

“Son of a…” Mutt’s lights glanced at you. Quietly, he said to himself, “Why didn’t I think of that?”

“...cuz you’re... a dumbass.”

“Alright, knock it off!” You shouted, silencing both of them as they opened their jaws to argue more. “Axe, you shut up about what we did together, there’s no bragging in this pack! And Mutt! Stop using my emotions to justify an argument!”

“But-”

“No buts! I’m perfectly capable of making my feelings known.” You snapped at Mutt, quickly searching your mind for something to keep the two of them from arguing again. “Now either you both say something nice and apologize to each other, or neither of you get to touch me for a week!”

Both of their eye lights widened at you and you glared at them, trying your hardest to hold your ground and keep your heart from going any faster than it already was, hoping your threat would work.

“...sorry, Mutt.” Axe mumbled, his single light darting between you and his brother. “...I... like knowing… your cameras are there… when I’m not.”

“Yeah, well, they wouldn’t work as well as they do if you hadn’t helped me with setup.” Mutt said sheepishly and scratched at his skull. “Sorry for that dig on you, bro.”

They both looked at you as if they wanted approval. You nodded your head, your face warm, and avoided their gazes. “Thank you.”

You let Axe and Mutt lead the way back up the stairs. Their argument had your nerves fluttering about in your stomach. Was this whole pack thing really a good idea? Maybe you just added Axe too early, maybe you weren’t ready to try this. It hadn’t even been a full day and you felt like they were already jealous of each other…

“Lily…!”

Butch rushed you as you appeared in the kitchen after his brothers and hugged you tightly. You blinked in surprise as Butch released you, blushing a slight golden grey, and mumbled, “I… really like… your gift. Thank you…”

“Oh, I’m glad!” Your mood brightened as you remembered the sketchbook and pencils you had left for him. “I was going to give you something else, but I thought that would be better after I saw your drawings. You have some amazing talent, you know that?”

The golden grey flush on his cheekbones deepened and Butch motioned for you to take a seat at the full table. “we’re just about… ready to start. I’ll get you… a plate.”

You settled into an empty seat beside Red, who had his headphones on and was beating the table in front of him with his fingers as he nodded his skull to the beat of whatever song he was listening to. The sight made you smile.

“heard you’ve been giving out gifts, Thyme.” Sans smirked from Red’s other side. “don’t you know Gyftmas is already over?”

“What’s Gyftmas?” You automatically looked to Mutt for an explanation. He smiled at you, his golden fang flashing.

“When the first snowfall of the year comes to the Underground we hand out presents to those we care about.” Mutt said, looking sideways at Axe, “I got a video game.”

“...I got… a book about… birds.” Axe grinned back at Mutt.

“Lily got me… a sketchbook.” Butch added shyly as he brought you and Axe a plate of spaghetti.

“Pap got a puzzle box, but I forgot to give it to him earlier.” You said as Pap gave plates to Sans and Milord. “Sorry about that, Pap. I’ll bring it to you after lunch.”

Pap nodded curtly, avoiding your gaze, and hurried back to the stove. Milord watched him with narrowed eye lights while Butch sat down across from him next to Axe.

“I assume I received some sort of puzzle as well.” Milord huffed and stared at his plate.

“It’s not a puzzle,” you said, leaning forward to see Milord on Sans’ other side. “It’s a chess board. I can teach you how to play, if you don’t know. My dad and I used to play all the time! It’s a great strategy game, I thought you might have some fun with it.”

“As if Milord knows how to have fun.” Mutt snickered. Milord glared at him and Mutt pointed at Red, his smirk widening. “You could learn a thing or two from this idiot.”

Red grabbed the fork from the plate Pap handed him and thrummed it against the table in an epic drum solo, his rough voice barely discernible as he sang along under his breath. Pap reached out and pulled the headphones from his skull.

“don’ touch that yeh fuckin’-” Red growled, snatching the headphones back furiously from Pap’s red mitten.

“WE ARE ABOUT TO EAT!” Pap sat next to Mutt and brandished a fork at Red. “IT’S OBVIOUS YOU ARE ENJOYING HONEY’S GIFT BUT YOU ARE ACTING RIDICULOUS!”

“I don’ give a fuck how I act, yeh don’t touch my shit!” Red snapped while he nestled the headphones safely around his neck bones and in the fur lining of his black hoodie.

“Don’t worry, Sans,” you said, leaning back to smile at the sulking skeleton from behind Red’s back. “I got you something, too. I didn’t leave anyone out.”

“see you later, then?” Sans asked, his lazy smile returning and his white lights sparkling with appreciation.

“Later.” You nodded and turned your attention back to the table as the argument between Red and Papyrus was starting to come to a full boil.

“-NO MANNERS AT ALL!” Pap said animatedly, his hands gesturing angrily with each word. “MEALS ARE THE ONE TIME WE ALL GET TOGETHER, YOU CAN’T JUST IGNORE US THE WHOLE TIME!”

“I’ll ignore yeh if I fuckin’ want to!” Red bristled, starting to rise from his chair, “yeh don’t get teh tell me what to do, yeh loudmouth piece a-”

“Wait!” you squeaked nervously, not wanting a fight to break out. Pap and Red’s eye lights snapped towards you. “Um… we’re not all here. Where’s Edge?”

“SLEEPING.” Pap said irritably, glaring at Red. “HE WORKS NIGHTS, HONEY. EVEN IF HE’S NOT GOING IN BECAUSE OF THE STORM, HE WON’T BE UP UNTIL DINNER.”

“So… shouldn’t we keep it down?” You looked imploringly between Pap and Red.

“I SUPPOSE YOU’RE RIGHT.” Pap huffed and returned to his food. 

“yer just sayin’ that,” Red smirked, his red lights shining with malice, “cuz yeh think if yeh listen to th’ woman, she’ll show yeh those pictures on her phone again.”

“RED!” You barked, fury boiling up as you watched Papyrus flush orange and stare at his plate in embarrassment. Showing those pictures was your mistake, and you felt terrible that it had made Pap so uncomfortable. You were  _ not _ going to let someone use it to hurt him. You grabbed the front of Red’s scarlet turtleneck, pulled him towards your face, and growled, “Don’t you ever mention that again, you hear me?”

“or what?” Red glared at you.

“Or I swear I’ll make you feel just what embarrassment is like!” you hissed, your voice low so that it didn’t carry around the table, “You have some tasty little secrets of your own, you know.”

“y-yeh ain’t got nuthin on me teh use.” Red stuttered, his smirk falling and a crimson flush growing on his cheekbones.

“You want to try me and find out?” You narrowed your eyes at him. “I know some things that your brothers would just  _ love _ to tease you about.”

Red’s eye lights searched your face and you held his gaze. You knew that he was listening to your soul, trying to hear a lie in your words. You weren’t technically lying. You knew his secret love for chocolate. It wasn’t much to threaten him with, but it was a truth regardless and Red could tell that you weren’t bluffing. His gaze fell and you let go of his turtleneck, letting him return to his seat.

“whatever.” he mumbled, stabbing at his food. He turned his face to hide his crimson flush from his brothers, who had all been watching your exchange.

“That’s my girl.” Mutt said, his eye lights hazy as he smiled at you.

You turned slightly pink, matching Red’s determination to hide from all the staring, and mumbled, “Thanks for the food, Pap.”

Pap’s white lights shined at you.

~~~

After lunch, you returned to your room to retrieve the presents you promised Pap and Sans, then returned to the kitchen. You placed the book face down on the table to hide the silver writing and approached Pap at the sink.

“I thought Milord was the one who cleaned?” You asked, watching Pap scrub at a pot. His red mittens lay on the counter and he was instead wearing a pair of yellow rubber gloves.

“HE DOES FOR THE REST OF THE HOUSE.” Pap’s white eye lights found the lacquered, wooden box in your hands and they sparkled with anticipation. “BUT I LIKE TO DO THE DISHES. IT’S THE LEAST I CAN DO SINCE HE WORKS AND I DON’T.”

“I thought you were training to be in the Guard?” you asked and set the box on the marble counter. You went to your cupboard to pull out ingredients while Pap set the last of the clean dishes aside and, after making sure you stayed at a safe distance, pulled off the yellow gloves in favor of his mittens. Even the brief exchange could not stop the flood of brown sugar scent that filled the kitchen.

“I… DECIDED TO STOP.” Pap shifted uncomfortably while he said, “I THOUGHT A LOT ABOUT WHAT YOU SAID AND… YOU ARE RIGHT. IF MY MAGIC DOESN’T WANT TO DO ANYTHING BUT HEAL, THEN I SHALL STOP TRYING TO FORCE IT OTHERWISE.”

“That’s great! I’m really happy to hear that you’re doing that for yourself.” You gave Pap a wide smile and he grinned back. You took Pap’s gift from the counter and handed it to him. “Here, you should take your present before I forget again.”

Papyrus took the box from you, his eye lights shining, and turned it over in his hands. His look went from excited to confused and he said, “HOW IS THIS SUPPOSED TO BE A PUZZLE, HONEY? IT JUST LOOKS LIKE A REGULAR BOX.”

You leaned over his arm to show him the first sliding panel and explained, “There are hidden panels like this all over the box that you have to find, then figure out how they lock together so you can solve it. You shouldn’t have to force anything to get it to open, but once you do, I’ve hidden more for you inside. Just remember that with these kinds of puzzles, it’s not all about taking them apart. It’s about putting them back together, too.”

Pap slid the first panel back, finding the second, and his expression returned to excitement as he found that the first panel now turned at his touch. “THIS IS NEAT! SO YOU’RE SAYING I CAN CONTINUE TO USE IT AS A BOX EVEN AFTER I SOLVE IT?”

“Yup.” You smiled, watching Pap pull up a chair so he could work on the box while you pulled milk and eggs from the fridge.

“WHAT ARE YOU MAKING, HONEY?” Pap asked, though his whole attention was focused on the box and not on your movements.

“Sweet revenge, my dear Pap.” You smirked. Pap glanced up and you bent close to his skull to whisper your plan. “...and I just have to give Sans his gift, first.”

“I KNEW YOU WOULD COME UP WITH SOMETHING.” Pap grinned and leaned close in a conspiratorial manner, “YOU’LL HAVE TO BE CAREFUL HOW YOU SPEAK. HE’LL KNOW IF YOU’RE LYING AND THEN HE’LL SUSPECT.”

“I thought about that already.” You cracked an egg over a bowl and gently separated the yolk and the white while Papyrus returned to the puzzle box. “I’ve got the whole conversation worked out in my head. If I can’t get this to work, then I have no hope at all. I’ll have to admit defeat and beg him to stop.”

“HM, YOU SHOULDN’T HAVE TO DO THAT.” Pap shook the box, testing to see if he could move one of the panels that way, and narrowed his eye lights in frustration when it didn’t work. “I TOLD YOU THAT I WOULD TELL YOU HOW TO GET HIM TO STOP, DIDN’T I? COME HERE, HONEY.”

You set the whisk back into the bowl and returned to Pap. He motioned you closer and you leaned in so he could whisper in your ear. You straightened up, your eyebrow raised in disbelief. “There’s no way that would work.”

“I’VE USED IT MANY TIMES BEFORE.” Pap smirked and focused again on the puzzle box. “BUT DON’T USE IT LIGHTLY AND DON’T TELL MY BROTHERS. IF THEY STARTED USING IT, THEN SANS WOULD SEE IT AS AN EMPTY THREAT AND IT WON’T WORK ANYMORE.”

“I still don’t think he’d stop for that.” You shook your head and added a shot of rum to the bowl before stirring vigorously.

“WELL… YOU’LL HAVE TO MEAN IT.” Pap growled as he struggled with a series of small panels on the box. His mitten kept getting stuck and setting him back. “HE CAN TELL WHEN YOU LIE, SO YOU’LL HAVE TO BE WILLING TO FOLLOW THROUGH IF YOU SAY IT.”

“I consider that more a punishment for me than him, then.” You found a broiling pan beneath the stove and watched Papyrus while you filled it with water. “Pap, if your mittens are getting in the way, why don’t you just take them off?”

“I CAN’T DO THAT!” Pap stared at you incredulously. “DON’T YOU REMEMBER THE LAST TIME YOU WERE AFFECTED BY MY MAGIC? I WON’T DO THAT TO YOU AGAIN!”

“I think this time I’ll be safe.” You said as you poured the creamy contents of the bowl into the pan. “Last time you were actively trying to use your magic to try and heal me, right? I can smell your brother’s magic second hand without any effect. Why should this be different?”

Pap looked at his red mittens, at the box that was frustrating him, and couldn’t seem to decide. You left your baking and set a hand on the shoulder of his white armor.

“You need to practice with your magic somehow, right?” You asked gently, giving him an encouraging smile. “If it does affect me again, all you have to do is pour cold water on me. It doesn’t hurt me at all and I won’t be angry. I promise.”

“WELL…” Pap stood and looked around the kitchen, “AS LONG AS YOU STAY OVER HERE, AND DON’T GET TOO CLOSE, I CAN TRY.”

At your nod, Pap dragged the chair as far away from you as possible and sat back down. He placed the puzzle box in his lap and stared at his mittens. His eye lights glanced at you nervously and you gave him a reassuring nod, then he slowly pulled one of the mittens off. Orange plasma gushed from his bony fingers and the kitchen filled with the smell of brown sugar.

“See? I’m okay.” You smiled and spread your arms to show Pap that everything was fine. “Nothing to worry about.”

Pap gave you an anxious half smile and removed the other mitten. His white eye lights continuously darted back to you, even as he resumed working on the puzzle box, to check that his magic wasn’t affecting you in any way.

In an effort to show Pap that you were perfectly fine, you returned to making your dessert. Somewhere between you putting the pan in the oven and starting on the topping at the counter you noticed the smell of brown sugar faded slightly. Once you put the mound of whipped cream into the fridge to chill you glanced over to check on Pap.

With his focus returned entirely to the box, Pap’s magic had started to fade from his hands and was dripping less and less plasma. You watched proudly as he figured out the interlocking panels. 

“What are you thinking about?” you asked quietly, trying not to grab his attention too much.

“I’M TRYING TO FIGURE OUT HOW THIS WAS BUILT, OF COURSE.” Pap said as he turned the box upside down to rotate a panel. “I LIKE BUILDING THESE KINDS OF THINGS, BUT THIS BOX IS FASCINATING. I NEVER WOULD HAVE THOUGHT OF SOMETHING LIKE THIS.”

“You mean build puzzles?”

“YES!” Pap exclaimed with joy as the box popped open. He puffed his chest out proudly and eagerly took out the other puzzles inside. “I USED TO MAKE MY OWN TO PASS THE TIME IN THE UNDERGROUND, BUT THESE GIFTS OF YOURS MAKE ME WANT TO START MAKING THEM AGAIN.”

“I think you should. The focus seems to be good for you.” You said as you slowly walked around to peer over Pap’s shoulder. “If you haven’t noticed, you’ve stopped leaking magic.”

Pap jumped in his seat when he found you standing so close to him. His skull whipped around, glancing between you and his hands, and his white lights widened with awe. But even as he watched, orange magic slowly started to return, to gather and pool in his palms. His shoulders sagged with disappointment and you slithered your arms around his shoulders for a loose hug.

“What are you thinking now?” You asked.

“THAT YOU’RE… MAKING ME NERVOUS.” Pap admitted with a small flush across his nasal ridge.

“Why?”

“BECAUSE I WANT YOU TO LIKE ME AND I’M AFRAID THAT YOU WON’T IF MY MAGIC KEEPS DOING THIS.”

“Pap, I already like you.” You gave him a small squeeze as he watched orange plasma spill through his fingers. “You don’t need to be nervous. Your magic isn’t going to stop me from wanting to be around you.”

“BUT YOU’RE AFRAID OF RED’S MAGIC.” Pap turned his skull to look at you and his flush deepened when he saw how close your face was to his. “I DON’T… WANT THAT TO HAPPEN WITH ME.”

“I’m not afraid of Red’s magic.” You sighed, a little light headed. “I’m afraid of the smell. I don’t like smoke. It reminds me of fire and I’m afraid of fire.”

“HONEY, YOU SHOULD BACK UP A LITTLE BIT.” Pap’s whole skull flushed orange as you nuzzled him affectionately. 

“What, you want me to tell you about that day?” You giggled and leaned heavily into Pap. You began to run your fingers over his white chestplate as a feeling of euphoria began to fill you. “Seven years ago-”

“NO, I THINK YOU’RE BREATHING TOO MUCH MAGIC.” Pap quickly pulled his mittens back on and stood up. He set the puzzles aside on the table and picked you up off the floor as easily as you would pick up a pillow.

“Nahhh, I’m fine.” You giggled again as Pap turned on the faucet. “I don’t - hey!”

Pap stuck your head beneath the freezing water. You sputtered and kicked against him, but he refused to pull you back out until your head was completely drenched.

“I’M SORRY, HONEY,” he said nervously as he set you back on the floor and turned off the water. You wiped your face clean and shook the water from your ears. “DON’T BE ANGRY, BUT YOU WERE STARTING TO GET WEIRD.”

“I’m… okay, Pap.” You wrung your hair out into the sink, feeling only slightly disappointed from the lack of magic in your system. “I’m not mad. Really,” you added, seeing the look of apprehension on Pap’s skull.

“MAYBE I SHOULD… WORK ON THESE UPSTAIRS.” Pap returned to the kitchen table to pack the puzzles back into the box. “IF I NEED TO USE MY BARE HANDS TO SOLVE THEM, YOU SHOULDN’T BE CLOSE TO ME.”

“That won’t be forever though, right?” you asked as Pap picked up the book on the table to examine. “Just until you get a better grip on your magic, which I know you can do.”

Pap set the book down and turned towards you, his white lights soft, and crossed the length of the kitchen in a few long strides to stand in front of you. He adjusted the box in his arms nervously. You watched him curiously and noticed the orange flush growing across his nasal ridge as he fidgeted.

Maybe he finally worked up his nerves, because he reached out to hold your chin in one hand while he quickly bent down and pressed his teeth to your forehead for a quick kiss. He straightened up, avoided your eyes, and said, “THANKS FOR BELIEVING IN ME, HONEY.”

“Always will,” you called after Pap as he fled the kitchen. You chuckled to yourself, still slightly giddy from the magic. Pap was just too damn sweet for his own good. Maybe you should bake him cookies again, soon.

You wandered back over to the oven to check your dessert and, seeing that it was just about finished, pulled it out of the oven to cool on the counter. You wiped your damp face with the oven mitts, wondering if you had enough time to change before finding Sans. With a groan you remembered that all of your clothes were in the basement; dirty. 

Resolving to do laundry after your fun, you dried your sweater dress the best you could with the towel on the oven door before heading back up the oak stairs. Excitement filled you as you climbed each step. You were finally going to get back at him. You finally thought of a brilliant prank. All you had to do was stay calm, he would know if you got too excited…

The knock on Sans’ door was answered with a low, “who’s there?”

“Thyme.”

“Thyme who?”

“Thyme for your present, Sansie boy.” you giggled.

“Sansie boy?” Sans chuckled as he answered his door and peered out from his dark room.

“Sorry,” you shook your head like you were trying to knock the last of the magic loose. “I got a good whiff of Pap’s magic and I’m still a little… weird.”

“no kidding.” Sans chuckled again and his gaze fell to your hands. “so where’s this present you were telling me about?”

“Downstairs in the kitchen. It’s a two parter,” you added at Sans’ raised brow. “I made you dessert, too. I was going to save it for after dinner, but since your favorite flavor is vanilla I thought you’d like to try it fresh.”

“oh really?” Sans’ suspicious white lights searched your face. “trying to lure me downstairs, huh? don’t think I haven’t noticed you haven’t pranked me back yet. did you put honey on the banister? or did you hide bubble wrap under the rug in the entryway?”

“Nope.”

“do you have one of my brothers hiding to try and scare me? or did you cut the back legs off one of the chairs at the table?”

“Nope.” You shook your head, internally cursing as you heard his ideas. They were good.

“or maybe you’re going to hit me with a water balloon full of syrup and then douse me with feathers from a pillow?”

“All I want to do is give you your present and give you dessert.” You said, staring into his eye lights. He couldn’t find anything in those words, you weren’t lying, but your heart was still starting to race…

“why are you so excited, then?” Sans asked with a smirk on his skull, following you downstairs.

“Because I want to know what you think of what I made.” You tried to say casually, but it still came out a bit too fast. In an attempt to recover you added, “I haven’t made this kind of custard in awhile, and vanilla is a delicate flavor. I’m hoping I wasn’t too heavy handed with the rum and made it too spicy.”

“did you make it spicy on purpose?” Sans’ eye lights narrowed as you stopped at the table.

“Nope.” You smirked, knowing full well that you didn’t try to lay and trap within the custard. Sans nodded at you and you and handed him the book. “Here, this is your present.”

He turned the black book over and traced the silver writing with his bony fingertip. With a lazy grin, he flipped it open and scanned one of the star charts on the page.

“You said when we were on the roof that I lent you one in another timeline. I thought I would do better this time around and actually give you the book to own. I hope next time we go stargazing you can teach me more about them.”

“next time?” Sans’ white lights shined with excitement and you felt your own grin widen with his.

“Maybe after the storm is over.” You winked at him and took the book out of his hands to place back on the table. It wouldn’t do if it got ruined. You pulled him over to the marble counter. “Come on, I want you to try this dessert I made! It’s a vanilla-rum custard. I think you’ll like it a lot!”

“...straight from the pan?” He asked, checking the custard out. “or is the whole thing mine?”

“No, you’ll have to share, so grab a plate.” You pointed at the cupboards. He watched you suspiciously and you rolled your eyes. “There’s no trap in the cupboards. Just plate some for yourself while I grab the topping from the fridge.”

“you know, I thought you would’ve tried to get me back by now.” Sans sighed, shaking his head with disappointment. “it’s not much of a prank war if I’m the only one playing.”

“You definitely have a lot of ideas.” You smirked, pulling the tin of whipped cream from the fridge. You glanced over your shoulder to make sure Sans had his back to you before slinking up behind him, poised to strike. “Why don’t you turn around so I can give you a taste of the topping?”

“shouldn’t I-” Sans looked away from the counter and you smacked him in the face with the pie tin, spraying whipped cream everywhere. The tin slid away and clattered to the floor, sending more cream across the tile, and you howled with laughter at the look of surprise on Sans’ skull.

“Got you!” you wheezed, clutching the counter to stay standing. Sans reached up and wiped cream out of his sockets, stared at his hands, and joined in with his tumbling, melodic laughter.

“good one,” he admitted once you both could finally breathe. “you just forgot one tiny thing, Thyme.”

“What’s that?” you looked up to see Sans wiping cream off his face, gathering it in his hands. Your smile fell.

“the aftermath!” Sans jumped at you, laughing maniacally as he smeared your face with the whipped cream. You tried to get away, but he pinned you to the counter and kept up his attack.

“Retaliation!” You shouted and hit him back with a dollop you had scooped off your shoulder.

The more you threw the whipped cream back and forth, the more air left the topping, until you and Sans were covered in streaks of what amounted to thickened milk and sugar. You reached for the floor, thinking to scoop up what little ammo remained to be thrown, and slipped in a puddle. Sans’ hand shot out and caught you. He pulled you back up by the elbow, where you then looked at each other and took in just how much of a mess you both had made. Both of you burst out in joyous hysterics; your combined laughter echoing around you and into the entryway.

You leaned against the counter, gasping for air, and watched Sans wipe a drop of plasma from his socket as he, too, leaned against the marble. He looked so happy, so carefree in that moment, that you couldn’t help but feel a warm glow of affection rise to join your already flushed cheeks. Sans’ tumbling laughter slowly faded and his eye lights found you.

“what?” he asked, the beginnings of a blue flush just barely visible under the cream smeared across his skull.

“I really like your laugh.” You giggled without really thinking about your words. His blue flush deepened and his eye lights softened as they looked at you.

“well, you’ve got a great sense of humor.” Sans chuckled nervously and wiped at your blue sweater dress. The motion had good intentions, but it only spread the deflated cream around. “I can’t remember the last time I had that much fun.”

“Says the guy who remembers everything. Don’t forget to try the custard, too.” You joked and grabbed the towel from the oven. You offered it to Sans, who wiped his face before handing it back to you. When you had cleared your face of cream and looked at Sans again he was staring at his wrist, at the plastic bracelet stuck to the cuff of his hoodie via creamed sugar. His expression was thoughtful. “You okay, Sans?”

“yeah…” he drifted off, still staring at the bracelet, his eye lights hazy. His gaze drifted to the floor, looking around at the mess you had made. “so... since I fell for it, I should probably clean all this up.”

“I’ll help you. It’s my mess, too.”

“don’t worry about it. I was kind of hoping...” Sans hesitated, then asked, “maybe after I’m done in here, and we’re both cleaned up, would you want to watch a movie before dinner?”

“Sure!” You smiled. “I’ll head back upstairs and…”

The smile on your face slowly fell. All your clothes were all in your duffel bag, downstairs, and dirty. Actually, you had one dress left in your dresser…

“what’s wrong?” Sans asked, his voice filled with concern. No doubt he could hear the slight bit of panic that filled you at the thought of wearing the sundress.

“N-nothing,” you stammered, thinking quickly. “I just left my clothes downstairs. You aren’t going to care if I hang out in dirty sweats, right?”

Sans’ white eye lights flickered once, twice, and then he rolled them at you. “do you really think  _ I’m _ going to care what you wear? have you seen how I keep my room?”

You sighed in relief. Sans was definitely the last person who would judge you about your clothes. “Thank you, Sans. I’ll get cleaned up and meet you in my room in say, half an hour?”

“give or take.” Sans grinned and flicked his finger at the hall. A mop and bucket soared into the kitchen, surrounded by blue plasma, and the scent of damp wood filled the kitchen as the mop slid across the floor.

“Want me to throw anything in for you?” You asked, gesturing at his filthy blue hoodie. Sans took it off one handed and tossed it to you, still conducting the mop.

Tucking the hoodie beneath your arm, you opened the basement door and descended the creaky, wooden steps, calling out to Mutt as you went down to let him know you were there.

He didn’t answer you until you had reached the bottom of the steps and you quickly saw why. He was sitting at his computer, the light from the screen causing the bones not covered by his orange t-shirt to glow slightly. The screen itself featured a character in robes, running around a ruined stone tower as it chased a dragon in the sky.

“Having fun?” You asked as you approached the computer, a huge grin on your face while you watched Mutt jab at the keyboard to make the character cast a bolt of lightning at the dragon.

“Robin! This game is amazing!” Mutt rolled a cigarette between his teeth, smoke leaking from his mouth as he spoke. “I just made it to this place called ‘Whiterun’ and there’s-” Mutt cut himself off after he glanced at you. His fingers moved across the keys and the game paused while he turned his swivel chair to face you. “What the hell happened to you?”

“Prank war.” You shrugged, holding up Sans’ hoodie as evidence.

Mutt gave you a raspy laugh and turned back towards the game. “Looks like you won.”

“I think it was a tie, we both look like this. Glad you’re having fun, too.” You kissed the top of Mutt’s skull and went to search the room for your duffel bag.

The problem was, you couldn’t find it in Mutt’s room. It wasn’t where you left it, or by the bed, or even among the random piles of laundry. Feeling slightly panicky again, you checked the tiny laundry room and found it sitting on top of the white counter, deflated and empty. The washing machine chugged beside you and your stomach sank as you watched a sudsy red sleeve go by the window in the lid.

“Mutt,” you called back towards the computer, “did you do my laundry?”

“Yeah,” he called back. “You forgot to throw it in when you went upstairs so I did it.”

“Did you separate anything?”

“No, why?”

You poked your head out into the basement. “Do you have anything I can borrow?”

“Nope, sorry. Since you only brought down half a load, I threw my stuff in with it.”

You slipped back into the laundry room, feeling the color drain from your face. Your hands shook slightly as you lifted the lid to the washing machine and stuffed Sans’ hoodie inside.

All you had left was the sundress. You couldn’t wear it, it was too much, you would be too bare without sleeves or leggings to cover your scars. With a small jolt of memory, you dived for your duffel bag and unzipped one of the side pockets. Milord’s gift was still there. You still had some coverage left to you.

But it wasn’t much, and the thought of anyone seeing you in the sundress terrified you.

Milord was right, you should have bought more clothes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you all had fun with this chapter! I sure as hell did :D
> 
> So... small heads up to you lovelies... I'm going to be moving at the end of this month, so my time for writing will be cut down on quite a bit until all of that chaos has died down. I'll do my best to stick to my regular schedule, but please forgive me if I can't. I appreciate your patience and understanding. <3
> 
> On another note, last chance to vote for who gets the first official time. I may not have time to sit down and write too much, but you can be damned sure that i'm going to work on chapter outlines for when I get back. Thank you for your thoughts!


	13. Ch 13 - Exposed

Ch 13 - Exposed

They had told you that your scars looked like roses, that they were beautiful. But as you wiped the fog from your shower off of the mirror and examined your reflection, all you could see were marks from the fire; angry and red. The white leggings with the black ivy pattern hid your legs, and the bell of the dress was long enough to cover what the leggings could not, but the dark green sundress could not hide your shoulder and right arm with its thin spaghetti straps. Nor could the near backless design ever hope to cover the corset of red scars across your back. Why did you buy this stupid thing? Why didn’t you get something else, literally anything else?

The bright red, embroidered poppies on the hem of your dress caught your eye. You had bought the dress because it was beautiful, because you wanted to feel that way, too. You wanted to see your scars like Mutt and Butch did and bought this dumb dress because you wanted to be able to wear it one day.

Now you were forced into wearing it. Not that you hadn’t exhausted your options: Mutt's clothes were in the laundry with yours. Butch and Axe didn't have any to spare. Sans was nowhere to be found. (You assumed he was in the other bathroom across from Butch's room, taking a shower.) Pap refused to open his door with his room full of magic. You didn't want to ask Milord since he had already told you to buy more clothes beforehand (and you were still confused about that close moment you shared.) That left only Edge, who you knew not to bother, and Red, who didn't answer your knocks at his door.

Why didn't you do laundry earlier? All you could feel when you looked in the mirror was fear and shame.

Maybe if it was just those two, the ones who had already seen you, it would be different, but Sans had asked if he could come up and spend time with you. You didn’t want to cancel on him, not when it seemed like you both were finally starting to connect after that night on the roof. He had never asked to do anything with you before; this seemed like a big deal.

There had to be another way. Sans didn’t care what you wore, right? If he was alright with the idea of you wearing dirty sweats, then he should be fine with anything. And if he was fine with anything…

You opened up your bathroom door, mulling over your idea. The door across the hall was open and you froze as you made eye contact with Red. He knelt at a wall socket in his room, a pair of rechargeable batteries in one hand and his cd player in the other. You felt your face flush with embarrassment as his crimson eye lights drifted over your dress, your leggings, and to the stripe of scars across your right arm. A fountain of panic overflowed in your chest and you slapped your hand over your bicep, to hide what you could of your ruined flesh, and ran for your door, your face burning with shame as you felt his lights on your back.

The door slammed shut behind you and you leaned against it, screaming internally with panic. You didn’t want anyone to see you, but Red had. And you had just gotten angry at him, threatened him, at lunch because of his attitude towards Pap. What if he said something? What if he told all his brothers, just to get back at you and give  _ you _ a taste of embarrassment?

You dashed up the narrow steps, your face burning with shame. You just wanted to hide, and hide you did as you dove under your covers and wrapped the sheets around your body.

You tried to take deep breaths to calm your frayed nerves, but your mind kept fighting itself. One part kept reminding you of the eyes of those people while you were at the hospital, their looks of revulsion and their cutting words of disgust that they didn't bother to whisper as they avoided you. The other kept showing you soft red and white lights; reminders of gentle touches and proclamations of beauty and strength and pride. The echoes of acceptance and hate clashed against each other and your ears started to ring.

Your fingers pulled at your hair and hot tears ran down your cheeks as you listened to the war raging in your head. Neither side seemed to be winning and you felt a band of panic tighten around your lungs. The edges of your vision turned dark, like you were looking at the world through a long tunnel.

“Window… dresser.” You mumbled things you could see to yourself, desperately trying to suck in a deep breath past that tightening band to slow your racing heart. “Books, garlic, leggings. Four to touch. Ivy, poppies, sheets, and hair.”

As you counted down with your senses, you felt your panic dissipate slightly. By the time you reached one, you were calm enough to think again. You wanted to cover yourself and you could do that. Dad's leather jacket, your jacket, was downstairs hanging on the wall. You could go get it. Standing up from the mattress, you slid the sheet from your bed and carefully wrapped it around your shoulders like a giant, trailing shawl. You examined the effect in the snow filled, circular window and forced a weak smile.

Who cares if you were wearing sheets with your clothes, or if the sheets trailed on the floor? No one could see your scars and that was good enough for you. Just knowing that you were covered completely sent a flood of calm through you. It extinguished any residual flames of panic and you finally heard the pounding on your door.

“open this fuckin’ door right now or I’m fuckin’ breakin’ it down!” Red shouted from the other side. You quickly descended the narrow stairs and turned the handle.

Red shoved the door open with another hammering fist and you fell back onto the staircase. He looked livid - the light was gone from his sockets, there was a bloodthirsty snarl on his skull, and crimson plasma leaked from his hands. You quickly pulled the sheet up over your nose as he took a step towards you.

“who did it?” He growled quietly, but you could hear the barely controlled fury in his words. “who th’ fuck hurt yeh, Dollface? give me names, l’m gonna tear them limb from fuckin’ limb.”

“I d-don’t-” you’re voice quaked as Red grabbed you by the sheet and hauled you to your feet so that you were eye level with him.

“shut up. don’ give me bullshit.” he growled. Cold fear seeped into your veins as you looked into his black sockets. “I heard yer soul screamin’, n’ yer arm an’ yer back look like they were ripped wide open!”

Red’s words hit you like a slap to the face. He had definitely seen your scars and he thought they looked like bloody flesh wounds. Tears welled up in your eyes again as the hurt twisted in your heart like a knife wound.

“who did it?” he growled again.

You smacked his bony hand away from your sheet shawl, your heart breaking as tears streamed down your red cheeks. “No one, asshole! Those are my scars, but thanks for letting me know I look like I’ve been mauled!”

Red’s scowl vanished and his crimson lights popped back on in his sockets. “no, I didn' mean-”

You roughly shoved Red away from the stairs and slammed your door in his face. You barely made it as far as the top of the narrow staircase before you dropped to your knees and sobbed.

Another knock drifted up the staircase.

“Go AWAY Red!” You shouted.

“it’s… uh, Sans?”

You sniffed loudly, wiped your face on the end of your sheet, and returned down the steps to your door. Sans stood on the other side in a clean white t-shirt and black basketball shorts; a mug in one hand and a bottle of ketchup in the other.

“sorry I’m late,” he said guiltily as he offered you the mug, his white lights searching your face. “I wouldn’t have gone to get drinks if I knew you’d be this upset.”

“It’s not you.” you sniffed again and took the mug. The smell of instant coffee drifted up to tickle your nose and you motioned for Sans to follow you up the stairs.

“I’m guessing it’s not because you decided to dress like a ghost?” Sans joked and, seeing that his joke fell flat, asked in a more serious tone, “what happened?”

“Red’s a fucking jerk!” You snapped and sat on your bed, careful not to spill your coffee as you wiped more tears from your face. Sans sat next to you and sipped his ketchup thoughtfully. Out of the corner of your eye you saw him raise his hand, like he was going to rest it on your shoulder, but his eye lights glanced at the scars he would’ve touched and seemed to think better of it.

“well, if it makes you feel any better,” Sans said slowly as he lowered his hand, “when I was at your door, it sounded like he’s in the middle of trashing his room. whatever happened, I don’t think he’s happy about it either.”

In your hurt, your anger, you said, “Good. Let him suffer.”

Sans raised a bony brow at you. “you don’t mean that.”

“Yes, I do.” you said stubbornly.

“...wanna talk about it?”

“No.” You grumbled and sipped your coffee. Sans nodded and drank from his ketchup bottle, his white lights exploring your room as silence fell between you. Your grip tightened on your mug. Sans knew about your scars, he knew how sensitive you were about them. He was always so understanding about everything. You could feel that your hurt was turning into anger and you wanted to stay angry at Red. You wanted Sans to tell you that was okay.

You launched into a heated explanation, your voice getting louder as you felt your indignation grow.

“-and I know I got on his case about how he was talking to Pap, but he made me feel as though I look like… like some kind of murder victim!” you finished, pink in the face from reliving the humiliation.

Sans took another sip of ketchup and didn’t say anything for quite some time. When he finally did, his low voice took its time, like he was still thinking about what he wanted to say. “Red… doesn’t really think things through. he means well, but it doesn’t always come out in the best way. especially when he gets angry. I’m not saying what he said about your scars was right,” he added quickly at the angry look on your face, “but if you ask me, it sounds like he was trying to look out for you.”

You stared into your coffee mug, feeling your boiling anger slowly reduce to bubbling guilt. Sans was right. When you thought back on what Red said, it really did sound like he was trying to protect you. But all you had heard was what he said about your scars.

“you weren’t trying to show him your scars, right?” Sans asked gently. You shook your head. “then why did you let him see?”

“I wasn’t trying to,” you mumbled. “It was an accident. All my other clothes are dirty from your pranks.”

“what happened to your sweats?”

“Everything’s in the washing machine. All except this stupid sundress.”

Sans winced. “eh, sorry about the messy pranks. I was just trying to help you control your heat.” You raised your eyebrow and he explained, “this isn’t my first go around. I picked up on the scent before anyone, even Axe. water washes the smell away and I knew some of my bros would have a bit of a hard time controlling themselves until they got used to it. I didn’t think you’d be so bad at keeping up on laundry.”

“I don’t have a lot of clothes.” You picked at the red poppies on the hem of your dress and Sans’ white lights drifted down to watch your fingers. “Only enough for a week. With how much I moved around after getting out of the hospital, it was too much of a bother to keep any more.”

“so this sundress,” Sans’ lights drifted over the dark green bell, the only part not hidden by your sheet shawl, “why would you buy it if it makes you uncomfortable?”

“What, you don’t know why?”

“nope.” Sans shook his skull. “this is new. a lot of things you’ve done recently are new.”

“What do you mean?”

“you kept your promise and opened up about your past.” Sans ticked the points off his fingers, the bottle of ketchup wedged between his knees, “you got physical with Mutt, and you decided to become an alpha. now this dress. none of it has happened before. you’re veering so far away from the previous timelines I honestly have no idea what’s going on. there’s hardly any overlap anymore.”

“Really?” Your eyebrows shot up in surprise. “But you were right about talking about that day, that it would be good for me. How could you know that if it hasn’t happened before?”

“it was a good guess. I told you my reasoning already.” Sans shrugged and took another swig of ketchup. “I don’t need to rely on the timelines to give advice.”

“I’m sorry, you’re right.” you mumbled, feeling bad for asking such a question. “But then what do you think I should do? About Red?”

“you already know what you need to do with him.” Sans said and leaned back on his elbows. “what I still want to know is why you bought that dress if you’re so afraid of us seeing your scars.”

You squirmed uncomfortably and pulled your sheet tighter around your shoulders. “After I told Mutt and Butch about the fire, I showed them my scars. They… they said they were beautiful. I got the dress because I wanted to see them that way, too.”

“the fire?” Sans asked, his voice hesitant. You looked him over with an appraising eye and decided it was okay to tell him. He had, after all, done nothing but help you.

“I won’t get too far into it,” you said quietly, looking at the poppies on your dress to avoid his white eye lights, “But I was in a house fire. It killed my parents and left me with burns all over my body. I’ve… gotten a lot of negative reactions from people about my past and my scars, so having those two accept them was really big for me.”

Sans put his bony hand over yours and gave you a reassuring squeeze.

“I really wanted to wear this dress one day.” You said sadly, opening up the sheet just enough so that Sans could see it without you revealing your right arm or back. “I would love to be able to wear things like this again. I just… I don’t think I’m ready for that yet. Especially after how Red reacted after seeing them.”

You looked up just in time to see the dusting of blue cross Sans’ nasal ridge as he looked over your outfit. He turned away, scratching at his skull to hide the color, and took another swig of ketchup.

“in my experience,” he said, turning back to you once the color faded from his skull, “people tend to react more dramatically to a big secret, especially if they haven’t been led up to it. you said you told Mutt and Butch everything before you showed them your scars, right? so you gave them time to prepare for it. you’re not the only one with scars, Thyme.” Sans added at the questioning look on your face, “I know you’ve seen some of them. Milord and Edge have slashes across their sockets. Axe has a hole in his skull. you were caught off guard when you first saw those, weren’t you?”

“Yeah…” you nodded, not seeing the point Sans was trying to make.

“but you don’t really see those marks now, do you?” Sans took another sip of ketchup and continued, “you know they’re there, but you don’t freak out every time you see them. it’s just like us talking about the timelines. you needed to process that at first, but now you and I can talk about it no problem.”

“So, you’re saying I should tell everyone about the fire?” you felt your stomach drop to the floor at the thought.

“no.” Sans shook his skull to emphasize. “I’m not saying that at all. but if you really want to walk around with your scars out, you need to start somewhere. give my brothers a chance to get used to them so they don’t freak out like Red did.”

As you sipped your coffee, you thought back to the first time you had put on the poppy dress in the privacy of your room. You had similar thoughts yourself, about slowly showing your scars, but you didn’t feel the bravery to act on them and so you had just hidden the dress away.

“You’re right,” you sighed, swirling the coffee in your mug. “But I think this dress is too much. Maybe if it were just my arm, maybe even my shoulder, too, I could do it. But it’s too low cut in the back. I just want to put on my jacket and cover it all.”

Sans leaned forward and looked over the sheet thoughtfully. You noticed his curiosity and waited for him to ask to see, but he didn’t. He leaned back again and stared at the ceiling in a silent refusal to push you further than you wanted. That more than anything, his respect for your privacy, made you feel comfortable enough to slowly slide the sheet away.

“What… do you think?” you asked shyly, your face red as you gradually turned so Sans could see the scars on your arm and shoulder; on your back. “Do you…?”

Sans didn’t say anything as he carefully examined you, and his silence made you nervous. Sensing this, he said, “they don’t look as bad as you think, Thyme. it just looks like someone spilled a bunch of ketchup on you. should I tell Pap we can do hotdogs for dinner?”

“Sans!” you punched his bony arm, smirking slightly as you appreciated the small joke.

Sans smiled back, a small chuckle escaping him as he rubbed his arm. “I have an idea, Thyme. do you think you can handle showing just your arm and shoulder? if you want me to grab your jacket instead, just say so.”

“What did you have in mind?” you asked as Sans got to his feet. He handed you the ketchup bottle and disappeared with a wink, leaving behind the smell of damp wood to drift across your room.

While you sat waiting for Sans to return, you took a curious sip out of the ketchup bottle. The concentrated tang of the tomatoes overwhelmed your tongue and you took a hasty gulp of coffee to wash the strong undertones of vinegar away. How could Sans drink this straight? Was it like mustard for Red and was actually alcoholic to him?

Sans reappeared in front of you with a bundle of red cloth in his hands. He motioned for you to stand and he stretched the fabric out - it was Pap’s scarf.

With his blue magic aiding him, Sans wrapped Pap’s scarf around your waist like a very wide belt. As he finished tying a neat bow at the back, he stepped back to admire the affect and said, “try that. I can’t see anything on your lower back at all, so that might be enough coverage for you.”

You set the ketchup and coffee on your dresser and went to the circular window, turning this way and that to search your reflection for any scars. All you could see was the stripe on your arm, and the wide line leading down your shoulder where the beam had pinned you. On top of that, you noted with delight, the red scarf went well with the dark green of the dress and showed off your waistline.

“It’s perfect, Sans!” you squealed and pulled him into a tight hug, kissing the top of his skull. “Thank you, you wonderful, amazing-”

“it’s just a scarf.” Sans chuckled and patted you on the back. “though if you ask me, I kind of liked the toga look.”

“Why’s that?”

“cuz it looked like you didn’t give a sheet.”

You snorted with mirth and Sans joined in with his tumbling laugh.

“So, I have another question for you.” you said as you broke out of the hug to search for your phone. Sans sat back on the bed, ketchup bottle in hand, and took a sip. “Does ketchup work the same as mustard for you, or…?”

Sans’ bony finger tapped the glass bottle thoughtfully. “if I had to compare it, it’s like the difference between beer and liquor for you humans.”

“So you’re not trying to get smashed?” you smirked playfully and leaned against your propped up pillow, patting the spot on the bed next to you. Sans crawled up, mindful of his ketchup bottle, and took his seat by your side while you searched for a movie.

“nothing wrong with a drink now and then to relax.” Sans’ eye light flickered by way of a wink and he took another sip of ketchup. “or steady the nerves.”

“What, I make you nervous?”

“...maybe a little bit.” Sans admitted, a slight blue flush on his nasal ridge as he added, “especially when I think we’re just hanging out and come to find you’re dressed for a date.”

You turned pink and flicked your finger to quickly scroll past the romantic comedies. “Then how come you and your brothers don’t get drunk when you eat spaghetti?”

“it’s the vinegar that messes us up, not the tomato.”

“So if you drank straight vinegar…?”

“I’d be super smashed.” Sans smirked. “and you don’t want to see me super smashed.”

“Why’s that?”

“because I turn into a major bro.”

“I’m kind of curious, to be honest.” You chuckled and selected an old black and white movie, ‘The Count of Monte Cristo’. “I can’t picture you drunk off your ass, but I bet you’re hilarious.”

Sans shrugged vaguely and flicked his finger to summon your coffee mug from the dresser. It floated over on a cloud of blue plasma, settling gently in your open hand. You thanked Sans and took a sip, smiling to yourself as he leaned his skull on your bare shoulder to watch the movie play on your phone. You eventually rested your head against the top of his skull, your cheeks warm.

_ ‘Life is a storm, my young friend. You will bask in the sunlight one moment, be shattered on the rocks the next. What makes you a man is what you do when that storm comes. You must look into that storm and shout as you did in Rome.’ _

~~~

The credits rolled across the screen as a low, mournful horn played. Violins and a harp joined the soft dirge and you lifted your head to look at Sans.

“What did you think of the movie?” You asked. Sans didn’t reply. You leaned slightly to look at his face and saw that his eye sockets were closed; he had fallen asleep on your shoulder.

Smiling, you let the quiet instrumental play and leaned your head back on the pillow to listen. That movie was one of your favorites, though it always made you slightly sad by the end of it. 

It was a brilliant story. You always rooted for Dante to get back at the man who wrongly imprisoned him, but he always neglected his love, Mercedes, in his pursuit of revenge. The thought that someone would care more for revenge than love is what made your heart ache. Maybe it was because you had never been so wronged by another person, but you couldn’t agree with Dante’s choice.

But like Dante, you had stumbled into that trap of life. You had been so focused on what hurt you that you didn’t hear the words that told you they cared.

You never wanted to be a Dante. Love was worth more than revenge, or anger, any day. 

As soon as you could, you would have to speak to Red. You didn’t want to let that one bad moment destroy the friendship you were starting to build together.

Sans shifted in his sleep and his arm came to rest over your waist. You set a gentle hand on his forearm and stroked the smooth bones with your thumb, thinking about earlier. He was always so good to you. Even though he had told you how he felt about you that night on the roof, he never tried to push those feelings on you. 

You remembered the words he said to you in the kitchen when you were both covered in chocolate. That he didn’t care what you did, if you loved any of his other brothers, he just didn’t want you to hurt anymore. As you watched him sleep, affection filling your chest like warm water, you wanted to make sure he didn’t have to hurt either. You cared too much about him to let that happen.

“Sans,” you said gently, shaking his arm. “Wake up, the movie’s over.”

“already?” Sans mumbled, his white lights fuzzy as he opened his sockets. “they just got to the cliffs…”

“You fell asleep, bonehead.” you giggled. Sans sat up and rubbed at a socket with his knuckle, yawning loudly. “Couldn’t even stay awake for the whole thing, huh? Was it boring?”

“no, it was good.” Sans gave you a lazy smile and turned his fuzzy lights on you. “I’m just tired. sorry, Thyme.”

“It’s okay.” You shrugged, smiling too, and turned off your phone. “If you want, we can watch it again sometime so you can see the ending.”

“...I’d like that.”

“It’s a date, then.” you said, slightly pink. “And if we want this to be one, too, we should look into dinner.”

The sleepy fuzziness from Sans’ sockets vanished and his nasal ridge flushed blue. “you sure you’re ready for that?”

“For dinner?”

“I meant…” his flush deepened and Sans swung his legs over the side of the bed, away from you, and stared at the snowy darkness outside the circular window. “yeah, dinner. and you going downstairs and showing my brothers your scars.”

“Not really.” you admitted as you got to your feet as well, your hand coming up to rest on the stripe across your right arm. You walked to the other side of the bed and took his hand. “But you’ll come with me, right?”

“course.” The color on Sans’ skull was fading and he laced his fingers in yours. “if it’s too much for you, just give me two squeezes. I’ll bring us right back up here and then go grab your jacket.”

As you walked together towards the narrow staircase, your heart hammered in your ears from nerves. From what you were about to do and what you wanted to do.

“are you sure you’re ready?” Sans stopped and asked you, his tone full of concern. “if you’re this nervous, I can go get your jacket and you can try again another day.”

“No,” you whispered, taking a step closer to him and giving his hand a squeeze. The blue flush crept back onto his skull as you closed the distance between your faces. “I’m ready.”

Sans stiffened with surprise as you pressed your lips against him, then slowly melted into your touch as your hand came up to rest on his shoulder. His hand squeezed yours while his free one found the bare skin of your back. He gently pulled you into him and sighed into the kiss.

“careful, now.” Sans said and reluctantly pulled away. “if you get me too excited I might end up marking you. are you sure your beta will be alright with that?”

“Mutt’s the one that talked me into being an alpha in the first place,” you smiled, thankful for his concern, “and I think Axe would be okay with this, too. He’s protective, but understanding.”

“you have two?” Sans’ sockets widened with surprise and you nodded. “you work fast, Thyme.”

“Is that a bad thing?”

“no, I know you have the capability to handle them. even though that might not be as easy as you think.” Sans smirked and rested his forehead against yours. “but I also… want to take things slow with us. I really care about you, but I’m still afraid of getting too close and then losing you again.”

You nodded, knowing that he meant your other deaths. Even though you couldn’t remember them, you had no doubt that they were still painful memories for him. “If it makes you more comfortable, you can make all the moves. Take all the time you want, Sans.”

“no,” Sans pressed another gentle kiss to your lips, “I’ll only take the Thyme I need. maybe we can start with another date? a proper one, one where we both know what it is this time.”

“I’d like that.”

The smile on Sans’ skull widened and he pulled you towards the narrow staircase. “alright, come on. let’s get you down there while Pap’s still cooking.”

“Why?” You asked, the fear slowly returning to you as Sans took you through your door and into the hall.

“because there won’t be as many of my bros around to start.” Sans explained as you both descended the oak steps. “that, and if you’re helping him cook, you’ll be focused on something other than your anxiety.”

Your eyes lingered on your leather jacket hanging near the front door as you passed. The grip you had on Sans’ hand tightened, but you turned your head towards the archway and walked on.

Pap’s loud voice drifted into the hall as he directed Butch around the kitchen. Axe’s slow chuckle slowly followed as something clanged loudly against the sink. Sans stopped just under the archway and you hid behind him, nervous.

“hey Pap,” Sans asked his brother while you tried to make yourself small, “what’s for dinner?”

“LASAGNA.” Papyrus announced irritably. You peaked over Sans’ shoulder and saw that he was holding a pair of tongs in his red mitten and a wide, flat noodle slipped from the tongs and onto the floor. Axe jumped on it and Papyrus shooed him away from the stove. “OR WE WOULD BE HAVING IT, IF I COULD GET THIS INSUFFERABLE PAN LAYERED PROPERLY!”

“I could… do it for you...” Butch piped up quietly from the counter, turning from the mound of vegetables by the cutting board.

“ABSOLUTELY NOT!” Pap returned to the colander in the sink and went for another noodle. “THIS HAS TO BE DONE JUST RIGHT AND I REFUSE TO LET THESE NOODLES BEST THE GREAT PAPYRUS!”

“just… take off your mittens…” Butch said, then cowered under the look Pap shot his way. Axe sneaked over and stole another noodle from the sink while Pap had his back turned.

“YOU KNOW I CAN’T DO THAT!” Pap pointed his empty tongs at Butch, unaware that Axe was slowly eating everything in the colander. You poked your head up a bit more, wanting to say something to stop Axe, but afraid to draw attention to yourself. “I CAN’T HAVE MY MAGIC ALL OVER THE KITCHEN WHEN HONEY GETS HERE OR SHE’LL GET WEIRD!”

“she’s... already here…” Butch pointed towards Sans, to where you hid. Pap dropped his tongs in surprise.

“...you should… listen more.” Axe chuckled and slunk back over to the table, the last of the noodles disappearing into the void behind his teeth. You shrank back behind Sans again and Axe tilted his skull curiously, his red light watching you.

“sounds like you guys need some help.” Sans gently pulled you forward and gave you a small push. He whispered to you, “go on, they’re not gonna bite.”

As you stumbled forward, you dropped Sans’ hand so that yours could come up and cover the scars on your right arm. You stared at the floor, cheeks burning with embarrassment, as you felt so many eye lights upon you.

Butch was the first to move. You saw his black sweatpants come closer to you and you glanced up at him, knowing that he had seen your scars before and hoping that he still felt the same way.

“you look… really nice today… Lily.” he said softly, a golden-grey color blooming on his nasal ridge. “what’s… the occasion?”

You gave Butch a shy smile, grateful that he wasn’t drawing attention to anything else. “Just felt like dressing up, I guess.”

“SO THAT’S WHY YOU WANTED MY SCARF.” Pap came over and eyed the fabric tied across your waist, a slight orange dusting on his skull, too. “IF YOU WANTED TO BORROW IT, YOU COULD HAVE JUST ASKED ME INSTEAD OF SENDING SANS, HONEY.”

“I tried to,” you giggled, your nerves easing. You were glad that Pap wasn’t saying anything either, though you noticed that his white lights darted curiously towards your shoulder when he thought you weren’t looking. “You wouldn’t let me in your room, remember?”

“...I’m glad… we didn’t lend you… our clothes.” Axe sent you a wide smile from the table as Sans joined him. “...you look… really pretty.”

A flush covered your face as you caught Axe’s hazy red light staring at you affectionately. You smiled back and mumbled a thank you. “So, um, Pap,” you said, determined to shift the room’s focus, “what can I do to help with dinner? It looks like you need some more noodles.”

Pap whipped around and glanced at the empty colander in the sink. He ground his teeth in fury and shouted, “AXE, YOU LITTLE WEASEL, I TOLD YOU NOT TO EAT THOSE!”

“It’s okay, we can make more noodles!” you said, trying to placate Pap as he dove after Axe and tried to put him in a choke hold. Axe squirmed out of his grip and hid beneath the table, laughing as Pap tried to swipe at him through the chairs.

“don’t worry about them, Thyme.” Sans laughed as Pap lunged at Axe and knocked over a pair of chairs. “this’ll all boil over.”

“NO PUNS AT THE TABLE!” Pap barked automatically as Axe dodged him yet again.

You looked at Butch questioningly and he shrugged, quickly turning away to rifle through the cupboards in an attempt to hide the color still on his cheekbones. Your eyes narrowed at the golden-grey color and, while you took the pot from the stove to add more water, you quietly asked him, “Are you feeling okay, Butch?”

“yes…”

You set the pot on the stove, watching him out of the corner of your eye, and lit the burner. As you watched him pull a new box of pasta from the cupboards, there was no doubt left in your mind. “Are you sure? You’re color is… you’re usually just grey, aren’t you?”

The box slipped out of Butch’s hands and onto the counter, the golden-grey color deepening on his skull. You reached out a hand and pressed the back of it to his forehead.  
“I-I’m… fine, Lily.” Butch stuttered and took your hand from his skull.

“But what if you’re sick?”

“actually…” Butch picked the box back up and held it, a small, lopsided smile on his face, “I feel better… than I have… in a long time. and you…” he glanced over at you, his smile growing, “you’re… being awfully brave… today.”

“GOTCHA!” Pap shouted triumphantly just as you opened your mouth to reply. You looked over your shoulder and Pap was standing tall, holding a squirming Axe off the floor by pinning his arms to his sides. Axe smirked and vanished in a puff of iron, reappearing at the stove by your side. He hid behind you as Pap stormed over. “THAT’S CHEATING, AXE!”

“...not cheating… if there are… no rules.” Axe chuckled and darted over to hide behind Butch as Pap reached around you.

“Hold on!” You grabbed Axe by the sleeve of his threadbare hoodie and held him still. “Axe, you know you’re not supposed to eat things without asking.”

“...but I was hungry.” Axe said while Pap glared at him.

“YOU’RE ALWAYS HUNGRY!” Pap snapped and took another swipe. You put a gentle hand on his white chest plate, trying to calm him as you turned back towards Axe.

“But you know that’s a rule,” you said firmly, “and since you broke it, you get to do all the dishes after dinner for Pap. If you do that, I’ll still let you have dessert.”

Pap nodded his approval of Axe’s punishment while Axe’s red light sparkled at the mention of dessert.

“eh, I hope you’re not talking about that custard.” Sans said from the table, his white lights on you. “it was really good and I kind of… ate all of it.”

“Sans!” You turned towards the table, hands on your hips. “I told you that was for everyone! Why did you eat it all?”

“loser’s lurgy?” Sans smiled sheepishly as Axe rejoined him at the table, glaring. Butch gently moved you to the side so that he could add the noodles to the boiling pot at your back.

“HA!” Pap laughed, pointing at Sans through his mitten. “HONEY FINALLY GOT YOU BACK, DIDN’T SHE?”

“yup.” Sans chuckled. “she whipped me good.”

“...you ate… all of it?” Axe growled, his temper clearly rising.

“I’ll make a new dessert!” You said quickly, knowing how sensitive Axe could be about food. 

“OOO! MAKE THOSE OATMEAL COOKIES AGAIN!” Pap said quickly, jumping on the chance to influence your decision.

“red velvet…?” Butch asked shyly.

“...cinnamon rolls.” Axe smiled at you, his eye light sparkling again at the thought of his favorite flavor.

“YOU DON’T GET TO SUGGEST ANYTHING!” Pap snapped at Axe. “OR YOU!” he quickly added, seeing Sans’ jaw open to say something. “IT SEEMS NEITHER OF YOU CAN CONTROL YOURSELVES AROUND SUGAR!”

“How about I make one of my favorites?” You said, though you were also thinking of someone else while you browsed the fridge. “I know I have the stuff to make a devil’s food cake, but there’s a raspberry jam in here I could use for layers, and fresh strawberries I could use for a pairing with a whipped topping.”

“I DON’T SEE US HAVING THE TIME TO DO ALL THAT WHILE MAKING DINNER.” Pap glanced at the boiling pot and gave it a stir to check the progress of the noodles.

“We will if we work together,” you said. “I’ll start dessert. Pap, you tell me when you need my help with the lasagna, then I’ll hop over and Butch can take over for me. Butch, if you follow my instructions as well as you did when we made tiramisu, we’ll be able to time everything perfectly.”

Pap and Butch nodded at you and returned to their dinner prep with a renewed fervor while you pulled bowls and ingredients out for the cake. The kitchen soon became a bundle of controlled chaos, with the three of you dancing around each other while you went about your tasks. Axe patiently watched you from his chair with a vacant grin on his face. Sans had rested his skull on his arms and had fallen asleep on the table.

As you put the large, rectangular cake pan in the oven and a blast of dry heat hit your bare arms, you realized that you had forgotten about what you were wearing. You felt a surge of affection for everyone around you for making you feel so normal again. Cooking like this with everyone… nothing made you feel more at home than these moments.

“Here,” you said and handed Axe a metal beater dripping with cake batter. After waking Sans by poking his ribs through his white t-shirt, you offered him the other beater with a smile. “Thanks for being so great, you two.”

“HONEY, I NEED YOU TO COME LAYER THIS.” Pap said from the sink, the colander of new noodles in his mittened hands. You noticed Butch watching his brothers enviously and quickly handed him a batter covered spatula.

“thanks…” he said quietly, licking at the dark batter with a honey colored tongue. You stared at it for a second before turning back to Pap, who also watched Butch jealously.

You didn’t have any utensils left and, as you eyed Pap’s mittens, you did the first thing that came to your head. Swiping the side of the bowl with two fingers, you offered the glob of batter to Pap as he dropped the colander in the sink.

“Just try it, Pap.” you urged him, seeing his white lights anxiously dart between you and the batter dripping from your fingers. “We got to stay on task if we’re going to get this all done.”

With one last, hesitating glance at you, Pap grabbed your wrist and brought it to his teeth. His orange tongue darted out and licked the majority of the batter away in one, smooth motion, and then he quickly turned back to the stove with a flush across his cheekbones.

“Butch, when you’re done with that,” you said as you sucked your fingers clean and grabbed the colander of noodles, “those eggs need the yolk separated from the whites.”

The metal beaters floated across the kitchen on clouds of red and blue plasma, mixing the smells of iron and damp wood with those of sauce and sugar. They knocked against your shoulders gently as you searched the marble counter for measuring cups. You grabbed them and quickly washed them, along with your hands, in the sink. Pap moved from the stove top to the counter to work on sides while you took over for him at the stove, giving Butch instructions while you carefully layered the pasta and sauce.

“The cake!” You squeaked in panic, just as you were finishing the lasagna, and looked around for the oven mitts. Pap reached around you, opened the oven door, and grabbed the cake pan straight out of the oven with only his mittens. You watched him set it on the counter in shock, turning only slightly so you could watch him put the main dish in the oven where the cake had been.

“HEAT DOESN’T BOTHER US.” Pap said, noticing your staring, and smiled at you.

“But… you’re not burned?” You grabbed his hand and examined the mitten, just to be safe. 

“I WON’T GET BURNED IF I DON’T TOUCH IT DIRECTLY OR HOLD ON TO IT TOO LONG.”

“Heat doesn’t bother you… at all?” you asked him quietly while you worked side by side. Jealousy bubbled up in your guts. What you wouldn’t give to be like that. Being around an oven was one thing, you had so many great memories associated with them because of your mom, but if you had felt that kind of intense, dry heat from anything else, it would have scared you.

“FOR THE MOST PART, NO.” Pap looked over his shoulder at you, his white eye lights shining with curiosity at your sudden change in tone.

“Th-the cake needs to cool,” you said quickly, hoping to avoid any questions. “Butch, how’s that whipped cream coming?”

“done… I think.” Butch held out the bowl for you to inspect and you gave him an approving nod.

“AS ARE THE SALADS.” Pap nodded to the nine bowls spread across the counter. “NOW WE JUST WAIT FOR THE MAIN COURSE TO BE FINISHED.”

“The cake still needs to be cut and decorated.” You glanced at the hot pan, still amazed that Pap could just pull it out of the oven like that, and searched for the mitts. “I’m going to go put it outside to try and cool it down a bit faster.”

“...don’t stay outside… too long.” Axe said from the table as you carried the pan past. Sans watched you hurry through the archway with a sleepy expression on his skull.

The wind howled outside, whipping at the bell of your sundress, driving the flurry of snow down your hastily put on boots and into your skin like tiny, icy daggers. You set the cake on the stoop and watched the snow around it quickly melt away. You shivered violently and rubbed the oven mitts against your arms, wondering how long it would take for the cake to cool in this.

You were turning around to go back inside, to grab your jacket, when you heard it.

A soft, warbling voice, carried on the wind out of the dark woods. It was barely a suggestion of a whisper, it was so quiet, but you could hear your name among an unrecognizable song on the storm. A chill that had nothing to do with the winter weather froze your very bones.

The wind sang again, filling you with words you didn’t understand, and you took a tentative step off the stoop. That voice scared you, so why did you want to go to it? It sounded familiar but you couldn’t place where.

It was like you were hearing an echo from a dream you had a long time ago. As you listened to the garbled words, you felt yourself being pulled towards somewhere. Somehow, you couldn’t explain why, but you knew it wanted to tell you something, show you something…

“HONEY?” Pap called out from the stoop, Axe at his side. You blinked and, with a jolt of surprise, realized you were halfway across the lawn, almost to the edge of the trees. You quickly made your way back to the house, to warmth. Pap watched you duck under his arm and hide just inside the entryway, shivering furiously. Axe grabbed the cake off the stoop and shut the door.

“WHAT ON EARTH WERE YOU DOING OUT THERE?” Pap asked, his loud voice laced with concern. Axe gave the pan over to Pap and grabbed your jacket off the hook on the wall to drape over your shoulders.

“...you shouldn’t… wander like that.” Axe glared at you, his slow voice sharp with anger. “...it’s dangerous… for you… in the dark.”

“Did you hear that voice, too?” you quietly asked Axe, looking into his red light. “When you went out in the storm earlier... were you trying to find it?”

“...what voice?” Axe’s sockets widened in surprise at your questions.

“I DIDN’T HEAR ANYTHING.” Pap suggested, looking thoroughly startled by what you said, “MAYBE IT WAS JUST THE WIND?”

“Yeah…” you drifted off and looked out the window, at the dark and the swirling snow. “Just the wind, I guess.”

“...I’m going out.” Axe growled, heading towards the door. You grabbed his arm and held him back.

“No, Axe, please don’t.” You looked at him pleadingly and tried to pull him back. “Don’t go out there. You said it yourself, it’s dark and dangerous. Please don’t leave.”

Axe’s red light searched your face and his hard expression slowly softened. His hand found yours and he squeezed it tightly. “...fine. ...but I’m staying… with you tonight. ...just… to make sure… you’re safe.”

“Thank you.” you pulled Axe into a hug and held him tightly. “Bring Butch, too. I know he doesn’t like to sleep alone.”

“LET’S GET YOU IN FRONT OF THE OVEN.” Pap grabbed your jacket off your shoulders and hung it back up on the hook. “YOU’LL WARM UP FASTER THAT WAY.”

“...stay with her.” You heard Axe whisper to Pap as you walked back into the kitchen. “...I need… to talk to Mutt.”

“everything okay?” Sans asked as Pap ushered you over to the oven and cracked the door, letting the heat inside wash over your chilled skin. Butch watched you curiously as you let your hands hover over the opening.

“Yeah, I shouldn’t have stayed outside with the cake.” you said, hoping that you were telling enough of a truth that Sans wouldn’t pick up on anything. “Just leave the pan on the counter, Pap. I’ll finish the rest of it while you and Butch take care of dinner.”

You turned back towards the oven, grateful for the heat that chased the ice from your core. How did you end up in the middle of the lawn like that? You wanted to believe you imagined the call drifting on the storm but...

No matter how you thought about it, imaginary or not, hearing voices wasn't a good sign. There was a lot about the monster world you still didn’t understand, but if Axe and Pap hadn’t heard it either… what could it have been? It couldn’t have been a Feral; they couldn’t speak. You weren’t going crazy, were you? 

Or maybe Pap was right, maybe it was just the wind and you were overthinking it.

~~~

While Butch went to get the other brothers to come down for dinner, you and Pap worked together to ready everyone’s plates. The cake waited next to the sink, beautifully made and topped enticingly with mounts of whipped cream and sliced strawberries. Sans stared at the cake with a dreamy look in his eye lights, a lazy smile on his skull.

“-I told you, there’s nothing out there.” you heard Mutt’s raspy voice say to Axe as they entered the kitchen from the hall leading from the basement. “I can keep searching, but there’s nothing strange out there except for that one dead deer.”

“...that looked like… a wolf kill.” Axe growled and shook his skull, obviously frustrated, as he and Mutt took seats at the table next to Sans. “...this has to be… monster related.”

“I think Pap was right,” you said as you brought Sans a plate of lasagna and a bowl of carefully made salad. “I think it was just the wind, Axe.”

“...you didn’t think so… earlier.” Axe said pointedly. Mutt turned to face you, about to add something to this, and his jaw dropped.

“Wow…” he sighed, his red lights looking you over as a dusting of burnt orange crept onto his cheekbones. “Aren’t you a pretty bird?”

Your cheeks turned pink and you hurried back to Pap to grab the next serving to hand out. The scents of frost and gasoline drifted over your shoulders as you balanced the next set of plates and you didn’t need to turn around to know who had arrived.

“I TOLD YOU ALREADY, YOU DON’T NEED TO KEEP HOUNDING ME ABOUT THE NEW SCHEDULE!” Edge snapped and a chair squeaked across the tile as he sat down. “THERE’S NOTHING WE CAN DO UNTIL WE CAN GO BACK AND YOU’RE OVER PLANNING, AS USUAL!”

“Someone has to!” Milord replied icily, another chair squeaking as he also sat down. “Just because  _ you _ laze around during this storm doesn’t mean I have the same luxury. You’ll be required to work overtime once we resume the rounds if we’re to stay on track.”

“Maybe Edge has a point,” you said as you gave Axe and Mutt their plates. Milord stilled as his purple lights rested on you and your dark green sundress, while Edge’s red lights narrowed at the marks on your arm and shoulder. Your cheeks flushed with embarrassment and your hand came up to cover the scars on your arm. “We’re all stuck here for a while, why don’t you take this chance to relax, Milord?”

Milord’s lights narrowed, matching Edge as he stared at you, but his slight skull tilt showed that he seemed more curious than anything else. When his purple lights found the leggings he had gifted you, he looked away to hide the slight lavender flush on his nasal ridge.

As Pap handed you another plate, a thick, sweet scent that you didn’t recognize filled the kitchen. You looked over your shoulder curiously, wondering what it was and where it was coming from, and saw that Butch had returned.

“Red’s… not coming.” Butch said softly, rubbing his skull, while he came back to the counter to help you and Pap. “he says… he’s not hungry and… he’s in a… really bad mood.”

You furrowed your brow in thought. You hadn’t forgotten what happened earlier between the two of you, but surely Red had smelled the cake as you were making it? You had thought that would be enough of a signal to show him that you weren’t angry at him; why would he miss out on a chance to have his favorite flavor? You glanced at the empty seat at the table, wondering if Red was skipping out solely to avoid you, and Sans caught your eye. He gave you the slightest motion of the skull towards the archway and you nodded.

“I’ll go talk to him.” You said to Pap and Butch, who both looked at you curiously. “We worked hard on this, didn’t we? I don’t want Red to miss it.”

“careful… Lily.” Butch gently touched your arm as you passed, stalling you. “Red… has a terrible… temper and… he likes to… throw things.”

“Did he throw something at you?” You asked, your voice quiet, but filled with a simmering anger.

“just... an empty… mustard bottle.” Butch shrank a little under your furious look. “I’m… sorry.”

“Don’t be sorry; I’m not mad at you.” You turned on your heel and stormed out of the kitchen. “But I’m definitely saying something to him about that!”

“it... didn’t hurt!” Butch called after you.

“That’s not the point!” You snapped, stomping past Edge. He turned his skull slightly to watch you as you passed, his fingers steepled before him to hide his sharp toothed scowl; his red lights still narrowed thoughtfully.

Halfway up the oak steps, you paused and forced yourself to take a deep breath. Shouting at Red wasn’t going to accomplish anything. Yes, you were angry and still hurt, but you knew that your aggression would only fan the flames. You wanted to talk with him, not have a shouting match. At the very least, you didn’t want him leaking his smoke scented magic everywhere and scaring you out of your wits.

“Red,” you said firmly and hammered on his door, “open up. We need to talk.”

“already said I ain’t hungry.” Red growled from the other side. “so leave me th’ fuck alone.”

“That’s a shame,” you said, “because I made a chocolate cake with you in mind.”

Red wretched the door open. His crimson lights glared at you and a twisted scowl sat on his skull. “yer fuckin’ unbelievable, know that? I piss yeh off earlier, an’ yer still pissed by the sound of it, but yeh come up here talkin’ about cake ‘n shit?”

“I’m not pissed about what you said to me, if that’s what you mean.” You glared right back at those lights, determined not to let Red intimidate you. “I’m angry because you threw a bottle at Butch!”

“he had it comin’!” Red snapped. “I told him teh leave me alone!”

“He was just trying to invite you to dinner. I know you have a temper, but dammit Red he didn’t do anything to you!”

“guess I should’a known this would happen.” Red took a step out into the hall, got in your face, and tossed his hands up in the air. “I fuck with him an’ he goes and sicks his alpha on me, just like Pap did! well fuck you, and fuck them, an-”

“Stop it, Red!” You snapped and stepped forward, closing the distance even further. “Pap and Butch are not my betas. I stood up for them because I care about them. And they’re your brothers! I get that you have spats every now and then but sometimes you’re just a real asshole, you know that?”

“yeah, I am!” Red’s face was an inch from yours. You could feel the heat of his breath coming through his snarl as he shouted, “I’m a major asshole! so maybe yeh should take the giant hint I’m throwin’ at yeh and stay away from me!”

“You know,” you said quietly, holding his furious gaze, “for a guy that doesn’t want to be alone, you sure do try hard to push people away. Especially those that care about you.”

Red’s snarl softened into a surprised scowl, his crimson eye lights dilating slightly. 

“We’d still like it if you’d come down to dinner.” You huffed. “Pap and Butch won’t like it if you went without real food and I put a lot of work into that cake, thinking of you.”

“I don’t get it.” Red’s lights shimmered with confusion as he backed off and watched you smooth out a bit of fabric in Pap’s scarf that had gotten bunched up. “why ‘er ya doin’ this? I ain’t the kinda guy yeh should be wastin’ yer time on. after what I said teh ya, somehow yeh take my bullshit and forgive me anyway? what the hell is wrong with ya?”

“I never said I forgave you for that.” You looked back into Red’s eye lights, your words like cold steel. “What you said about my scars really hurt me, Red. I won’t forget that anytime soon.”

Red’s confusion only became more apparent, his eye lights darting towards the marks on your arm and then back at your face. “...then what ‘er ya doin’ here?”

“Because that wasn’t the only thing you said,” you crossed your arms, putting one hand over your scars, “After I had a chance to hear past your hurtful remarks, I realized you were actually angry for me, weren’t you?”

Red scowled again, “I never said-”

“Don’t you dare deny it,” You growled, pressing a finger to his sharp teeth and leaning in, close enough that you could see your reflection in his golden fang. “Don’t you take back those other words, the ones that were looking out for me. They’re the only reason I’m not still angry after what you said regarding my scars.”

You stared at each other. Red stood dumbfounded and you waited for his reaction with an anxious tightness in your chest.

“so yeh... don’t forgive me?”

“Nope.” You shook your head, taking your hand away from his sharp teeth.

“then why ‘er yeh doin’ this?”

“Because friends give second chances, don’t they?” You raised your eyebrow at Red. “I made the cake to say I’m sorry for how I threatened you when I defended Pap and for how I reacted when you saw my scars. It wasn’t right of me to run away and scare you like that. But if you want me to forgive  _ you _ for what you said about my scars, then you’ll have to make it up to me, won’t you?”

Red’s crimson lights searched your face, then he looked away with a pained expression on his skull. “yeh should stop wastin’ yer time with me, Dollface. I ain’t good fer someone like you. just give up already.”

“It’s my time and I’ll decide if I’m wasting it or not.” You said stubbornly, your eyes narrowing at him. “Don’t give me that defeatist kind of talk, Red. I know you’re a dumbass, but you’re not so dumb as to think you’re not good for anyone. You can be really considerate, when you want to be.”

Red looked up at you, a small hope shining in his lights. “I dunno how… how I’m gonna make it up teh ya. what I said. I heard what it did to yeh….”

“You can start by coming downstairs,” you held out your hand to him, “and saying an apology to Butch for throwing that mustard bottle at him.”

Red frowned at your hand. “that ain’t what I do, Dollface.”

“Then show him you’re sorry if you won’t say it.” You huffed, slightly frustrated. Was it really so hard for him just to say a few words? “When dessert comes around, get up and get him his slice of cake or something. Or go out of your way to do something nice. It’s not that hard, Red.”

Red looked at your hand again, took it, and pulled you into a tight hug. You stiffened, not expecting him to do that, then softened as he squeezed you.

“...thanks, Dollface.” He growled softly in your ear, “fer not givin’ up on me. even though I’m a dumbass.”

“Yeah, but you’re our dumbass, aren’t you?” You said, your cheeks turning pink as he buried his face in your hair and you felt him breathe deeply. “Come on, Red, let’s get downstairs before all the food is gone.”

“yeah, alright.” Red let you go, a slight crimson flush on his cheekbones, and avoided eye contact with you as he stuffed his hands into the pockets of his black hoodie.

There was already a place set for you by the time you and Red returned to the kitchen, but Pap must not have been expecting you to return with Red. Pap and Butch stared at you, their white lights slightly wide, as you offered your place by Butch’s side to Red and went to the counter to fix yourself a plate.

“-and then this horde of Forsworn came out of nowhere and I’m freaking out because my magicka is all gone,” you heard Mutt tell Axe animatedly as you took a seat next to Mutt. “I had only a few potions left, but then I remembered this summoning scroll I had just found, and that really saved my ass since the Dremora Lord is an amazing tank…”

“Having fun with the game, Mutt?” You grinned, seeing his red lights sparkle as Axe frowned with confusion.

“It’s amazing, Robin, I love it!” Mutt grinned broadly, his golden fang flashing, and pulled you into his story about his current in-game quest. Having never played the game yourself, you soon became just as confused as Axe with all the terminology Mutt was using, but he seemed so happy that you couldn’t help but smile and nod as he got into an animated recollection of a dragon fight.

Even as you listened quietly to Mutt’s story, you couldn’t help but notice that every now and then sets of eye lights would glance at you, at your marks, from various points around the table. It bothered you a little, but no one said anything, and by the time the plates were all clear there was only one set of lights that continued to stare at you.

“You guys want cake?” You asked as you collected the empty plates from Axe, effectively pausing Mutt’s ongoing game commentary. “No, it’s okay, Pap, let me get it,” you added, noticing Papyrus start to rise to help you. It wasn’t that you didn’t appreciate the gesture, but you wanted a chance to get away from the table to get a break from Edge’s unyielding stare.  
“sit yer ass back down!” you heard Red bark as you carried the dishes to the sink. Looking over your shoulder, you saw a surprised Butch sink back into his chair as Red got up and sauntered towards you. You gave Red an approving smile as you pulled a clean set of plates from the cupboard.

“Thanks, Red.” You said, handing him a pair of plates with thick slices of cake on them. “Hand these out for me, won’t you?”

“What’s gotten into you?” Milord smirked at Red as he set cake in front of a wide-lighted Butch. “Acting this domestic is… unusual for you.”

“yeh got a problem, tiny?” Red growled and dropped Milord’s plate on the table with a clatter. He added as Sans snickered by Milord’s side, “th’ fuck’s so funny, vanilla?”

“nothing.” Sans fought back a laugh as Red handed plates out to Pap and Axe. “this just really takes the cake.”

“IT’S… STRANGE TO SEE YOU ACTING SO NICE.” Pap’s white lights followed Red. Pap was so clearly surprised that he even forgot to yell at Sans for his table-side pun.

“Here, just take a seat, Red,” you said as you gave him a plate, noticing by the size of his scowl that his temper was rising again. “I’ll finish handing things out, but thank you for your help.”

Red snatched the plate from your hands and reclaimed his seat next to Butch, growling incomprehensibly under his breath. Mutt gave you a knowing smirk as you handed him a slice of cake and you returned to the counter for the last two plates.

“DON’T BOTHER.” Edge said sharply, watching you from behind his steepled fingers as you cut another slice. “I WON’T EAT IT.”

“You don’t like chocolate?” You asked nervously, catching his narrowed lights once again. He seemed angry with you. Then again, he always seemed angry at you. “O-or maybe you want something else?”

“WHAT I WANT,” Edge said as you returned to the table, “IS TO KNOW HOW SOMEONE LIKE YOU, SOMEONE WITH NO LOVE OR EXP, GAINED THOSE MARKS.”

You fumbled your fork and it dropped to the table with a clatter. You had been expecting, at first, for someone to ask about your scars. When no one did, you had hoped that the evening would pass without any questions.

“THOSE AREN’T ALL OF THEM, ARE THEY?” Edge continued as the rest of the table turned to listen to him. “IT’S CLEAR NOW, BY THE WAY YOU COVER YOURSELF, THAT THEY ARE MORE EXTENSIVE THAN YOU LET ON, AREN’T THEY?”

You shrank slightly in your chair. Leave it to Edge to not only point out the elephant in the room, but to kick it in the face. Anxiety twisted your guts and you looked at your plate of cake, your mouth suddenly dry.

“watch yer mouth, Edge.” Red growled from the other end of the table, his crimson lights glaring.

“WHAT, NOW I’M NOT ALLOWED TO ASK QUESTIONS?” Edge snapped.

“There’s a time and a place for them.” Mutt growled, his hand coming up under the table to hold your hand. That slight gesture of reassurance gave you some of your confidence back.

“you don’t… have to fight… to survive.” Butch piped up, his quiet voice carrying across the table.

“ARE YOU IMPLYING THAT SHE TRIED TO TAKE ON A FIRE USER?” Edge laughed, but it was a cold, humorless sound, and turned back to you. “I RECOGNIZE OLD BURNS WHEN I SEE THEM. THOUGHT YOU WOULD TEST YOUR METTLE, PET? DID YOU LEARN YOUR LESSON?”

“You better watch your tone, Edge.” Milord’s voice froze the very air, his purple light’s so thin in their glare that his sockets were practically black. “Or remain silent.”

“I’M JUST SAYING THAT FIRE IS SOME OF THE MOST POWERFUL MAGIC THERE IS.” Edge smirked, enjoying the fact that his words were causing the entire table to bristle in your defense. “WHY WOULD SHE EVEN ATTEMPT SUCH A FEAT? IT’S OBVIOUS SHE LOST - AND BADLY. WHY WOULDN’T SHE? IT’S FOOLISH BEYOND BELIEF TO THINK A MERE HUMAN COULD OVERCOME THAT ELEMENT.”

“...have you?”

The eye lights around the table all turned at your small voice. You squeezed Mutt’s hand as hard as you could, trying to keep your words from shaking along with the rest of your body. You looked up at Edge, glaring, as you felt the pain of that day twist in your chest.

“Have you ever fought fire, Edge?” you asked again, your eyes burning. “Because I don’t think you could say those things so lightly, if you did. You wouldn’t say those things if you felt the same pain that I felt, or lost what I lost.”

“I DON’T NEED TO.” Edge smirked. “BECAUSE UNLIKE YOU, I AM NOT WEAK.”

You dropped Mutt’s hand and stood up, your chair squeaking across the tile as it slid back, and fled the room before your tears could fall. You didn’t want to stay and hear anymore. It was bad enough that he sounded so degrading, you didn’t want to wait around for the insults you knew would follow.

“...you just had to take it too far, didn’t you?” you heard Sans’ low voice growl, the scent of damp wood and smoke, of iron and frost chasing you as you ran down the entryway.

As you ran up the oak stairs, you were vaguely aware of the smell of clove, brown sugar, and something sweet drifting down from the landing. With your vision blurred from tears, you ran straight into someone tall and nearly bowled them over.

“Let’s get her upstairs.” you heard Mutt’s raspy voice say as you clung to whoever you ran into and sobbed. Gentle hands scooped you up and someone opened your door. You heard shouting drift up the oak staircase and the loud noise of something being thrown before your door snapped shut and stifled the noise.

“IT’S OKAY, HONEY. WE’RE HERE.” The hands that held you squeezed you gently before setting you onto your soft bed. You wiped your eyes in time to see Papyrus straightening back up, to see Butch and Mutt take seats on the edges of your cream sheets.

“What the hell,” you sniffed loudly and wiped your face on your forearm, “is Edge’s problem? Why is he so angry about everything? Why does he have to be so mean?”

The three brothers looked sadly between them.

“we don’t know… the whole story.” Butch put a comforting hand on your upper back, rubbing the bare skin gently.

“RED KNOWS.” Pap huffed and sat on the bed as well, his arms crossed irritably. “BUT HE WON’T TELL US.”

“B-but why,” you hiccoughed, “does he  _ hate me _ so much?”

Mutt took your hand and gave it a squeeze. “For all we know, it’s just because you’re human.”

“That’s stupid!” You huffed. “I can’t help what I am!”

“we know…”

“It’s the same kind of bullshit I get from other humans about monsters!” You shouted, growing angry. “He’s not even giving me a chance and then he says those things! I get that he has a temper just like Red but at least Red feels bad when he fucks up!”

“HE DOESN’T, USUALLY.” Pap said thoughtfully. “RED HAS NEVER EXPRESSED REMORSE BEFORE. THAT’S YOU’RE DOING, HONEY.”

“...say what now?”

“he was just… like Edge before you… came.” Butch smiled hopefully as your rage fell away in surprise. “you’re…. good for him.”

“You’re good for all of us.” Mutt nodded in agreement. “So don’t let what Edge said get to you. You’ve got one hell of a strong soul to put up with all of us.”

“and don’t… hide away again…” Butch gently ran his fingers over the marks on your arm, a golden-grey blush coming to his cheekbones as he added, “you’re too pretty… to stay hidden, Lily.”

“DID YOU… REALLY GET THOSE FROM A FIRE?” Pap asked nervously, his white lights glancing over your scars. 

You nodded. “Yeah. I guess everyone knows that now, because of Edge.”

“not true…” Butch shook his skull. “unless… you told someone else… only Mutt, Axe and I… know the whole story. that’s… still yours.”

“And it’s your story to tell,” Mutt added, giving Papyrus a meaningful glance, “when you’re ready.”

“I WAS WONDERING WHY YOU GOT SO UPSET WHEN I TOOK THE CAKE FROM THE OVEN.” Pap avoided your eyes, his loud voice somewhat quieter, “I’M SORRY, HONEY. IF I HAD KNOWN…”

“It’s okay, Pap,” you gave him a small smile. “I’m not mad about that. I was more worried that you had burned yourself.”

The smell of iron filled your room and Axe appeared. His sockets were black and he had a scowl on his face as he stormed over to the bed, leaking red plasma from his clenched fists. Butch backed away and Mutt shifted so that he was between you and his angry brother.

Axe shoved Mutt aside and got in your face. Pap tensed next to you.

“...if he ever…” Axe growled, his skull inches from your nose, “...talks to you… like that again… you tell me. ...I’ll… break his fucking arm… if he hurts you… again.”

You had only seen Axe this angry once before: when he found out that your classmate had punched you. Even though his brothers seemed fearful of him, you reached out and gently brought Axe into you. Pap even gave a small gasp of fear.

“I don’t want you to hurt others for my sake.” You said as you squeezed Axe, “but thank you for trying to protect me.”

“does that mean… the fighting’s stopped?” Butch asked nervously, his white lights glancing towards the narrow staircase. Mutt openly stared at you in shock as Axe’s shoulders relaxed and his red light came back.

“...yes.” Axe’s hands came up to hold you back, free of any plasma. “...Red is still… furious at Edge.... but… Sans and Milord… have it… under control. ...they sent me… up here.”

“YOU REALLY ARE SOMETHING ELSE, HONEY.” Pap said, deeply impressed, as he watched Axe nuzzle your neck. “I’VE ONLY SEEN AXE THAT ANGRY ONCE, BACK WHEN HE AND BUTCH FIRST MOVED IN WITH US, AND IT TOOK DAYS TO CALM HIM DOWN.”

“Should we go back down, then?” Mutt asked, eyeing Axe from the corner of his socket, his red lights full of jealousy.

“I’m alright,” you sighed. “I don’t feel like facing anyone else right now. Especially Edge.”

“I WOULD THINK IT’S ALRIGHT, IF YOU WANT TO GO DOWN.” Pap said as the slamming of a door traveled up the narrow staircase, even with your door shut. “THAT’S PROBABLY EDGE GOING BACK TO HIS ROOM-” another slam “AND THAT’S RED.”

“...you go, Pap.” Axe said, turning his skull slightly to speak from your neck. “...I’m staying.”

“OH NO YOU DON’T!” Pap grabbed Axe by the back of his hoodie and pulled him off you. “YOU STILL HAVE HONEY’S PUNISHMENT TO DO! THOSE DISHES AREN’T CLEANING THEMSELVES, AND I’M GOING TO MAKE SURE YOU FOLLOW THROUGH!”

“I’ll stay then.” Mutt smirked, watching Axe dangle from Pap’s red mitten.

“...you have… that search to do.” Axe glared at Mutt, his single light flashing dangerously. “...if I can’t… go out in the woods… tonight.”

“Well someone should stay with Robin!”

“It’s okay, Mutt.” you smiled and glanced over your shoulder. “Butch will stay with me, right?”

Butch nodded shyly, a golden-grey blush reappearing on his skull under his brothers’ eye lights. Pap smiled, approving, and ruffled your hair before he carried a disgruntled Axe down the narrow steps and out of the room.

Mutt stood, his arms crossed and his lights narrowed at Butch. “You better watch out for her, Butch, hear me?”

“Mutt!” you snapped, “Don’t you take that tone with him!”

Mutt’s red lights flickered with surprise, then his sharp teeth curled up in a soft smile. “Sorry, Butch. But she’s my alpha, you know?”

“That’s bragging!” You shouted and threw your pillow at him, hitting Mutt square in the back as he made for the narrow staircase. Mutt laughed and tossed the pillow back to you with a flick of clove scented magic.

You pulled the pillow from your face and scowled, but only half-heartedly. Even after all that, after how upset you were because of Edge, just their presence had made you feel better. Every one of them had made an effort to look out for you. ...you were really lucky to live with such caring guys.

“so… um… what should… we do?” Butch asked, looking nervous now that he was alone with you. You smiled and crawled over the bed for your phone.

“How about a movie?” You asked, holding up the device. “I could really use a feel-good flick at the moment…”

“what did you… have in mind?” Butch asked as you propped up the pillows and motioned for him to lean back. He flushed again as you scooted in close, holding up your phone for the both of you to see as you leaned your head against his shoulder.

“Ever seen ‘The Princess Bride’ before?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm super happy I managed to get this up for you guys before all hell breaks loose on my end. Hope you enjoy, we got a lot of things about to go down... 
> 
> And a quick shout out to all of you lovelies for your kind words and thoughts. It really helps me out during this time. I hope you all are staying safe and healthy! <3


	14. Ch 14 - Change

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ahhh I'm sorry this took so long! Life has been kind of crazy (who's isn't, with all that's happening in the world?) but I SERIOUSLY APPRECIATE YOU READERS!! Not gonna lie, your kind words and your patience have helped me so much, I freaking love you all.
> 
> Also, one of you lovelies by the name of Mother_Mortician has made some beautiful story art! They've painted the house, and did a fantastic job, so please check out the links below! 
> 
> https://www.instagram.com/p/B_cHCv0FJdF/?utm_source=ig_web_copy_link   
> https://www.instagram.com/p/B_cdRN2lteD/?utm_source=ig_web_copy_link  
> https://www.instagram.com/p/B_cHYv1lgw7/?utm_source=ig_web_copy_link
> 
> And here's some that they did for Butch's room <3
> 
> https://www.instagram.com/p/B_fVIgPFCKW/?utm_source=ig_web_copy_link  
> https://www.instagram.com/p/B_fVZhhF0i8/?utm_source=ig_web_copy_link

Ch 14 - Change

Something soft, like the brush of a feather, caressed your face and gently woke you. A small pressure pulled at your chest as someone’s hands pulled you into their body, spooning you, while someone else pulled in the opposite direction from your waist. You cracked open your eyes and blinked, your vision hazy. 

A gentle glow, like that of a very dim nightlight, filled the room. Was the movie still playing? Then why was it so dark outside? The glow gave you just enough light to see the top of Axe’s head as he shifted under the covers, nuzzling the bare skin on your chest with his face as he breathed softly. A red sleeve shifted in the corner of your vision as Butch’s arm wrapped around your shoulders. You felt him bury his face into the back of your neck, into your hair, and you blinked again to clear the haze from your eyes.

Only it wasn’t clearing at all. You were waking up, but the floor of your room appeared to be covered in a strange, glowing fog. Some of that grey light was drifting up into your face, tickling your nose. It smelled like sweet rot.

You gently took Butch’s hand from your shoulders and held it in front of your eyes. As you watched, grey plasma slowly gathered at the tips of his skeletal fingers and dripped away across your cream colored sheets, spilling onto the floor to join the sea of fog filling your room. But it wasn’t just grey on his hands; Butch’s palms were surrounded with an aura of golden plasma. You turned slightly, fascinated, as you watched the golden magic pulse on his hand and push out more of the grey. It gathered on the tips of his fingers and dripped away.

A thick, sweet scent drifted into your face as the golden magic pulsed again. That smell was warm and inviting. Curious, not really thinking, you brought Butch’s palm to your face and licked it. The ghost of a taste made your tongue tingle and it was so familiar; it was sugary but somehow floral at the same time. Where had you tasted that before?

Butch shifted in his sleep, waving the hand you were holding as if to shoo someone away. He grumbled, “knock it off… Axe…” and wrapped his arm around your shoulders once more.

Should you be worried? You wondered as you watched the magic roll off the sheets; the plasma acting like a strange in-between of water and air. As far as you knew, leaking magic wasn't a normal thing for monsters. Then again, Pap leaked magic, but it wasn't something the others seemed too worried about. There was also the fact that breathing Butch's magic didn't seem to have any effect on you like Pap's did. Maybe skeletons did this when they dreamed?

You raised your head slightly and looked around your glowing room. The soft, grey light made it look very surreal; like you were in an old black and white film. As the golden light pulsed, you wondered if maybe all this had something to do with that new color. Butch had told you yesterday that he felt fine, but you couldn’t help feeling slightly worried. Who could answer your questions?

You squirmed, now fully awake and able to appreciate just how trapped you were between the two brothers. Both of their holds tightened on you as you tried to wriggle free. You sighed. You didn’t want to wake anyone up, it was the middle of the night, but you would have to.

“Axe, wake up,” you whispered, focusing on the brother directly in front of you. You gently ran your fingers over top of his skull as he nuzzled into your chest and growled softly in protest.

Axe pulled slightly away, his sockets cracked open and his single, fuzzy red light finding your face. You prompted him again to wake, but he just frowned at you.

“...too early.” Axe growled, grumpy, and rested his skull back on your chest. “...go back… to sleep, Willow.”

“Please, Axe, it’s about Butch.”

At your words, Axe’s fuzzy red light sharpened and he pulled away from your chest. He didn’t ask you what you meant; he didn’t need to. His eye light widened as you held up Butch’s hand for him to see and Axe watched as the golden magic pulsed again, forcing more grey plasma to drip onto the sheets.

“Is this normal for monsters?” you asked quietly, not wanting to wake Butch just yet. If this was a problem, if it was embarrassing in any way, you didn’t want him to get anxious and try to cover it up like when you had asked in the kitchen.

“...no.” Axe propped himself on an elbow and took his brother’s hand. He turned it over to gaze at its glowing, golden palm.

“Butch’s magic is normally grey, right?”

“...yes.”

“So what is this gold stuff?”

“...I… don’t know.” Axe frowned and looked around the room, his eye light resting on the fog swirling over the wooden floor.

“Should we get Pap?” You asked as Butch shifted in his sleep and pulled you closer. “He should know what to do, right?”

“...no.” Axe slowly shook his skull and looked again at the golden magic. You were starting to get anxious from his reaction to all this. “...no, I’m… getting Sans. ...he’ll know… what to do.”

“Does Sans know a lot about stuff like this?” You tried to keep your voice even as you fought the nervousness inside you; trying to stay calm. Freaking out wasn’t going to help Butch. If anything, the noise from your soul might wake him up and cause  _ him _ to freak out.

“...Sans is… the only one who… can see souls. …it’s the source… of our magic.” Axe explained as he carefully got out of bed so as not to wake his brother. “...he’ll know… what to do. ...just stay here… with Butch… while I get him.”

“You think something’s wrong with his soul?” You squeaked, scared, as Axe vanished in the blink of an eye. It was a testament to the amount of grey magic in the room that you couldn’t smell any iron as he teleported away.

You stared at the spot Axe had just been and bit your lip. Is this how monsters got sick? They might not get colds, but they had weird things happen to their souls? You gently rolled over, wrapped your arms around Butch, and rested your head against his chest.

“Please don’t be sick,” you whispered to Butch as he slept. “I don’t know how to take care of a sick monster. But I won’t leave you, I promise.”

“Lily…” Butch mumbled and the room glowed as the golden magic pulsed brightly. Your gaze snapped up and you saw that he was still asleep. A small, lopsided smile was on his skull as he nuzzled you and his arms tightened around your shoulders.

The glowing, grey fog churned violently across the floor. It gathered and roiled like storm clouds and crashed against itself like waves out at sea. You squeezed Butch protectively, suddenly afraid of that magic.

A hand touched your arm and you jumped. Looking over your shoulder, you saw Axe had returned with Sans and that both of them had determinedly blank looks on their skulls.

“you’ll need to get out of bed for a bit.” Sans’ low voice said quietly to you. Axe was already on the side of the bed closest to his brother, gently trying to pry Butch’s arms off of you without waking him. At the frightened look on your face, Sans added, “don’t be scared, Thyme. I just can’t get a good look at him with you laying so close.”

“What’s going on with him, Sans?” You asked as you crawled out of bed, wishing more than anything that you could stay. Butch squirmed in his sleep, his brow furrowed as he tossed around, and Axe had to hold you back to keep you from running back to the bed.

“let me see his soul, first.” Sans glanced at you and Axe, and Axe pulled you a few more steps away from the bed. You found one of Axe’s hands and squeezed it tightly.

The light in Sans’ right socket went out, but the light in his left socket turned into a bright, almost neon yellow. With a jolt you realized you had seen that color once before. The night that he had put peanut butter on Edge’s doorknob; the night he had taken you on the roof to stargaze and told you about the timelines. Sans stood very still, his hands in the pockets of his blue hoodie, as he looked Butch over with his yellow light.

“well,” Sans turned to you and Axe as his light turned white again and the other flickered on in his right socket, “his soul is just fine. no cracks, no anything. it’s never looked better.”

“...then what… is all this?” Axe gestured to the grey plasma swirling around your ankles. “...he’s… never had this… happen before.”

“So he’s alright?” you asked, feeling a small amount of relief after hearing Sans’ words. “He was showing gold yesterday, in the kitchen, but he told me not to worry about it…”

“yesterday?” Sans asked, his bony brow raised at you curiously. You nodded and quickly described your conversation, about the mixed color that Butch’s flush had become.

“Haven’t you… haven’t you seen this before?” You tried to stress the meaning in your words to Sans, knowing that it wouldn’t be a good idea to say what you meant outright. If Sans hadn’t told his brothers his secret, he had a reason.

“no.” Sans’ white lights found your eyes and he held your gaze. You knew that he caught what you really meant. “I haven’t. but I’m pretty sure I can figure it out. do you mind if we use your room, Thyme?”

“Of course!” You nodded and felt Axe squeeze your hand. “What should we do?”

“you need to leave.” Sans held up a hand to stop your words of protest. “it’s for your safety. I know what happens when you breathe in too much of Pap’s magic. Axe and I can’t have you lose your head while we try to figure this out.”

“But Butch’s magic isn’t doing anything to me!”

“it’s just a precaution.” Sans shrugged sadly, sounding sorry, and looked at Axe for help.

“...I’ll be here.” Axe tugged at your hand and gently led you away from the bed and towards the narrow stairs. “...don’t worry, Willow. ...I’ll… come find you… as soon as we… know more.”

“I don’t want to leave him.” You chewed your lip and looked back over at Butch, who was still asleep and unaware that Sans had come to his side to examine the golden plasma clinging to his palms. “I promised I wouldn’t.”

“...you’re not breaking… your promise.” Axe turned your face towards his, his red eye light hazy with affection as he gazed at you. “...just wait downstairs… for a bit. ...okay?”

Feeling defeated, you gave Axe a shallow nod. He cupped your cheek and leaned in, pressing his teeth to your lips. The small taste of iron he slipped you gave you a bit of comfort and, reluctantly, you left him at the top of the steps while you headed down the narrow stairs.

At first you just stood in front of your closed door, straining your ears as you tried to listen for any clue that might tell you what was happening. Soon, your anxiety wouldn’t let you be still anymore and you were pacing back and forth, between the railing overlooking the entryway and your bathroom, absentmindedly chewing your nails.

Even that wasn’t enough. You stopped at the railing and gripped the smooth, spiraling wood tightly in your hands. You looked past the crystal chandelier and down into the dark entrance hall. Pacing wasn’t good enough, you wanted to  _ do _ something.

You carefully made your way down the dark, oak steps. When you were little, and you woke up in the middle of the night from a nightmare, your dad would make you a cup of hot chocolate to make you feel better. While you certainly weren’t dealing with a bad dream, the thought of some small comfort the memory could still give you had you flicking on the kitchen light to search the cupboards.

As you rifled through the different cans, boxes, and jars in the cupboards, you found your anxiety easing slightly. Having some kind of goal, even if that goal was a cup of cocoa, helped you focus away from your nerves.

It was by chance that you happened to glance at the tin of cocoa mix on the top shelf. There were only a few things up that high and it was easy to figure out why. Pap, Mutt, and Edge were the only ones tall enough to reach that shelf. You cursed to yourself and tried to climb onto the marble counter, one of your hands stretched out for the tin while the other kept you from falling.

Why the hell would Pap put something up so high if his brothers could just grab it with magic? That’s who you assumed owned the hot chocolate, since you didn’t think Mutt would like something so sweet without spice added to it, and you couldn’t imagine that Edge would like chocolate. Then again, it had been hard to picture Red liking chocolate, but he proved you wrong.

The hand anchoring you to the counter slipped and you felt yourself tumble. Before you could cry out, a pair of bony hands caught you around your waist and lifted you up to the highest shelf. A great sigh of relief escaped you as you took the brown tin in your hands.

“Thank you, Mu-” the name died on your lips as you looked over your shoulder to thank your savior. You thought that surely, being right under the kitchen, Mutt might’ve heard you and come up, but you were dumbfounded to see this strange reality. It wasn’t Mutt who had caught you, but Edge.

Edge didn’t seem to notice that you were surprised, or he didn’t care. He wasn’t even looking at your face. His narrowed eye lights were on your back, studying the scars that were at his socket level. With a jolt of fear you realized that Pap’s scarf must have come undone while you were sleeping and, having been so worried about Butch, you didn’t notice that it was now sitting loosely around your waist. 

You grabbed the fabric at your front and pulled it tight, hiding the scars on your lower back once more. Edge finally looked away and up at you, his red lights still narrowed, and he slowly set you down. His usual frown rested on his skull, along with one new addition. A crack ran from his left socket down to the top of his jaw, a strange mirror of the twin scars sitting above his right socket. You backed into the counter in shock.

“I KNEW I WAS RIGHT.” Edge’s voice was still sharp, but it had a strangely blunted quality that made you tilt your head. Edge rolled his eye lights at you and pointed at your back. “YOUR SCARS. THERE ARE MORE OF THEM. YOU COVER YOUR LEGS; ARE THEY THERE AS WELL?”

You squinted your eyes, unsure of his intentions. Did he catch you just so he could look at your scars? You had just been pacing outside his door and knew he was awake at night. Did he hear you and follow you downstairs?

“JUST HOW MANY DO YOU HAVE?”

“I don’t… want to talk about them.” You said, your eyes narrowing further. After his remarks to you at dinner last night you were upset that he had just seen more than you ever wanted to show him. Did he think you would just suddenly trust him and explain everything?

“WHY DO YOU HIDE THEM?” Edge glared down at you, persistent. His questions, though they were said with that blunted tone, made you uncomfortable. “I CAN GUESS THAT YOU KNOW BY NOW WHAT SCARS MEAN TO MONSTERS. SO WHY DO YOU COVER THEM?”

“I don’t owe you any explanation.” You tried to slide across the counter, to get away from Edge, but he quickly reached out and rested his hands against the marble to cut off your escape route. Fear spiked in your chest. You didn’t like being interrogated and cornered.

“JUST ANSWER THE QUESTIONS, PET.”

“No.”

“WHY HAVEN’T YOU USED THESE SCARS TO TRY AND INTIMIDATE ME?”

“No!”

“NO WHAT? THAT DOESN’T MAKE SENSE.”

“Stop talking about them!” Your hands trembled as they squeezed the tin of cocoa. “Why do you want to know? You don’t like me, you obviously don’t care about me, so what’s it matter to you? Why ask me at all?”

Edge gave an irritable sigh as he straightened back up and his hands fell away from the marble. “HOW ELSE AM I SUPPOSED TO ‘GET TO KNOW YOU’ IF I DON’T ASK QUESTIONS?” He made little quotes in the air with his bony fingers as he spoke. You blinked in surprise.

“G-get to know me?”

“IT’S PART OF ‘MAKING AN EFFORT.’” Edge sneered while he did the air quotes again and gritted his fangs in obvious frustration. “AS MY DEAR BROTHERS HAVE… POINTED OUT, DESPITE ALL OF MY WARNINGS, THEY WANT YOU HERE.”

“So you’re... trying to be friendly?” You asked in disbelief, your grip lessening on the tin as your eyes widened in astonishment. Is that why he caught you when you fell?

“CALL IT WHAT YOU WANT YOU INSUFFERABLE LITTLE-” Edge snapped his jaw shut, scowled, and roughly snatched the tin from your hands. You flinched away, expecting an onslaught of insults. But they never came. Instead, Edge strode over to the stove and flicked on one of the burners.

“What…” you asked, dumbfounded, as Edge pulled out a pan and summoned a jug of milk from the fridge with a cloud of black magic and gasoline, “What are you doing?”

“AS MY BROTHER SO ROUGHLY PUT IT, ‘MAKING IT UP TO YOU.’” Edge growled irritably as he splashed a generous amount of milk into the pan and placed it on the burner. “SO SIT DOWN AND SHUT UP. I WANT THIS STUPIDITY DONE WITH SO HE’LL GET OFF MY BACK ABOUT IT.”

You slowly took a seat at the table, hardly blinking, and watched Edge stir the milk so it didn’t burn. Maybe you did breathe in too much of Butch’s magic and it was affecting you. You were imagining all this. Edge was never nice to you, even after all the effort you made to try and connect with him. 

You pinched your arm and the pain told you that this was real, that you still had your wits about you. Something big must have happened last night after you ran out for Edge to act like this. As he poured the hot chocolate out and slammed the mug in front of you, sloshing chocolate all over the table, you glanced at the crack in his skull.

“Is… that why you followed me down here?” You asked carefully, trying to keep the wariness from your voice. If Edge really was giving you a chance by being nice, you didn’t want to blow it. Even though he had never said or done anything nice to you before, even though he attacked you the first night you were here, you knew that he deserved another chance from you, too. “Were you… waiting to run into me?”

“DON’T FLATTER YOURSELF.” Edge growled as he leaned back against the marble counter and crossed his arms. He watched you sip your hot chocolate with narrowed lights. “MAKE NO MISTAKE. I DON’T LIKE YOU, PET. I’M NOT DOING THIS BECAUSE I WANT TO.”

You lowered the mug and stared into its depths. His brothers put him up to this? You glanced at his injury again. You knew Edge was strong, his brothers had told you that already, so who had made that crack in his skull? A part of you was grateful that someone was so protective of you, but at the same time you didn’t want violence to be the answer. Softly, not looking away from the mug, you mumbled, “You don’t have to do this, Edge.”

“WHAT?”

“You don’t have to give me a chance if you don’t want to.” You looked up and held Edge’s skeptical look. “I don’t know who gave you that crack in your skull, but I’m sorry. I know it was because of me. I appreciate you doing this,” you gestured at the mug of cocoa, “for me. You can tell your brothers we made up and I’ll back you up on that. If, after this, you want to give me a chance and talk to me more, that should be your choice. I won’t let your brothers make you.”

Edge’s fingers tightened on the sleeves of his black turtleneck. From anger or something else, you couldn’t tell. His sharp voice was low as he said, “WHY? YOU HAVE MY BROTHERS IN THE PALM OF YOUR HAND. IF THEM FORCING ME TO DO THIS IS WHAT YOU WANT, WHY WOULD YOU CHANGE YOUR MIND NOW?”

“I never had any intention of forcing this,” you said calmly and sipped your cocoa again. “So don’t make it sound like I’m manipulating them. I would never do that to anybody, let alone the people I love.”

You caught the slightest movement as Edge’s brow twitched, but it quickly settled again into furrowed suspicion. “AND IF I WERE TO, AS YOU SAY, ‘GIVE YOU A CHANCE,’ WOULD YOU ANSWER MY QUESTIONS?”

“I guess,” you shrugged. “But if they’re about my scars, you get only one. I’ll give you that as an expression of my trust, that you’ll mean it if you want to give me a chance, but otherwise I don’t want to talk about them. So only ask if you really do mean it.”

Edge strode away from the counter and took the seat directly across from you. He steepled his fingers in front of his face and wore that same strange look he had during dinner last night. He watched you for a long time in contemplative silence. Your cocoa was almost gone when he finally asked, “WHY DIDN’T YOU FIGHT BACK?”

“Against what?” You drained the last of your cocoa, your tone pleasant despite the sharpness still in his voice.

“AGAINST THE FIRE THAT BURNED YOU. IT OBVIOUSLY HURT YOU, TRIED TO KILL YOU, BUT YOU HAVE NO LOVE OR EXP. WHY WOULD YOU LET IT GO?”

“I couldn’t fight.” You said and looked into Edge’s red lights. “That fire wasn’t an elemental being or magic cast by another. Even if it was, some things in life are bigger than you no matter what you do or how you prepare. You can’t fight against everything.”

“THEN WHY DO YOU NOT SEEK LOVE?” Edge mumbled into his hands, that strange look in his eye lights. “TO PROTECT YOURSELF?”

“I do. But I don’t think we’re talking about the same kind of love, are we?” You asked and quirked your brow at him. “Can I ask you a question now?” Edge shrugged noncommittally, so you took that as an okay. “Why do you hate humans so much?”

“MIND YOUR OWN BUSINESS.” Edge growled, his fingers tightening against each other. You had clearly touched a nerve.

“That’s okay. Now we know what topics to avoid with each other.” You nodded gently and ran your thumb over the handle of the mug. You remembered something Red had once said in your defense against Edge, that you weren’t like ‘her.’ With Edge’s determined avoidance of the topic, could it be that his hatred for humans stemmed from just that one in particular?

If you could, if he was really giving you a chance, you would have to show him that you really were different from the one he knew. “Thank you, Edge. For trying to be nice to me.”

“I AM NOT NICE!” Edge snapped indignantly.

“You haven’t insulted me once this whole time.” You pointed out, purposefully leaving out the near insult he had made earlier. He had stopped himself, hadn’t he?

“DON’T ASSUME THAT I HAVEN’T THOUGHT ABOUT IT!” Edge lowered his hands so you could see the snarl on his face. “BUT HOW AM I SUPPOSED TO ‘MAINTAIN A LACK OF HOSTILITY’ IF I SPEAK MY MIND?”

“you could mind your manners, for one.”

Your head whipped around at the pun and spotted Sans in the archway. You leapt from your seat, knocking the mug over, in your rush to get to him.

“Is he okay? What’s going on?” You asked quickly, grabbing the sleeve of his blue hoodie. Sans took your hand and gave it a squeeze.

“he’s fine, Thyme.” Sans said, his white lights glancing over your shoulder at Edge. “Butch is just… his magic is changing color.”

“WHAT?!” Edge also leapt from his seat. The chair fell back onto the tile with a clatter as Edge stormed over. “WHAT HAPPENED TO HIM? IS HE HURT?”

“I dunno what happened.” Sans shrugged, a lazy grin on his face as he looked between you and Edge. “but it’s not hurting him any. he’ll probably be asleep for awhile until the new magic pushes the old stuff out, but he’ll be fine.”

“DON’T LIE! YOU KNOW SOMETHING, YOU ANNOYING PRAT!” Edge shoved you out of the way, into the table, and got into Sans’ face. “YOU ALWAYS DO! MAGIC DOESN’T JUST CHANGE RANDOMLY! WHAT ARE YOU HIDING?!”

“Why not? Why doesn’t it change?” You asked nervously, clinging to the side of the table to keep from falling. Sans calmly sidestepped Edge and helped you to your feet. “Is this really a big thing, Sans?”

“OF COURSE IT IS!” Edge shouted, quickly getting into a rage and filling the kitchen with the smell of gasoline. You and Sans hushed him before he could wake the whole house.

“in this case, it’s not a bad thing.”

“HOW CAN IT NOT BE? MINE USED TO BE BROWN AND SMELLED LIKE PINE BEFORE-” Edge’s jaw snapped shut, a black flush covering his nasal ridge even as he gritted his fangs in fury and his red lights darted towards you. “DAMMIT SANS, YOU FUCKING VANILLA MORON!”

“it’s not a bad thing, Edge. just calm down.”

“FUCK YOU!” Edge barked, then disappeared, leaving only the smell of gasoline behind.

You stared at the spot Edge had just been, in shock. His magic had been brown once? You turned to Sans, your eyes wide, and noticed that his lights were just as big. “Did you know…?”

“nope.” Sans shook his skull.

“Then… why?” You asked, squeezing his hand tightly. “I don’t understand what’s going on. Is magic supposed to change, and is it good or bad if it does?”

“it can be either one, I suppose.” Sans scratched at his skull, sounding unsure. “I don’t know much about this. I don’t think anyone does. all I know is that our magic is what makes us. it’s a direct manifestation and representation of ourselves. so my guess is that something big changed in Butch. something to do with you.”

“M-me?” you stuttered.

Sans’ grin stretched as he looked at you. “even asleep, he wouldn’t stop calling out for you.”

You felt your whole face flush at the thought. “Wh-what about Axe?”

“he’s with Butch, watching him. they’re in their room now.” Sans snatched your arm and pulled you back as you made a dash for the stairs.

“Let me go to him, Sans!” You snapped, trying to tug your hand from his grasp. Sans shook his skull and pulled you into him to keep you from running. You fought against the embrace. “Let me go!”

“you know I can’t let you be around that much magic.” Sans said in your ear as you tried to push him away. “it’s dangerous. you shouldn’t breathe it in and if Butch wakes up there’s no guarantee that he’ll have control over what his magic does at first. you could get seriously hurt, or worse.”

“H-how do you know that?” You bit your lip, fighting the burning in your eyes as you felt angry with yourself for slowly stopping to try and get away and just letting Sans hug you. You promised you wouldn’t leave, but here you were in the hall. Butch wanted you there, he called out for you, and your heart broke from not being able to go. “If I could just be there while he’s sleeping…”

“I know you promised, but he’s summoning in his sleep.” Sans gently ran his fingers over your exposed back, calming you. “Axe and I can defend ourselves, but I don’t think you’re fast enough to dodge chaotic summons. you don’t have magic to use as a shield, either, so you have to stay away for now. Butch would feel terrible if he knew he accidentally hurt you or...”

You heard the pain in Sans’ low voice as it trailed off and he squeezed you tightly. If he really thought you could die, if he was that afraid for you, then maybe you should listen. He wasn’t the type to get worried over nothing. 

“You really think he’s going to be okay?” You whispered to the side of his skull and he nodded. If Sans thought Butch was going to be alright, then you trusted his judgement. “So do we just… go back to bed?”

“eh, if you want to, you can come with me to my room.” Sans offered and you could feel his skull warm against your cheek. “your door is open, but your room is still full of magic. you should let it air out before going back in.”

“You just want me to sleep with you, don’t you?” You leaned back, a smile pulling at your cheeks as you teased him to distract yourself from your worry. The blue color on his nasal ridge deepened. “How am I supposed to find it? Your room is filthy.”

“the bed isn’t.” Sans smirked.

“What, no dirty joke?” You giggled and Sans laughed, your grin widening at the melodic tumble of notes.

“don’t trash talk my puns,” Sans tugged at your hand and led you back up the stairs. “I never recycle material.”

“Don’t dump them all at once,” you said as Sans opened his door for you, letting you find the mattress before he closed it behind you and plunged you both into total darkness, “or I’ll think you’re trying too hard.”

“sounds like you’ve bin there before.” Sans chuckled, his white lights floating through the dark. The mattress shook as he plopped down beside you some distance away. With a flash of blue magic he pulled the blanket over you, taking none of it for himself. The lights of his eyes vanished as he closed his sockets and you were left staring at the dark, the smell of damp wood fading as you turned over your thoughts.

“Hey, Sans?”

“hm?”

You rolled over and looked at the place you thought his skull was. “Joking aside, I wanted to ask you… who put that crack in Edge’s skull?”

“why, is he still giving you a hard time?”

“No.”

“then what does it matter?”

“I didn’t want that.” You reached out blindly, feeling for Sans, and one of his sockets cracked open as you found his elbow. “If you don’t want to tell me who did it, that’s fine, but can you at least tell them that I don’t like that kind of violence? You’re brothers, you should never do that to each other.”

“even if it’s payback?” Sans asked, a hardness to his low voice.

“Especially if it’s payback.”

“...yeah, I’ll pass on the message.”

“Thank you,” you said, though now you had a pretty good idea who had done it. “Sans?”

“what’s up?”

“Do you… mind if I hold you while I sleep?” White lights appeared in the darkness as he opened his sockets and you quickly added, “You said you wanted to take your time with us, and I respect that but I… I’m still worried. I could use the comfort so I thought if I asked…”

Those white lights found your gaze, giving you the strong impression that Sans could see in the dark. You waited in the silence, your cheeks warming with each passing moment, until Sans reached his arm around you and gave you a small nudge. Grasping blindly, you found him and curled up at his side, your head on his chest. His arm came down to rest over your ribs. Though you couldn’t see, you could feel him fiddling with something on his wrist.

“Thank you,” you whispered. You draped your arm over his middle and it sank into his hoodie, since he had no stomach to hold it up. Sans said nothing back, but he did give your side a small squeeze; the glow from his eyes acting like a nightlight against the dark.

~~~

It was hard to tell exactly how long you laid there in the dark. With the window boarded up, the room seemed to be suspended in perpetual night. The only thing that happened to show that time was passing was that Sans’ breathing eventually deepened as he fell asleep. 

Your thoughts continued to march past your mind’s eye and kept you awake. Your worry for Butch made your chest feel tight, even though you tried to silently reassure yourself that he was fine. He had smiled at you in his sleep, before you were taken out of your room. He had Axe watching over him. Sans wasn’t worried about what was happening. ...but Edge was. He thought that Butch had been hurt, had said that his own magic had changed once before and that it was from, you guessed, something bad.

If Butch’s magic was changing because of something good, what had happened to Edge? What was so big that it had changed his very self? Because that’s what Sans said magic was to them, a direct representation of their selves…

Your thoughts returned to the brother you knew best out of two who had changed: Butch. His magic was (had been?) grey and smelled like sweet rot. It had started to change after he told you about his and Axe’s past and the horrors that had happened in the Fourth District. They had been afraid that you would hate them for what they did.

A small gasp escaped you as you realized that might have happened. Sans guessed it was something you did, so could it have been your acceptance? You knew firsthand what it felt like when you bore your trauma to someone else and had them open their hearts anyway. You had felt lighter. Better than you had in a long time, as Butch had described. As Sans once said, it felt like something poisonous had been removed from the soul.

But you couldn’t know for sure until you talked to Butch.

Sans shifted in his sleep and you held onto his hoodie tightly. Why hadn’t Sans’ soul changed color after telling you about the timelines? Or Axe, after he knew that you had heard his story and accepted him anyways? Your theory made sense, but it couldn’t be the entire reason if it didn’t apply to others. It also didn’t explain Edge, who acted like the change was a bad thing. He had thought that Butch had been hurt. You were definitely missing something.

You shifted restlessly, knowing that you wouldn’t be able to fall back asleep, but unable to come up with any new ideas. If the sun was coming up, if the storm had lessened a bit, you could do your job and get started on the drive. It would be better to do something instead of laying here thinking in circles. Not to mention that midterms would be coming up soon and your professors probably have a boatload of homework to prepare you for your tests; you might not have time to do any grounds keeping later.

Sans mumbled something in his sleep as you gently extracted yourself from his side. You smiled, thankful that he had let you stay with him, and covered him with the warm blanket. Using your hands, you searched for the edge of the bed and made your way as quietly as you could across the trash covered floor. A wrapper crinkled as you stepped on it and you froze, looking over your shoulder for any white lights, but Sans slept like a log.

After the total darkness of the room, your eyes watered at the morning light filtering into the house. You glanced down the hall, at your room, wondering if you could go and get your phone. As you approached your cracked door you knew it wasn’t going to happen. Grey plasma drifted out across the floor and curled around your feet like it was trying to grab at you. How were you going to check if your school was open? Maybe you could make a cup of coffee and then...

You perked up and headed towards the other end of the hall. If Milord thought the weather was too bad to go into work, and you knew how dedicated he was, then your school would probably have the same idea.

Halfway down the hall, you saw the door across from Butch’s room open. Milord stepped out of the bathroom, a fluffy white towel wrapped around his pelvis, steam drifting off his bones. You froze, openly staring at (more like staring through) his rib cage and the rest of his bare skeleton. His purple lights found you and he stiffened, a lavender flush blooming across his skull. Without a single word he slowly backed into the bathroom and shut the door.

After you got over your fascination of seeing a bare skeleton moving around, you realized you had just seen Milord almost naked. Your cheeks burned as you fled down the oak steps. Somehow, you always thought the brothers had more to them, despite knowing that they were skeleton monsters. Maybe it was because of the clothes?

You hurried to the kitchen to start a pair of lattes, your face still red. You had never imagined that seeing something like that would embarrass you; it was just bones. You had seen them before, you studied them in Human Anatomy. But it was different this time. It wasn’t just a nameless cadaver you saw, or a labelled diagram - it was someone you cared about. With a small swooping feeling in your guts, you finally understood exactly how Pap felt when he saw your x-rays.

As you moved the milk to another burner while you did the pour over, you remembered that intimate moment in Milord’s room and your embarrassment multiplied. He had said something so sweet, had held you so close then, and leaned in like he was going to kiss you. But he had stopped himself and sent you away instead. Why had he done that?

The click of Milord’s boots echoed from the entryway into the kitchen, interrupting your thoughts. You jumped, flustered, and knocked over the espresso you had been making.

“I’m sorry!” You squeaked, avoiding looking at Milord as he walked into the kitchen by grabbing the towel from the stove and attacking the puddle of coffee. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry!”

The towel pulled itself from your hands and floated over to the sink to wring itself out. Milord conducted it from afar, his gloved hands dripping lavender magic, a neutral look on his face. He caught your gaze and said with a chill in his tone, “If we don’t speak of it, it didn’t happen. Understand?”

You nodded, surprised at how cold he sounded. Was he angry with you? The towel bumped against your shoulder and you took it out of the air, turning back towards the counter to finish cleaning up your mess.

“So, um,” you said, making an attempt at normal conversation, “are you going in to work today?”

“No. The storm may have passed, but the mountain is still treacherous.” Milord said coolly, his voice a lot closer than you thought it would be. You glanced over your shoulder just in time to catch his purple lights on your back before they turned resolutely towards the stove. “Remember to turn the burner back on, Zeta. I refuse to drink lukewarm coffee.”

“Oh, sure.” You twisted the knob on the stove to low and watched Milord take a seat at the table. He waited in icy silence as you washed your hands and redid your pour over, his purple eye lights focused on the window over the sink and the snow falling gently outside it.

You brought a steaming latte over to Milord, your mind whirring as you thought. If he was angry because he was embarrassed, would it be a fair trade if you gave him permission to sate his curiosity?

“Do you want to see them?” You asked quietly, turning your mug in your hands as Milord sipped from his. His eye lights darted from the window over to you. You turned around and presented your back, looking over your shoulder to see how he reacted. “It’s okay to look, Milord. You can… you can touch them, too, if you want. I trust you.”

“I would have assumed, given your reaction last night,” Milord said as his eye lights slowly drifted down to your back, “that you would be against this much exposure.”

“That’s why I was wearing Pap’s scarf. I’d redo it, but it’s so long I don’t think I can tie it again by myself.” You said quietly and turned your head forward, your cheeks pink. “It’s not so bad. The worst of it is on my legs, but at least I know I can cover those.”

“I see…” Milord trailed off and you felt his gloved hand gently touch your back. You flinched, not expecting the contact, and he quickly pulled away.

“It’s okay,” you said, looking over your shoulder at his wide lights. “I’m still getting used to anyone touching them, and my back is kind of sensitive.”

Milord’s lights narrowed, questioning you. You nodded reassuringly and turned your gaze forward again. It was a moment before you felt his hand on your back again, and this touch felt slightly different. Glancing over your shoulder, you saw that Milord had removed one of his gloves before touching you.

“So, forgive me if this is rude to ask,” you began slowly, not wanting to offend him, “but if skeletons don’t get cold, and you don’t leak magic, why do you wear gloves?”

Milord’s hand drifted across your back and settled at your waist, his eye lights lingering at the sight of the contact. The ice had left his voice as he quietly said, “Because normally, I abhor touching things. Especially if I consider them dirty.”

His thumb slowly started to drift back and forth over your bare skin. Even as you watched, his lights started to get hazy, then he seemed to snap back to himself and quickly put his glove back on.

“Well, thanks for not thinking that I’m dirty.” You turned around, recognizing that he was done, and gave him a small smile. As you made to take a seat, Milord stood up and stopped you. He turned you around again and the scarf ruffled against your waist. The scent of frost drifted up to tickle your nose while Milord used his magic to retie to long, red fabric around your lower back.

“I will if you don’t change.” Milord gestured at your clothes and retook his seat.

“I’ll change after I shovel.” You shrugged, smiling, and sat at the table as well to finish your latte. “No sense in getting into clean clothes if I’m just going to dirty them right away.”

“I thought I had advised you to expand your wardrobe?” Milord rolled his eye lights, though a smirk tugged at his pointed teeth. “Yet you neglect your own necessities in favor of wasting your money on us.”

“Don’t start on that again, it’s not a waste if it’s what I wanted to do.” You rolled your eyes back at him and gave him an exaggerated sigh. “And if anyone is wasting my money, it’s those who aren’t using my gifts.”

“Perhaps they aren’t aware of how to do so.”

“Then they should ask so I can teach them.”

Milord shook his skull, trying to hide his growing amusement and failing. “I’m starting to believe that you’re just shirking your work, Zeta.”

“Oh come on, I have all day to shovel snow. Just go get your damned chessboard, stop being stubborn, and let me teach you how to play.”

“And if I decline?” Milord let his smirk show. You narrowed your eyes at him.

“I’ll go into your room, steal your desk chair, and use it as my dirty laundry hamper.”

“Unlike you, I take the precaution of locking my door when I leave.” Milord quirked his brow at you, his smirk widening. “Try again.”

“....I’ll lick your face.”

“Your attempt would be unsuccessful, given that I now have prior warning.”

“Oh, it won’t be right now,” you grinned devilishly and leaned closer over the table. Milord backed away, a look of wariness on his skull. “It could be later today, or tomorrow, or even next week. The point is, I’ll wait until you’re least expecting it. So you can play a game of chess with me, or live in suspense until I get you.”

Milord eyed you shrewdly, his purple lights examining your face, and he gave a tired sigh. His gloved hand came up to hold his skull as he shook it, giving the impression of exasperation, but you could just see the corner of his mouth was turned up in a grin. “Of course you’re tenacious enough to follow through with such a threat, aren’t you? Fine. You have half an hour of my time before I must return to my work.”

“I won’t waste a second of it.” You smiled, watching him disappear in the blink of an eye.

The smell of frost drifted over the table and chilled your fingers as you traced the lip of your mug. If you didn’t know any better, if you hadn’t already had a moment with him, you could have sworn Milord was just flirting with you in his own stiff way. Your cheeks turned pink at the thought. Did he like you like that or not? If he did, why did he push you away?

You looked up at the rattle of wood against wood and watched Milord set the box on the table. You tightened your grip on your mug, determined to find out his thoughts.

“I’ll get it all set up,” you said as you hopped to your feet and took out the chessboard, “then I’ll explain how each one moves for you.”

“If you insist.” Milord resumed his seat at the table, his eye lights watching your hands carefully as you placed the carved pieces.

“Do you want to make the first move?” You asked. Milord paused as he brought his mug up to his teeth and raised a brow at you. “It determines what color you play as.”

“No.” A small dusting of lavender crossed his nasal ridge, then disappeared as he hid it with his mug. “I’d rather examine how you play, first.”

“Okay,” you carefully turned the chessboard so that Milord had the black pieces and walked around the table so that you were standing behind him. As you spoke, you pointed over his shoulder at the tallest piece and said, “So the whole point of the came is to capture the king, this piece, or cause a checkmate. That means the king is unable to make another move without being taken.”

Milord’s hand came up to cup his chin thoughtfully as you pointed out each piece in turn, explained the way they moved, and any rules they had to follow. When you got to the knight, you gently leaned forward to pick the piece up, your other hand coming to sit on his shoulder. He didn’t flinch away, so you felt emboldened enough to let your chest rest against his back as you moved the knight to the center of the board.

“This one is a little unique.” You said to the side of his warm skull. You shifted the knight around to demonstrate as you explained, “It always moves in an L shape, in any direction you want, and it can move over any other piece without taking it. It took me awhile to figure this one out when my dad taught me, so don’t feel bad about asking if you’re not sure how to move.”

“What is the point of the pawns?” Milord picked up the knight and examined it. He didn’t seem to care that you were touching him, or he hadn’t noticed yet. “All they do normally is move one space. The game can be played just as effectively without them. Wouldn’t it be more efficient to play with only the back row?”

“Pawns can be useful.” You watched Milord set the knight back on its square and watched the side of his skull as he thought. He seemed totally unaffected by your touch. Maybe you had just imagined the tone of your earlier conversation? You straightened up and took the seat across from him. “If you can get one a pawn all the way to the other side of the board, you can trade it for one of the pieces you already lost. Feel ready to play, now?”

Milord nodded and you moved your first pawn. He quickly followed with his own move and you both sat in thoughtful silence as you played.

After some time, when more than half the pieces were scattered across the board and Milord had just successfully taken your second bishop, he asked, “Do humans also have a monarchy as their established government?”

You looked up, feeling frustrated that Milord had somehow found a way to foil your strategy to take his castle. “No. At least, not here. I think there still are some countries that have a monarchy. Why?”

“The monikers of these pieces.” Milord used his castle to take one of your knights and held it up. “Queen, King, knight and bishop. All of them bear the titles of those at court. Why is that?”

“My dad told me that, back when we still had Kings as rulers, they invented chess as a way to develop war strategies.” You turned your attention towards his queen, determined to take at least one important piece from him before you went after the king. “I don’t know if that’s entirely true, but I’d like to think it is.”

“For what purpose?” Milord asked as he took another of your pawns. You cursed under your breath; you were counting on that pawn to get your knight back.

“I think using wooden pieces is a better way to learn than sacrificing actual people.” You moved your bishop towards Milord’s queen, then immediately regretted it as he swooped in with a knight and took it.

“I agree,” Milord watched as you took his castle, feeling slightly victorious before he set his castle near your king and declared checkmate. “However, in times of war, sacrifices are necessary to ensure victory.”

“If you can call it that.” You sighed and tipped over your king, admitting defeat. “Is it really a victory if both sides suffer?”

Milord stared at your fallen king, his purple lights wavering sadly. You felt your chest tighten painfully at the sight, then quickly started moving the pieces back to their starting places. You said a little too lightheartedly, “We have time for another game, right?”

“I suppose.” Milord sighed and looked away from the board, at the small clock on the stove. “Just one more, Zeta, then I have to get back.”

Your eyes examined the tired look he tried to hide and you felt worry bubble up in your stomach. “Milord, are you okay?”

“I’m fine.” Milord snapped, his tone icy and his expression suddenly hard.

“You seem stressed. Why don’t you take the day off and hang out with me?”

“I can’t do that!” Milord snarled and his voice could have caused snow to fall in the warm kitchen. “I have far too much responsibility to neglect my duties.”

You looked up from the pieces in your hand, about to tell him that you weren’t asking him to shirk his work, but decided against it. He already seemed too irritated and you didn’t want to push him. As you moved your first pawn, you tried for a change in topic. “Hey, Milord?”

“What?” He said coldly, moving his knight out from behind the back line.

“You never really told me, but I was wondering why you call me Zeta.”

Milord quirked his brow at you and made a move. “Isn’t it obvious? Given that I’ve already educated you on the subject, I’m surprised you haven’t been able to deduce the answer for yourself.”

“Um, no, that’s why I’m asking.”

Milord rolled his eye lights in a display of mock irritation. “Zeta represents a number whose discrete values are the positive roots of transcendental equations, used in the series solutions for transient one dimensional conduction equations.”

Your hand hovered over your next chosen piece, your jaw slightly open in astonishment. “Your nickname comes from a  _ math problem? _ ”

“A specific representation of a variable, to be precise.” Milord corrected you and his hard expression softened at the look of confusion on your face.

“You know I’m terrible at math, you nerd!” You moodily knocked over one of his pawns with your bishop and swiped it from the board. “How was I supposed to figure that out without your help?”

“Perhaps… that was the point.” Milord said quietly and rested his chin on a propped up hand. You watched him stare at the board, that sad look coming to his eye lights again, and let him think on his next move in silence.

It was beyond strange to see that look of defeat creep onto his face, despite him winning the previous game. Your eyes glanced at the clock and you noticed that you had gone over the half hour mark. Did he actually feel guilt for taking a break with you? You both had a snow day yesterday, and today too, but he was still working from home. He always seemed to be doing that, even on his days off. He only seemed to stop to eat and tutor you. Who knows how much he slept. If anything, you felt he should feel guilty for not taking a moment to himself.

As Milord finally raised a finger and moved his queen with a small cloud of lavender magic, you gently offered, “Do you think, after I finish the drive and you wrap up what you need to do for work, we could get back together and play one more game?”

“Doubtful.” Milord darted his queen around the board, taking your pieces swiftly and without mercy. “My labor is never finished and it’s time I returned to it. Checkmate.”

You stared in astonishment at how quickly Milord had beaten you. He pushed back his chair, quietly stood, and vanished without another word. You stared at the board in silence, amazed that he had won in minutes. He couldn’t have practiced before, he didn’t even know what the board was when you first gave it to him, so he must have figured everything out just while you were sitting together. That thought amazed you. You knew Milord was smart, but to go from a novice to a master in half an hour...

If he could’ve won so easily, and wanted to get back to work, why had he taken so much time on your first game?

~~~

Fat, fluffy flakes of snow drifted down from the steel grey sky to melt on your hot neck. You tossed another shovel full of powder over the makeshift wall you were building on the edge of the drive. With a great plume of mist, you sighed and leaned against the shovel to look back on your work.

Now that you knew the boundaries, it had only taken a couple hours of hard work to clear the path from the house to the road. You hoped dearly that some kind of plow would come up the mountain to clear your way to the bus stop, or you would be hiking through the drifts to get to school tomorrow.

You stretched your aching back and took a moment to appreciate your hard efforts. Earlier, you had been very close to taking back your decision to work. You had remembered Axe’s worry and that song you heard on the winds of the storm. But you had also remembered Mutt’s reassurances and his network of cameras. You had even stuck your head out of the door, your ears straining for any sign of that strange warbling noise, but the forest was silent; not even the wind blew.

The gently falling snow settled in your hair and you shook your head to clear it. The cold air felt good against the sweat of your overworked body, but you knew that you were actually chilled and needed to warm up. Just the thought of a hot bath had you dragging the shovel back towards the house, accompanied by thoughts of warm food and sitting on a squishy couch with a blanket and one of your books.

After the frigid temperatures outside, the entryway inside the house felt like a sauna. You stripped off your leather jacket, still panting from the physical effort, thankful to let your damp back breathe. How could you sweat so much in the winter? Even if you were doing a lot of physical activity, sweating this much should be against the laws of nature.

You untied an end of Pap’s scarf and wiped at your face, which was warm and red from both the exercise and the cold. You would have to wash it before giving it back to him, you didn’t realize how much work that drive could be with only a foot of snow on it.

Noises drifted down the hall from the kitchen. You recognized Pap’s white chest plate as it flashed between the space of the archway. The delicious smells of frying hot dogs wafted down the hall and made your stomach growl. Smiling, thinking of saying hello to Pap as you went to grab your laundry from the basement, you made your way towards the kitchen.

“That smells amazing, Pap.” You sighed as you stepped through the archway. “I’m starving.”

“HONEY! EXCELLENT TIMING! I COULD USE AN EXTRA PAIR OF HANDS.” Pap turned from the crackling pan on the stove, tongs in his mittens, and his eye lights narrowed at your disheveled appearance and your flushed cheeks.

You approached the counter to inspect lunch. A potato salad sat at the ready, but a colander of noodles sat in the sink, waiting. “I’d be happy to help out with lunch, but I’d like to shower first. I feel kind of gross at the moment.”

“WHAT HAVE YOU BEEN DOING?” Pap dropped the tongs on the counter and turned you towards him, examining you. His lights lingered on your sweaty neck and chest, on your flushed cheeks.

“My job?” you offered, watching as his lights started to lose their definition and Pap gained a distant look. “Pap? You okay?”

“YES...” Pap mumbled vacantly and looked between the pan on the stove and you.

“Are you sure?” You touched his arm, worry filling you from his sudden change in demeanor. “Do you need my help that much? I can stay, if you don’t mind that I smell bad.”

“NO,” Pap stepped forward and wrapped his arms around you. Heat flushed your cheeks more than they already were as he nuzzled the top of your head and pressed against you. “YOU SMELL GOOD, HONEY. REALLY,  _ REALLY _ GOOD.”

“P-pap? What’s gotten into you?” You stuttered, feeling his hands start to wander over your sides. You had a feeling he liked you; he got flustered easily when you were around and he acted jealous when Axe got too handsy with you, but he never had been this bold before with affection.

With a jolt, you realized what had come over him. Why didn’t you consider the possibilities of what could happen if you exercised during your heat? If a human could smell another’s sweat, you couldn’t imagine how powerful that had to be to a monster. You must be practically saturated in the scent, if your damp clothes were any indication.

Even though you knew your heat couldn’t force Pap to act a certain way, you seriously questioned this fact as he picked you up and set you on the counter so he could comfortably bury his face in your neck, his breath coming in heavy pants. His orange tongue ran across your skin, your soft spot, and you shivered.

“Is this,” you put a hand on his chest, trying to get Pap to pause as he nipped at your neck, “is this what you want?”

“YES.” Pap growled and pressed his teeth to your lips, kissing you with an aggressive want that you had never thought he had.

An acrid, burning smell drifted across your face and the building warmth in your stomach was doused in ice. You let out a terrified scream and nearly fell off the counter in your hurry to back away from the smoking pan on the stove. Pap’s skull turned as he, too, smelled the black smoke and heard your terror. His eye lights snapped back into focus and his skull lost its orange flush as he pulled you from the counter.

“GO, I’LL TAKE CARE OF THIS.” He said quickly and pulled one of his red mittens off with his teeth. A cascade of orange magic flooded over the flames on the stove. The scent of brown sugar fought the smell of smoke and Pap pushed you from the kitchen with a series of gentle, one handed shoves punctuated by his words. “GO, GO, GO.”

You ran up the oak steps, your heart pounding with fear, and only stopped to breathe when you were finally in your bathroom with the door shut behind you. You practically ripped off your clothes, desperate to reach the safe feeling of water that would chase away the memory of flames on your skin.

Under the warm cascade of the shower head, you felt yourself finally calm. You were okay, you were in water. Fire couldn’t reach you here.

As you lathered in flowery smelling soap, you felt guilt bubble up for what your heat had done to Pap. How could you be so inconsiderate? You should have known better. Mutt had said that the scent was inviting, but you never thought it could be so powerful as to make Pap forget that he was cooking.

You banged your head against the steamy tile on the wall. Pap had been so embarrassed when he saw your x-rays, how would he be now after this? Even though you had asked, and he said it was what he wanted, you didn’t think that his feelings for you ran that deep. Just how much influence did your heat have on his actions?

While you pulled a fluffy towel from the linen closet, you made up your mind to apologize. If you just talked to Pap and figured this out, then you would know for sure how careful you needed to be in the future. You also needed to thank him for facing that kitchen fire alone. He had seemed so calm, so in charge of the situation.

Your face flushed pink with admiration. You never would have been that brave.

You looked around the bathroom for your clothes, eager to go downstairs and say everything that was on your mind, but your stomach sank as you spotted only what you had been wearing when you shoveled. You still hadn’t gotten your laundry and you would be damned if you put back on your sweat soaked dress to go get it. What if it was enough to influence one of the other brothers?

Wrapping the towel tightly around your body, you cracked your door open and stared at the door across the hall. “Red?”

No answer. You called again, but still nothing. You wondered if he wasn’t there, or if he was wearing his headphones. 

Grabbing a shampoo bottle from the tub, you chucked it at his door with a resounding BANG and shouted, “Red!”

“fer fuck’s sake, what?!” He growled and pulled his door open. His headphones sat lopsided on his skull, showing that he had indeed been listening to music. His crimson eye lights narrowed at your bare shoulders and he looked confused as to why you were hiding behind the bathroom door.

“I forgot my clothes in the basement,” you mumbled, embarrassed. “Could you please get them for me?”

A slight crimson flush filled his nasal ridge as he realized that you were naked. “eh, sure. gimmie a minute.”

You murmured a thanks and shut the door with a click. Turning towards the mirror, you began to braid your wet hair while you waited for Red to return.

At the sound of shouting from downstairs, you stilled. Almost a minute later there was a bang on your door as Red announced his presence.

“yeh only get this once, hear me?” He growled, clearly irritated as he shoved your duffel bag through the opening you made with the door. 

“Everything okay?” You asked, peaking your head out in concern. Red had a plate of food balanced in his other hand and was already stomping towards the other end of the hall. He set the plate on the floor in front of Butch’s room and hammered angrily on the door before storming away.

“I ain’t no one’s errand bitch!” He snarled, stopping in front of you with an angry scowl. “an’ make sure yer in my room after yeh eat, got it?”

“For what?” You shied away, startled at his sudden temper.

“we had a deal.” Red rolled his crimson lights and turned back towards his room. “yeh made tha’ thing I wanted, so yeh get a Font lesson from me. don’ think I forgot.”

“Okay.” you said meekly as Red slammed his door shut. As you pulled out a clean sweater dress, you wondered if his brothers must have been teasing him again; he had gotten so irritated at their comments when he had helped you serve cake last night.

Donning a green sweater dress and black stockings, you dropped your duffel bag outside of your door (noting the grey magic still drifting down your stairs) and glanced down the hall. The plate was gone from in front of Butch’s door. You wondered if you should go check on him, remembered Sans’ warning, and slowly, reluctantly, turned from the end of the hall.

You made your way back to the kitchen cautiously. The smell of smoke was gone, and the sound of conversation drifted down the hall towards you. You recognized Mutt’s raspy voice, Milord’s icy tones, and Sans’ melodic laugh as Pap chastised him for his joke.

As you passed through the archway, multiple things happened at once. Pap’s fork fell to his plate with a clatter, an orange flush blooming across his skull as he avoided your gaze. He quickly excused himself and disappeared in a plume of brown sugar. Milord stood simultaneously, insulted Sans for his lowbrow form of humor, and also vanished in a puff of frost. Sans gave you a lazy smile and shoved his hands in his blue pockets. If he thought his brothers were acting weird, he didn’t show it.

“did Axe eat?” He asked calmly as Mutt waved at you from the table, then pointed at the plate of food next to him. 

“I think so.” you said to Sans. “Someone took the plate Red brought up.”

“good.” Sans nodded. “I’m going up to swap with him to make sure he gets some sleep. I just told the others about what’s happening, so don’t worry about trying to explain, okay?”

He clapped you on the shoulder and disappeared from the kitchen, leaving you and Mutt alone together.

“Hey, Robin.” Mutt greeted you with a smile as you took the seat next to him and picked at your plate. “Sounds like you had a lot happen this morning.”

“You could say that.” You sighed, thinking of Butch, Milord, and Pap.

“You’re really worried about him, aren’t you?” Mutt asked, his red lights soft as he watched you eat.

“...yeah.”

Mutt ran his fingers over your wet braid before he kissed the top of your head. “You’re too good for us, know that?”

“I don’t feel like I am.” You mumbled, looking at the empty seats around you. “I feel like I mess up a lot.”

“None of that.” Mutt pulled you from your chair and into his lap. As he nuzzled your ear, he whispered, “I feel like you’re the best thing that could’ve happened to this house, so hush that anxious noise in your soul. If Sans says Butch’s color change is a good thing, then you should listen and not worry so much.”

“It’s not just that.” You wrapped your arms around Mutt and held him tightly, burying your face in his black hoodie and breathing in the scent of clove. You wanted to tell him what happened, about your worries, but you knew how jealous he could be and didn’t want to cause any more tension. Instead, at his curious look, you asked, “Does Milord take enough time for himself? Does he take vacations?”

Mutt caught you by surprise with his raspy laugh. “I’ve known him my entire life, Robin, and I’ve never seen him take a day off. For everything he knows, I’m pretty sure he doesn’t understand the meaning of ‘vacation.’”

“Did he seem okay during lunch?”

“Meh,” Mutt shrugged. “A bit bitchier than usual, but that’s not saying much. Why?”

“I’m worried about him, too.” You squeezed at Mutt’s ribs through his hoodie, wondering how to broach your next concern without mentioning Pap. “Does my… does my heat still bother you?”

“Not too much.” Mutt twirled the end of your braid between his bony fingers and rested his skull on the top of your head. “It’s still there, but it wasn’t like when I first smelled it. I think the first day of your cycle will always be the most intense, since I won’t be used to it like I am now.”

“It’s not compelling at all?”

“It is,” Mutt pressed his teeth to your forehead in a small kiss, “but it’s not making me think things that aren’t already on my mind. You’re not forcing this on me, remember?”

“Well, say I um, worked up a sweat.” you asked nervously, “how would that change it? It would get more potent, right?”

“I’d imagine so.” Mutt scratched at the side of his skull thoughtfully. “It might be like when you’re hungry, and it’s the difference between smelling the food cooking from the other side of the house versus having it right in front of you, ready to eat. Does that make sense?”

“Yes,” you nodded, fully aware of what that felt like. “Just don’t let Axe or Butch hear you describe it like that. I know they’d hate the thought of you eating me.”

“I’d do it if you want me to.” Mutt growled and playfully nipped at your neck. 

“I’m serious, Mutt. Don’t say it that way again.”

“Yes ma’am.” Mutt gave you a pointed smirk and turned you so that your back was against his chest. He held you to him while he gently ran the points of his sharp teeth over your neck and you shivered with delight. “So, is that sweat thing what happened with Pap?”

Your face flushed with embarrassment as Mutt pulled your hips so they were resting over his pelvis. “How did you know?”

“He was twitchy at lunch.” Mutt’s breath was hot on your skin as he trailed his fingers up your legs. “And your scent was all over him.”

“Are you angry?” You shuddered as the tips of his fingers scraped against your thigh, sending a jolt of electricity up your leg as surely as a seam ripped on your stockings. His other hand made its way under your sweater to play at your chest. 

“No, but I am jealous.” Mutt growled in between nips at your neck. His other hand left your sweater dress and came up to pull at your braid, exposing your throat to him. You were nervous at his tone, but his touches were starting to turn your brain foggy. “He’s not your beta yet, is he?”

“N-no.”

“Then I’ll be damned if I let you walk around without a mark from your pack.” He bit at your neck again, right on your soft spot, and a small moan escaped you. “And you’re so stressed out today. I should really take care of you, shouldn’t I?”

“B-but, I’m…” you panted as his fingers disappeared between your legs. “Mutt, wait, someone might see us…”

“Not if I keep you quiet.” Mutt’s other hand left your braid and covered your mouth. “Axe tells me you’re a screamer.”

You moaned again as Mutt found that spot above your entrance and rubbed at it. You reached up and pulled his hand away from your mouth, panting, “but… you…”

“Don’t worry about me.” Mutt turned your face towards his and kissed you roughly. “I know you’ll take care of me eventually. Right now,” he brought his hand up and slipped it into your stockings, “I want to hear what it sounds like when I really get you going.”

You whined as he plunged his fingers into you and he slapped his other hand back over your mouth. As you moved with him, you could feel him growing hard beneath you and you ground your hips against his pelvis. An idea came to you, a way to keep him satisfied, too. You reached behind you and shoved your hand into his sweatpants, taking his member in your hand and stroking it with a pace to match his fingers. Mutt groaned and slid down in the chair, giving you a better angle, and quickened his pace on you. You followed his lead on him.  
“Stars, the things I would do to you if you let me,” Mutt groaned and pulled you back against his chest as he thrust against you. You moaned into his hand, wanting him inside you, able to imagine his fingers as something else and you gyrated your hips to show him how badly you wanted it, too, but unable to say anything past his bony palm.

His touch was electricity surging through your veins. Your free hand came up to scratch as the back of his skull, his neck vertebrae, and you dug in your nails as your moans became louder. He tightened his hold over your mouth and moved faster. You matched his pace and his breath became heavy in your ear as he tried to keep silent, too.

You came first, screaming against his palm at your peak. Mutt bit into your neck, stifling his own noise, as he shortly followed. The two of you collapsed on the chair, panting heavily. You took your hand from his sweatpants and he pulled his out of your stockings.

“Was it good for you, too?,” you quietly asked, pink in the face, as you carefully turned around to cuddle Mutt. He gave you a tired smirk, not ready for words just yet, and you responded by giving him a gentle kiss. He wrapped his arms around you, holding you close, and seemed content just to be with you in that moment.

After a long moment of silent contact, Mutt asked, “Want to come take a nap with me?”

“Didn’t you just wake up?” You raised an eyebrow at him as he smiled sheepishly. “I’ve got things to do yet. I don’t know how you can sleep so much.”

“I don’t know how you can still do things after getting off like that.”

“Just because I want to sleep doesn’t mean I have to.” You sat up and wagged a finger still slick with magic at Mutt. “Besides, Red asked me to meet him after lunch, so I feel like I shouldn’t put that off any longer unless I want him to be really angry with me.”

“You’re meeting Red?” Mutt’s eye lights sparked with surprise. “Why?”

“He’s teaching me how to speak Font.”

Mutt gave you a raspy chuckle. “Good luck with that, Robin. Red’s not exactly patient enough to teach.”

“I think he’ll do just fine.” You helped Mutt to his feet and he tugged you towards the basement door.

“Let me give you one of my other shirts to change into.” Mutt explained at your confused look. “You’re worried about how you smell, right?”

You nodded and followed Mutt down the creaky staircase. If Pap got weird just from you smelling like sweat, you didn’t want to know what would happen with Red if you went up smelling like sex.

“You’re room’s still full of magic, right? If you need a place to sleep, you’re welcome down here.” Mutt offered as he dug through one of his many laundry piles in search of a shirt. You nodded and took the orange t-shirt he held out to you, turned, and pulled your sweater dress off your head. 

You heard Mutt suck in a sharp breath and looked over your shoulder at him. “What?”

“If we hadn’t just...” Mutt sighed, his red lights hazy as he watched you pull his t-shirt on. “You sure have come a long way, Robin. Remember when I first caught you changing and you freaked out on me?”

“A lot’s happened since then.” You pulled the hem of the t-shirt over your black stockings, thankful that Mutt was tall enough, and the shirt long enough, that it covered you decently. “I’m not so afraid of showing some of my scars anymore. At least to people I trust.”

“Still not ready for the legs, then?” Mutt asked and stepped into you, wrapping his arms gently around you and squeezing.

“No. But I want to be.” You gave him a quick kiss and added, “Love you, Mutt. I appreciate the shirt, but I shouldn’t keep Red waiting much longer.”

“Love you too. Come find me later so we can hang out, okay?” Mutt ran his fingers over your hair one last time and let you go.

  
  



	15. Ch 15 - Words and Weapons

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> HOOO boy, here ya go, lovlies! Another chapter! I know that there's a lot of one character in particular here, but for what I'm working on... You'll thank me. (Shit, I wish I could say more without dropping potential spoilers for you guys...)
> 
> Anyways, I hope you enjoy! And here's a little something that Mother_Mortician made, this time in a virtual medium. They've done a wonderful job, so please check it out!
> 
> The House Kitchen!
> 
> And also a shoutout to LoveCakeBacon for teaching my dumbass to use links. Much appreciated! <3

Ch 15 - Words and Weapons

“th’ fuck is that?”

You felt your face turn pink as Red stared at you from the doorway of his room, his crimson eye lights narrowed at the orange t-shirt you twisted between your fingers, then on the bag of chocolate chips you held.

“I, um, brought snacks?” You offered the bag to Red and he glared at it suspiciously.

“...’n whaddya want fer this?”

“To say I’m sorry for being late?” you said nervously, remembering the last time you offered him to make him chocolate cake and he thought you were trying to bribe him. Not that you were complaining about that; he had agreed to teach you to speak Font.

Red rolled his lights at you, snatched the bag from your hands, and grumbled, “not like my time’s anythin’ special anymore.”

He motioned you to come inside and you followed, thankful that his temper from earlier seemed to have burned out. You looked around the room, feeling like something was missing since you had last been there. It was nearly empty the first time you visited, the night you helped Red up to bed in his drunken stupor, but the room had somehow gotten emptier. As Red plopped onto the black sheets on his mattress, tearing into the bag of chocolate, you realized that his bed frame was gone. The only things left to show that he lived here was a scattered pile of cds in the corner next to the outlet and a stray black hoodie near his bed.

You thought about asking Red what happened, but as soon as you opened your mouth you remembered. After he said those things about your scars, Sans told you he heard Red destroying his room. Since there was so little in his room to actually destroy, he must have taken his temper out on the only thing that was left - the bed frame.

“so, Font ain’t that hard,” Red said and tossed a handful of chocolate chips past his sharp teeth, unaware of your thoughts as you shut your mouth. “yeh jus’ gotta speak with th’ intent from yer soul. try it.”

“....how?” you asked blankly, taking a few chips from the bag as Red offered it to you. “I don’t know any words.”

“it ain’t about the words, Dollface.” Red rolled his crimson lights and smirked while you sat next to him. “didn’ I just say that?”

“No, you said it was about speaking with intent.”

“same thing.” Red shrugged and leaned against the wall, dumping a heap of chocolate into the void behind his jaws.

“Why don’t you show me how it’s done?” You raised an eyebrow and turned, cross legged, to face him. “You know, so I have some kind of idea what it sounds like.”

Red’s crimson tongue darted out to lick a streak of chocolate from his sharp teeth. Then those teeth parted, and the noise he made caught you off guard. It was like two rocks scraping and tumbling together, paired with his growling tones. You stared at him, wide eyed, until he narrowed his lights at you.

“what, I got somethin’ on my face?” He asked, reaching up to pick at his teeth with a bony finger.

“No, your face is fine.” You continued to stare, fascinated, and said, “Do it again.”

“huh?”

“That weird noise! You were saying something in Font, right?” you leaned ever so slightly forward, smiling with excitement. “Do it again! Say something else!”

Red smirked and made that rough, tumbling noise again, though much more drawn out this time. He watched you with his eye lights shining, waiting, and when you didn’t do anything except wait for him to say more he sighed and crumpled up the empty bag. He tossed it at you and said, “yeh don’t understand, do yeh?”

“Well, no, how can I?” You took the empty bag and moved it to the floor. “You haven’t taught me how to speak it yet.”

“I didn’ think I’d have teh teach yeh how teh listen, too.” Red scratched at the side of his skull, his bony brow furrowed in thought. “that’s gonna be hard.”

“I know how to listen,” you mumbled, slightly hurt.

“course yeh do!” Red said quickly, matching your cross legged position and pulling at the white fur of his hood until little tufts of it fell out onto the black sheets. “yeh just don’ understand what yer hearin’ is all. let’s, um…” 

Red frowned and stared at his sheets. You watched him patiently, wondering if this was the first time Red had tried to teach. He definitely wasn’t a natural at it, like many of his brothers. As Red started to pull at the fur on his black hoodie again, his frown slowly turning into a frustrated scowl, you decided to give him a gentle suggestion.

“How about you start with teaching me how to say hello?” you offered and straightened up, showing him that you were ready to pay attention. “You say it in Font to me and I’ll try to say it back. Then, once I can do that, we can start with basic conversation and then you can help me with listening comprehension.”

“yeah, alright.” Red’s hand fell from his hood and his scowl eased. “repeat after me, Dollface.”

He made a short, scraping growl and his eye lights darted up towards your face, watching you expectantly. You hesitated, wondering how to make that noise yourself, and gave it a shot. What came out of you was something more like gurgle. Red stared at you, his crimson lights flickering, then he burst out laughing. 

“I’m trying!” You snapped, your face flushed with embarrassment as Red held his sides and fell to his mattress, beating it with a fist as his rough, tumbling cackle filled the room.

“th’ fuck was that?” Red gasped, wiping a drop of plasma from the corner of his socket as he sat back up. “yeh sound like a wasted woshua!”

You crossed your arms and scowled at him, your face still burning. Red noticed and gave you a pointy smile.

“come on, try again.” He beckoned you with his bony fingers and repeated the scraping growl. At your narrowed eyes, he added, still chuckling, “I ain’t gonna laugh at ‘cha, Dollface. jus’ try it.”

Red repeated the greeting and, reluctantly, you tried to copy him. He gave a snort of amusement at your noise, but made an obvious effort to not laugh as he slapped his hand over his smirk.

So you went, back and forth with that one word. Red was slowly losing his initial amusement with each of your failures, and you were matching his frustration as you tried your hardest to make that scraping growl.

“no, no no.” Red scowled and rubbed at his temples, his sockets closed against what had to be your hundredth fail. “that ain’t it at all. now yer words ‘r comin’ out all strangled.”

“Oh, come on, that was a good one!” You rubbed at your dry throat, wishing you had thought to bring up water. “That was almost the exact noise you made! I just don’t know how to growl like that, if you just gave me a tip-”

“why th’ hell ‘er yeh tryin’ teh sound like me?” Red opened his sockets and raised a bony brow at you. “yer tryin’ teh speak with yer soul, not mine!”

“You said it was speaking with intent!” You felt your frustration leak into your tone, making it far more snippy than you meant it to be.

“it’s th’ same thing!”

“Says the guy that claims I don’t understand the subtleties of language!”

Red snarled, his temper rising to meet yours. “yeh make noise all th’ time with yer soul, how th’ fuck is this so hard for yeh?”

“I don’t know how I do that!” You noticed his tightly clenched fists and ran your fingers through your hair, trying to calm yourself before your rising anger could feed into Red’s any more. “It’s not like I enjoy broadcasting my emotions for you to hear, I can’t control it.”

“well, yeh better fuckin’ figure it out! cuz this,” Red jabbed his finger into your chest, “is what yeh use teh speak Font! yer sound ain’t nothin’ like mine, so stop tryin’ to mimic me like a damn parrot!”

You opened your mouth to snap back at him, but the retort fell out of your mouth unsaid as your eyes widened with clarity. Red was right, you were parroting him, but that was the wrong noise to make. Your soul didn’t sound like a parrot, you sounded like a robin.

“what?” Red leaned away from you, clearly unsettled by the sudden grin on your face amidst your argument and the renewed determination singing in your soul.

You leaned forward, your smile growing by a few teeth, and chirped at him.

Red’s crimson eye lights widened in surprise before his sharp teeth turned up into a rare smile. “yeah, yeah! that’s it! again!”

Excited, you nodded and mimicked a robin’s call, watching with a warm feeling in your chest as Red’s anger left him and a crimson flush rose up on his nasal ridge.

“What? Was I saying it right?” You asked, feeling incredibly elated that you had finally made progress.

“yeh weren’ sayin’ ‘hello’ if that’s what yeh mean.” Red scratched at his skull to hide his color and turned from you towards the darkening sky outside his window.

“What did I say?”

“tha’ yeh were happy. real happy.” Red grinned at you, his golden fang flashing at his eye lights softened. “were yeh just fuckin’ with me earlier, tryin’ teh sound like me?”

“No!” You felt yourself turn pink at the accusation. “I honestly had no idea that I was supposed to make my soul’s noise.”

“yeah, prolly should’ve led with that.” Red nodded. “so how’d yeh figure it out?”

“You mentioned birds.” You looked down at the orange t-shirt you wore and fiddled with the hem. “Mutt told me a long time ago that my soul sounds like a robin; it’s why he gave me his nickname. And before that, way before that, I taught myself how to do bird calls, so I knew how to make that sound.”

“why’d yeh do that? humans don’t speak Font.” 

“It wasn’t because of Font.” You looked up at Red, wondering how much you could say. He frowned and tilted his skull questioningly at your hesitation. “Back when I… was in the hospital, I didn’t have much to do besides homework. Birds would come to the window sometimes. I wanted them to, so I could watch them, so I listened to them and tried to sound like them. I had to teach myself how to whistle through my teeth since…” you drifted off, not wanting to let on how badly you had been hurt. That your burnt lips couldn’t even form words at first without cracking and bleeding, let alone whistle. “Well, the point is, I learned how to sound like a bird.”

“well, this ain’t just about makin’ the right noise.” Red poked your chest again; much more gently than before. “yeh got teh get what’s here-” he brought his finger up from your chest and touched your chin, just below your lips, “-out here. it ain’t about thinkin’ too much. that’s what’s messin’ yeh up.”

“So I’m just supposed to speak without thinking?”

“not exactly. stop bein’ such a smartass.” Red furrowed his brow and brought his hand to cup his chin as he thought. “humans... speak from their heads, through their souls, an’ out their mouth. that’s how I can tell when yer lyin, Dollface. th’ intent doesn’t match up. so when yer speakin’ Font, it’s gotta come from yer soul first, teh get the intent, then though yer head teh get th’ words, an’ then outta yer mouth. yeh don’t think what you want teh say first, yeh feel it.”

“Does that mean monsters can’t lie when they speak Font?”

“sure they can.” Red shrugged, his eye lights sputtering as he looked at the wall behind you. “same way yeh humans do.”

“But if they’re speaking with their soul, and you hear the intent in souls, how can you lie?”

“yeh askin’ me teh teach yeh how teh lie?” Red growled, his shoulders tensing as his sockets went dark.

“No!” you said quickly, recognizing those danger signs. “I just don’t understand how that works! It’s just a question, Red.”

Red watched you for a long time (or you thought he did, since you couldn’t see his lights) before his shoulders relaxed and his lights slowly came back to his sockets. He grumbled, “don’ worry about it. yer not here fer that.”

“So… going back to the lesson,” you said gently, hoping that you could steer yourselves away from turbulent waters, “if I want to say hello, I just have to want to say it? Like I have to think the words, and feel my intent at the same time I make my chirps?”

“somethin’ like that.” Red leaned back against the wall again and brought his knee up to rest his arm on. “let’s jus’ get yeh to say ‘hello’ first, then we can worry about th’ finer points.”

“Do I have to keep making the same bird call?” you asked, relieved that Red was letting the lesson continue. “I can make a bunch more, and I’m sure that if I practice, I can learn how to do others.”

“I already told yeh, it ain’t so much about the noise yeh make.” Red sighed. “yeh can chirp all day, with one note or many, but if yeh don’ have th’ intent, it’s just gibberish.”

“But Mutt told me my soul sounds different depending on what I’m feeling.” You pointed out.

“do yeh want me teh teach yeh, or Mutt?” Red narrowed his eye lights at you and you quickly shook your head. “if yer usin’ yer intent right, it’ll come through with yer words. now, try again.”

You nodded and your gaze fell to the mattress as you tried to think of your intent, to focus on that word and to feel it in your soul-

“stop thinkin’.” Red snapped, shaking his skull at you. “jus’ do it.”

Your eyes shot up and you glared at him. A small chirp left your lips and Red stared at you, his lights flickering, before roaring with laughter once again.

“What? What did I say?” you asked, surprised by his reaction.

“‘dumbass.’” Red smirked, his crimson lights going soft again. “yer hopeless, Dollface. yeh don’ know what yer sayin’, yeh don’ understand what’s bein’ said…”

“So give me some more lessons until I get it.” You grabbed the empty chocolate bag and playfully threw it at Red. “Did you really think I would understand this on the first try? I think just getting me to say something clearly is huge progress, now that I know how I’m supposed to speak! I’m not about to give up after that.”

Red picked up the bag, studying it as it crinkled between his bony fingers. “why do yeh want teh learn Font anyway? my bros an’ I understand yeh just fine in yer language.”

“Well, the main reason is because I want to understand the difference between the ‘love’ that Edge means and the ‘love’ that I mean. If knowing Font will help me, even just a little bit, by picking up on those things he’s trying to tell me, then I want to learn.” You sighed, thinking about your encounter this morning in the kitchen. Red stilled, his gaze focused on you. “I think Edge is finally giving me a chance. I don’t want to blow it. The other reason is that I want to be able to speak it when I meet another monster. I don’t want to just assume that everyone can speak my language; that’s just rude.”

“I already told yeh I’d explain th’ difference.” Red growled softly, his lights narrowed as he examined you. “LOVE is another way ‘a sayin’ ‘level of violence.’ yeh’d know that if yeh could hear th’ intent.”

“Then what does ‘EXP’ mean? Edge mentioned that, too.”

“‘execution points.’” Red saw the confused look on your face and continued, “they’re different. LOVE is your capability of doin’ violent things, where’s EXP is how many yeh actually killed. take fer instance Edge and Axe. Edge’s LOVE is way higher than Axe, but Axe has higher EXP.”

“Is that why Edge is considered stronger than Axe?” You asked, remembering what Butch told you, about how the brothers ranked themselves against each other based on strength.

“nah, that has nothin’ teh do with it.” Red waved a hand at your question, like he was trying to bat it out of the air. “that’s based off ‘a their magic. Sans has hardly any LOVE or EXP at all, but he can do some crazy shit. yeh ask me, Edge’s way ‘a judgin’ us is off.”

“Why’s that?”

“it’s like yeh said, Dollface. there are other ways of bein’ strong.” Red growled quietly, avoiding your gaze, “it all depends on what yer lookin’ at. take Pap as an example. he’s too gentle, ‘n Edge calls him weak fer that, but I’ve seen him lift ‘n drag th’ logs ‘a hundred year old trees fer his ‘trainin’... or maybe it’s fer fun. I dunno what he does with ‘em once he takes them elsewhere.

‘n then there’s you.” Red’s rough voice went even quieter, barely a whisper, as he stared a hole in his black sheets and a crimson flush dusted his cheekbones. “yeh’ve got nothin’. no, physical strength, no magic, no LOVE or EXP or anythin’. but yeh stand up fer yerself ‘n us. yeh make yerself vulnerable on purpose. yer even given me ‘n Edge a second chance, even though neither of us deserves jack shit at this point…”

You bit your lip to keep yourself from saying anything that might ruin the moment, but you couldn’t hide the affection bubbling up in your soul. That was the nicest thing Red had ever said to you, and the fact that he was saying,  _ explaining _ , all of this at all meant a lot, since he normally got angry at your questions. He couldn’t even admit that he liked chocolate…

“th’ fuck is that for?” Red snapped, his flush deepening as his gaze flickered towards your chest, then up to your face. 

You wanted to thank him. For the lesson, for his explanation and for acknowledging how hard you were trying, but you had no words. Though you did, you realized, have that intent in your soul. Who cares if you couldn’t think of what to say? Red already told you that wasn’t important. You made a series of soft chirps through your teeth and Red’s skull turned crimson.

“shut th’ fuck up already!” he growled and roughly pushed you back onto the floor. The empty chocolate bag crinkled as your back crushed it. “yeh don’ mean tha’ bullshit!”

“Yes, I do.” you said, pushing yourself back up. “I don’t know what I said, but I know I meant it. I felt my intent.”

Red turned on the mattress, his back to you. “lesson’s over.”

“Are you… going to give me more?” You asked and slowly got to your feet, recognizing when Red had had enough and wanted you to leave.

“yeh gotta give somethin’ teh get somethin’.” Red growled to the wall.

“Like what? Another cake? More cds?”

“nah.” Red waved his hand over his shoulder, brushing the offers away.

“What do you want, then?” You fiddled with your hands, wondering if you should bring the thought in your head up, and decided to risk it. “You said you wanted to make it up to me, for those words you said, so what if-”

“I already decided how I’m makin’ that up teh ya.” Red turned his skull, the color mostly gone, and gave you a smirk. “I’m gonna take yeh teh th’ Underground.”

You froze in shock, your eyes wide, as Red got to his feet and crossed his mattress to you. He was taller than you, standing on his bed. “but first, yeh gotta understand th’ bullshit tha’ comes outta yer mouth. consider it my way a sayin’ yer fluent. an’ if yeh want more lessons…” Red’s smirk turned mischievous and his crimson lights sparked, “yeh gotta have a few drinks with me. let me see yeh all loosened up.”

“Red, I don’t drink. Especially mustard.” You wrinkled your nose at the thought, remembering the time you sampled Sans’ ketchup. “And don’t think I don’t know how strong that stuff is for you, I don’t want you to get drunk. You were a mess last time.”

“I ain’t askin’ teh get smashed.” Red waved your concern away. “I just want yeh teh bring me a few bottles. Pap won’t pick up any fer me right now, not after I raided the kitchen.”

“That’s probably a good thing,” you sighed. Red ignored your comment.

“so here’s th’ deal, Dollface,” Red grinned, “yeh bring me what I want, have some drinks with me, ‘n were square for th’ rest of yer Font lessons. I’ll even give yeh a few tips on gettin’ along with Edge.”

“Really?” You perked up, hope filling you. If Red was willing to do all that, maybe having a couple drinks with him was worth it. It’s not like he was asking, as he put it, to get smashed. You nodded slowly and Red’s grin widened. “Okay, but just one drink. And I’m not buying more than one bottle of mustard...”

“fuck yeah!” Red pumped his fist, excited at the thought of the tangy, yellow condiment.

“On one condition.” You added, seeing his enthusiasm and deciding it would be good to have a fail-safe, just in case. Red’s energy quickly fell and he glared at you in confusion, so you explained. “If you want me to drink with you, I want to have someone there to watch us and cut us off. You’ll have a limit already, with just one bottle, but I won’t. I have a whole bottle of rum and it’s nearly untouched. You don’t know how I get when I drink too much, but I do, and I don’t want that. I know I won’t be able to stop myself after a few shots.”

“so who do yeh want there?” Red scowled, obviously not liking your added condition.

“Sans.”

“HELL NO.” Red snapped, his sockets going dark. “I ain’t doin’ nuthin’ with that fuckin’ vanilla piece a shit, prankin’ mother fucker-”

“Come on, Red, please?” You reached out and put a gentle hand on Red’s back as he swiftly turned and kicked at his mattress. “As far as I know, Sans is the only other guy in this house that drinks. I have a deck of cards in my room I can bring down for us to play a few games with, but the only one I know needs three or four people. Unless you can think of someone else you’d rather have?” 

Even with his back turned to you, you could feel the tension in Red’s shoulder blades. His lengthy silence told you that, while he didn’t want Sans there, he also didn’t want anyone else. You had no doubt in your mind why Red could be angry; you remembered his fury at the prank with the plastic, and knew that Sans had definitely gotten him plenty of times before that. You thought that maybe he would be a little more receptive to the idea if you sweetened the deal, so you offered, “If you let Sans be there, I’ll help you prank him after.”

Red turned back to you, his lights coming back to his sockets. “huh?”

“I know he gets you, he pranks me too.” You said. “He and I are actually having a prank war. If I have your help, I know I can get him good. You give me this, I’ll give you a bit of revenge.”

His sharp teeth curved up into an evil smile. “I like th’ way yeh think, Dollface. what did yeh have in mind?”

“It’s for  _ after _ we drink,” you stressed that word, “so I know that you’ll try to behave yourself.”

“ugh, fine.” Red grumbled and stuffed his hands back into his black hoodie. “smartass.”

You watched Red stand there awkwardly, avoiding your gaze in silence. He wasn’t telling you to leave, but you could tell that he had no idea what to say anymore. A small realization came over you as you thought back over your time together.

“Do you want to come help Pap and me with dinner?” you asked him gently, understanding that for all his abrasive words, and his temper, he just wanted to spend time with you. It was why he held onto you when you tried to leave when he was drunk; why he was asking for time with you for more lessons, and probably part of the reason he got so angry at the thought of Sans joining you both for drinks. “We could use the extra pair of hands while Butch is resting.”

“I ain’t th’ domestic type.” Red growled. You rolled your eyes at him and grabbed his arm, pulling him towards the door.

“Come on, dumbass, I’m trying to spend more time with you.” You said curtly as he fought to stay in his empty room. “But if you want to stay here, all by yourself-”

“Pap says one fuckin’ word about it, I’m leavin’.” Red snapped, finally letting you pull him into the hall. You hooked your arm around his and you saw a bit of color rise onto his cheekbones as his eye lights focused on your touch.

“I’ll talk to him.” You said, thinking about that moment with Pap you had earlier. You had already decided to apologize, and hopefully ease his nerves, so it wasn’t going to seem strange to Red if you pulled Pap aside for a few minutes. “You don’t really cook, right? You’ll have to keep in mind that we’ll need to give you instructions, so don’t get upset if we tell you what to do.”

“nobody tells me what teh do.” Red grumbled as you descended the stairs together.

“Then you can sit and watch, if you’re going to be so stubborn.”

“I didn’ say I didn’ want teh do it!” Red snapped as you traversed the entrance hall. “jus’ don’ think I’m gonna do shit I don’ wanna do!”

“Do you want to help or not?” You stopped Red in the middle of the hall. “Just so we’re perfectly clear. Otherwise, I can give you my phone and you can go listen to new music until we come and get you for dinner.”

Red crossed his arms over his chest and grumbled irritably under his breath. You rolled your eyes at him and gave an exasperated sigh. For someone who could understand any language, and was in fact teaching you a new one, it was terribly ironic that Red was so bad at communicating.

“I want to hear you say it.” You said flatly. “Tell me exactly what you want.”

“yeah, fine, I’ll help yeh.” Red glared at the wooden floor, color rising to his cheekbones again. “smartass.”

You grabbed Red by the hand and led him towards the kitchen. He squeezed your fingers tightly as you crossed the threshold and you announced yourselves. “Hey Pap! What’re we making tonight?”

Pap jumped and dropped the knife in his hands, stiffening as he jumped out of the blade’s path and it clattered to the floor. His skull flushed orange with embarrassment. “OH, UM, HELLO HONEY. I WASN’T EXPECTING YOU TO… COME DOWN SO SOON.”

“We usually make dinner together, don’t we?” You tugged at Red and brought him forward. “And Red said he’ll help!”

Pap’s white lights flickered with confusion as he stared down at his brother. Red scowled at him and his grip tightened on your hand. “what’re yeh starin’ at, twig?” 

“UH....” Pap looked to you, at your hand clasped in Red’s, and asked, “HONEY CAN WE… TALK?”

You nodded. “Is there anything for Red to do?”

Pap picked the knife up off the floor and looked nervously between it and Red, then over his shoulder at the counter. “WELL, THE WATER SAUSAGES NEED TO BE MINCED BEFORE I POUND THEM OUT, BUT I CAN TAKE CARE OF THAT AFTER-”

“what, yeh think I can’t handle it? fuck off, yeh lanky bastard.” Red snarled, stepping forward and snatching the knife from Papyrus. As he attacked the ingredients on the cutting board, he added mockingly, “ooo, lookit me, I’m Pap an’ cuttin’ shit up is sooo hard!”

“Red! Be nice!” you snapped, grabbing Pap by his bony forearm as he opened his mouth to retaliate. Pap started at your touch, but you motioned towards the hallway and his jaw snapped shut. He nodded and followed you out of the kitchen.

“I DON’T TRUST HIM WITH THAT.” Pap hissed to you, making a determined effort to keep his loud voice quiet at you both heard a loud snap of the cutting board being cleaved in two. “SINCE WHEN IS HE INTERESTED IN COOKING?”

“He’s trying, Pap,” you said gently, also glancing towards the kitchen to where Red was just out of sight, “just give him a chance and be gentle. Red can be really considerate, when he wants to be.”

Pap made a snort of disbelief and his lights drifted down to where your hand rested on his arm. Orange blossomed over his cheekbones and he quickly pulled away from you. You looked up at him, feeling the awkwardness hanging in the air between you like a physical pressure.

“I’m sorry!” you both blurted out at the exact same time.

“...why are you sorry?” You asked, confused.

“WHY ARE YOU?” Pap asked, just as confused as you.

“From, you know, earlier.” You turned pink with embarrassment and fiddled with the hem of your t-shirt. “I should have known better than to walk around covered in sweat during my heat. I know it’s not easy for you guys to deal with and I feel awful for putting you in that situation. I feel like I forced you...”

“ARE YOU SERIOUS?” Pap’s jaw fell open in disbelief. “ _ I _ FORCED MYSELF ON  _ YOU! _ I JUST… I THOUGHT…” You looked up and saw him run his mittened hand over his orange-tinted skull, flustered. “I’VE BEEN TRYING TO FIGURE OUT HOW TO DO THAT FOR AWHILE NOW, BUT IT DIDN’T GO HOW I PLANNED AT ALL. YOU JUST CAME IN AND… AND YOU WERE JUST SO… YOU AND… I JUST FELT THIS… WELL, I THOUGHT… I’D JUST GO FOR IT!”

“How did you want it to go?” you asked curiously, your cheeks warm. Pap just practically admitted that he liked you and, looking back, you should have been able to figure it out. He got flustered easily around you. He tried to heal you and got upset when he thought you were hurt, and went out of his way to stop his magic from affecting you. He got jealous when Axe was overly affectionate in front of him. He was thoughtful about you getting cold and he lent you his scarf. You had never seen him without it; it had to be important to him.

“WELL,” Pap scratched his skull and looked at the ceiling, trying to hide his deepening color, and mumbled, “I THOUGHT I WOULD SAY SOMETHING REALLY CLEVER OR COOL AND YOU WOULD BE IMPRESSED AND… IT WOULD JUST HAPPEN. BUT I ENDED UP STARTING A FIRE AND SCARING YOU INSTEAD...”

“Yeah, that did happen.” you chuckled and Pap fidgeted nervously. “But, if I’m being honest, Pap…” you felt yourself turn red as you glanced up at him. “Doing what you did, taking charge like that… it was really brave.”

Pap’s lights flickered. “YOU REALLY THINK SO?”

You nodded. “I never could have done that. I’d rather have a bucket of beetles poured on my head.”

“BEETLES?” Pap said nervously as you leaned in, standing on your tiptoes with a hand on his white chest plate for balance.

“Yeah. I really… hate beetles.” You mumbled and pressed your lips to his teeth. Pap stiffened with surprise, then his arms were around you and he was lifting you in the air to deepen your kiss. You could taste brown sugar on his breath and your heart started to race...

A series of loud bangs from the kitchen made you both jump. Pap very nearly dropped you.

“Red!” you both said at the same time. Pap set you on the floor and the two of you raced back into the kitchen to where Red was standing with a crimson bone in his hand, smashing at the counter.

“WHAT ARE YOU DOING?!” Pap shouted and ran over, grabbing the bone in Red’s hand before he could smash it against the marble again. The cupboards, wall, and the front of Red’s hoodie were covered in a soft, blue mush.

“what’s it look like?” Red growled and tugged at the crimson bone, trying to pull it from Pap’s grip. Pap frowned and lifted the bone higher, taking Red with it. Red kicked at the air, snarling, “I finished cuttin’ it up, an’ yeh said yeh wanted that shit pounded out!”

“POUNDED OUT, NOT PULVERIZED!” Pap snapped as Red’s grip slipped on the bone and he fell to the floor. Pap quickly threw the bone out into the entrance hall; you could hear it skitter across the floor as it fell.

“Come on, Pap,” you laughed, grabbing the towel from the stove and wiping blue mush from Red’s face. He flushed crimson, snarled, and snatched the towel from your hands to wipe it away himself. “You gotta love his enthusiasm.”

“...i’ll show yeh pulverized.” Red growled under his breath. You elbowed him and shot him a stern look. He rolled his crimson lights at you and beat his hoodie with the towel, grumbling incoherently.

“So, what are we making, Pap?” You asked, leaving Red to clean himself up and joined Pap at the counter.

“BURGERS.” Pap said, trying to salvage as much of the destroyed water sausage as he could. “I WANTED TO MAKE ALFREDO, BUT ALL OF OUR GARLIC HAS DISAPPEARED. I SUSPECT THAT AXE RAIDED THE FRIDGE AGAIN, BUT IT’S NOT LIKE HIM TO LEAVE THE REST OF THE FOOD UNTOUCHED.”

“That’s actually… my fault.” You said sheepishly and took dishes from Pap to clean in the sink. “I’m trying to grow the garlic for a project of mine.”

“OH.” Pap paused, a bowl of pulverized blue mush in his hand. “WELL, THAT’S ALRIGHT THEN.”

“Red, do you want to grab the spiral noodles and get some going for a pasta salad?” You looked over your shoulder from the sink, already planning out sides. Red didn’t seem too happy about the request, but he made his way towards the pantry and started rifling through the shelves. Returning to your scrubbing, you asked, “Why use water sausage? Aren’t burgers normally made with beef?”

“IS THAT A HUMAN THING?” Pap asked, grabbing an armload of potatoes from the fridge for fries. “WE DON’T HAVE BEEF IN THE UNDERGROUND.”

“Sure you do!” You said, thinking back on the meals you had shared with the brothers. “We’ve had plenty of things with meat! Hot dogs, lasagna...”

“there ain’t no meat in th’ underground.” Red said roughly, moving you to the side so that he could fill a pot with water. “everythin’ down there is fueled by th’ magic in their soul, an’ if that soul dies, yer body turns teh dust.”

“SO WE EAT PLANTS, WHICH DON’T HAVE SOULS.” Pap added, watching Red carefully as he dropped the pot onto the stove and slooshed water everywhere. “THOUGH… SNAILS ARE AN EXCEPTION. BUT THOSE ARE A DELICACY RESERVED FOR THE QUEENS. NO ONE ELSE IS ALLOWED TO HAVE THEM.”

You blinked in astonishment, your hands covered in soap. You had been eating plants this whole time? Pap really was an amazing cook, you never knew the difference. “I didn’t know you guys were vegetarians. Should I… not bring meat into the house?”

“I’d try it.” Red looked over his shoulder at you, a smirk on his face. “if th’ queens think they’re so high an’ mighty, hoggin’ that shit teh themselves, it’s gotta be good.”

“It wouldn’t have any magic in it, though.” You pointed out to Red as you dried your hands on your t-shirt. “It wouldn’t actually feed you.”

“don’ care.” Red shrugged, stirring the noodles with a bit more force than necessary. “just imaginin’ th’ pissed off look on Queen Cinn’s bitchy face if she knew feeds my soul.”

“DON’T SPEAK LIKE THAT!” Pap glared at Red, knife in hand as he paused while slicing a tomato. “YOU KNOW WE’RE NOT ALLOWED TO INSULT THE QUEENS!”

“er what, yer gonna report me teh Milord?” Red rolled his lights. The wooden spoon in his hand creaked as his grip on it tightened and he growled darkly, his voice rising, “like I give two fucks. I say what I want, an’ if what I want teh say is tha’ Cinn is an uptight piece of shit, then I’ll fuckin’ say it!”

The spoon in Red’s hand splintered, sending wood and crimson plasma across the stove and onto the floor. Your hands flew up to cover your nose. Pap took a step back and grabbed you, moving you behind him protectively. You watched Red seethe at the stove, unmoving, before slowly stepping around Pap.

“Are you okay?” you asked softly, placing a gentle hand on Red’s back. He whirled around to face you, his sockets dark, and you jumped back. The sight, and maybe the sound, of your growing fear brought the lights back.

“‘m fine.” Red grumbled, avoiding your gaze. 

You slowly reached out your hand again and let it rest comfortingly on Red’s shoulder. He didn’t shrug it off. Your instinct was to hug him, but your head knew that was probably a bad idea right now. He was already angry, and the smell of his magic would only make you afraid. Instead, you asked, “Do you want to pick dessert?”

Red’s lights found your eyes and he watched you for a moment, for another, then he shrugged you off and sauntered towards the fridge. Pap stepped closer to you and his white lights followed his brother with an unwavering gaze. You watched Red yank open the door, practically pull out one of the crisper drawers onto the floor, then slam everything back into place.

“this.” Red growled and thrust a gnarled root into your hands. He shoved his own hands back into his pockets and turned to leave.

“Don’t you want to help?” you asked as he stormed from the kitchen.

“fuck no!”

“LET HIM GO,” Pap rested his hand on your head as you examined the root. “HE NEEDS TO COOL OFF A BIT BEFORE WE SIT DOWN TO EAT. YOU AND I WILL MANAGE THE REST JUST FINE, HONEY.”

“Yeah…” you nodded, looking over the ginger root Red had given you. Why would he want this? He liked chocolate. Maybe he wouldn’t want that, since Pap was here and Red hated the thought of anyone knowing his secret, but why ginger? None of his brothers’ favorite flavors matched; you already knew all of them. All except...

You gripped the root tightly in your hand, realization hitting you. Edge liked ginger.

~~~

Normally, either Axe or Butch went to fetch their brothers for dinner. Since both of them were upstairs, resting, Pap delegated that task to you. So after opening the basement door and calling Mutt to the table, you headed up to the second story.

At the top of the oak steps, you took an immediate left and made for the end of the hall, thinking that you would check on Butch and Sans first. To your dismay, Sans wouldn’t even open the door at your knocks.

“sorry, Thyme,” his low voice said from the other side. You had to press your ear against the door to hear him over the sounds of the shower from the bathroom behind you. “just leave a plate out in the hall, I’ll get it later.”

“Butch isn’t up yet?” You asked, leaning against the door frame, worried. He had been sleeping all day; wasn’t he getting hungry? You watched blue and grey magic leak from the gap under the door, the colored plasma swirling around your toes. The strong scent of damp wood warred with the smell of sweet rot

“not yet, but he’s fine.” Sans’ voice was louder - he must have moved closer to the door. “I’ve got this under control. if you’re looking for Axe, he should be sleeping in the next room. make sure he eats something, won’t you?”

“Sure thing.” You hesitated, wanting more than anything to go in and check on Butch, and wondered how long it would take for that new, golden magic to take over. Reluctantly, you moved on to the next door.

Axe answered, yawning and rubbing at a dark shadow under his empty socket. His fuzzy, red light flickered as it found you and you invited him to dinner.

“...is Butch…?” He asked sleepily. You shook your head and he frowned, clearly just as worried as you.

“Sans says he’s doing okay.” You said and gave Axe a comforting hug. “Don’t worry, Axe. If he wakes up hungry in the middle of the night, you can come get me and I’ll make him as much food as he wants.”

Axe nuzzled you affectionately and thanked you. “...I’m glad… I chose you… as my alpha.”

“Why’s that?” you asked, giggling as Axe nipped at your ear playfully.

“...you care for him. ...even though… he’s not yours.” Axe gave you one last squeeze and, with a promise to see you downstairs, disappeared in the blink of an eye.

You smiled, your cheeks warm as you smelled iron and your heart filled with affection. Of course you would take care of Butch, why would Axe think otherwise?

Milord did not answer your first series of knocks, or the second. You stared at the doorknob, wondering how upset he would be if you just cracked open the door. He had seemed upset after your chess game this morning and so eager to leave when he saw you at lunch. Did you do something to upset him?

You looked back towards Butch’s room, to the bathroom across from it, and listened to the noise of water. Someone was taking a shower and, thinking of Milord, you flushed pink and decided to wait to knock at that door. Maybe he was a bit more upset about you seeing him than he let on?

You continued down the hall, past Pap and Sans’ empty rooms, carrying a strange mixture of emotions with you. The most prominent among them being worry, affection, confusion, and frustration. Perhaps Edge could hear these and decided he didn’t want to speak to you either, because he also did not answer his door.

“Hey, Red.” you sighed, thankful that the last room opened up for you. Red looked at you with narrowed lights, his bony brow raised, as music blared from the cockeyed headphones on his skull. “Food’s ready.”

“‘s wrong?” He asked in his usual rough voice, but you could hear a small undertone of concern as he turned off the cd player and stuffed it in the pockets of his hoodie.

“It’s… complicated.” you shrugged. “I guess I’m just sad that not everyone is going to be at the table tonight. Sans is taking care of Butch, Milord is busy, and… Edge won’t answer his door. I mean, I get why he won’t, he doesn’t like me much, but I had hoped that-”

“he ain’t in his room.” Red waved your concern away and gently brushed past you as he sauntered out into the hall. “Edge is in th’ shower.”

“Shower?” You turned and followed Red as he traversed the length of the hall. If that was Edge in there, then why didn’t Milord answer when you knocked at his door?

“OI!” Red barked and hammered on the bathroom door, “dinner bell, boss!”

“HOW MANY TIMES-” Edge yanked open the door, nearly pulling it off the hinges, and steam poured off his uncovered ribs as he stepped into the hall to swipe at Red. He wore only his black jeans and a single, studded belt. “HAVE I TOLD YOU NOT TO CALL ME THAT!?”

“don’ know, don’ care.” Red smirked, picking at his golden fang with an air of mockery. Edge’s snarl fell slightly in his surprise to see you standing there. You smiled nervously as Edge’s surprise quickly faded and he glowered at you.

“WHAT ARE YOU STARING AT?” He snapped, his red lights narrowing at you.

You forced your gaze away from the crack still on his face and looked at your feet, unsure of what to say. You wanted to say something nice, but wouldn’t he get angrier if you tried to force a compliment? 

Red grabbed your arm and steered you away from his brother, asking loudly, “so, what’s fer eatin’, Dollface?”

“Um, burgers?” You asked, confused. He had been there to help you cook.

“‘n after?” Red asked, his sharp teeth turned up in a smirk as he hooked your arm around his.

“Uh… I made ginger snaps.”

“th’ fuck’s a ginger snap?” Red asked, his rough voice still loud as he took you downstairs.

“It’s a kind of cookie.” You looked over your shoulder, just able to glance Edge staring after the two of you over the banister before disappearing into his room.

At the bottom of the stairs, Red stopped you and turned you around to face him. His crimson lights sparked and his voice was a low growl as he said, “don’ look away, Dollface. he stares yeh down, yeh do what yeh did before an’ stare right back. get me?”

Your eyes widened as you understood. He was trying to help you with Edge. That loud inquiry about dinner was for his brother’s benefit, not his. You felt a rush of affection rise in your chest as you smiled and Red’s nasal ridge flushed crimson.

“Thanks, Red.”

“...yeh owe me big.” Red growled and quickly took his arm from yours, stuffed his hands in his pockets, and walked the rest of the way towards the kitchen on his own.

You followed tentatively, wondering what in the world Red wanted for that bit of help. If you didn’t know better, you would think he was trying to put you in his debt. Or was that exactly what he wanted?

“THERE YOU ARE!” Pap exclaimed happily as you passed through the archway. Even though you had been gone only minutes, the kitchen smelled strongly like a pub, minus the heady scent of alcohol. He beckoned you towards the counter and handed a pair of heavily laden plates to you. “COULD YOU PASS THESE OUT? I’VE ALREADY SENT AXE UPSTAIRS WITH ONE FOR SANS. HE’D BE VERY UPSET IF HE MISSED OUT ON HIS FAVORITE.”

“he ain’t wrong.” Red grinned and flexed his bony fingers greedily as you set plates in front of him and Mutt. Red tore into his burger with fervor, getting bits of browned non-meat everywhere and ignoring the fact that Mutt was trying to suppress a laugh at the sight.

“You’re disgusting.” A cold voice said to Red from across the table. You felt a slight elation at seeing Milord seated across from Mutt, but he refused to look your way and ignored you as you set another plate in front of him. The elation you felt quickly deflated.

“AT LEAST PAPYRUS DOESN’T MAKE HIS FOOD SO GREASY IT’S INEDIBLE.” Edge’s sharp voice carried across the kitchen as he made his way in and also sat at the table. “THE ONLY GOOD THING ABOUT LIVING OUT HERE IS THAT I DON’T HAVE TO SMELL THE STENCH OF GRILLBY’S EVERY NIGHT.”

“What’s ‘Grillby’s’?” You asked, setting a plate in front of Edge and Axe, who just reappeared at the table in a puff of iron.

“th’ best place in th’ Underground.” Red burped loudly, his burger gone, and received twin looks of disgust from Edge and Milord as he started on his fries.

“It’s a bar and grill.” Mutt explained to you as you took a seat between him and Pap. “It’s the only restaurant in the Underground not owned by Mettaton, so it’s pretty popular.”

“You work with Mettaton, right?” You asked, taking a bite of your burger. Milord shot a freezing glare at Mutt from across the table and Mutt visibly shrank in his seat. You chewed, wanting to quickly come to his defense, but the flavor in your mouth nearly made you melt.

“Pap, this is fucking delicious!” You sighed though your mouthful. Pap flushed orange at your compliment. “I never would have guessed this isn’t meat! How did you get that smokey flavor in there without a grill?”

“SMOKEY FLAVOR?” Pap took a careful bite of his food and stared at it in astonishment. “I… HAVE NO IDEA.”

“Slow down, Robin, or you’ll choke.” Mutt snickered, watching you devour your food with almost as much enthusiasm as Red. 

“GREAT, THE PET EATS LIKE AN ANIMAL!” Edge said sharply, turning towards Red as if it was his fault. “IF YOU’RE GOING TO KEEP IT, TRAIN IT!”

Red ignored him and stared at you, his lights hazy as he watched you wipe your face with the back of your hand before starting on your pasta salad. Edge thumped him on the skull, hard, and snapped, “ARE YOU LISTENING, YOU IDIOT?!”

“fuck off!” Red growled, swiping at Edge.

A small bang sounded next to you and you turned quickly. On Pap’s other side, Axe had fallen asleep and his skull was using his fries as a pillow.

“Axe?” you asked, concern quickly filling you. He must be exhausted to fall asleep with food still on his plate. Pap poked him awake and you watched as Axe’s single red light flickered back to fuzzy existence, struggling to stay lit. “Come on, Axe. Finish your food and I’ll get you upstairs.”

“I’LL TAKE HIM UP.” Pap said as he brushed a fry free from the hole in Axe’s skull. “IT’LL BE EASIER FOR ME TO CARRY HIM.”

“...I don’t… need to be… carried.” Axe growled and tipped the rest of his plate into the void behind his jaws. He set the plate down, without licking it clean, and made a weird little jerk. Axe frowned, staring at the table, then he was gone and the smell of iron drifted over the table.

“...is he really okay?” You asked Pap, your brow furrowed with worry.

“HIS MAGIC IS LOW.” Pap said thoughtfully, staring at Axe’s vacant seat. “IF HE’S HAVING TROUBLE TAKING SHORTCUTS, BUTCH MUST BE MORE OF A HANDFUL THAN I THOUGHT.”

“Is that what that twitch was?” You looked up at the ceiling, wondering if you should go check on him.

“DON’T WORRY, HONEY.” Pap patted your head in a comforting way. “NOW THAT HE’S HAD SOMETHING TO EAT, HE’LL BE FINE AFTER HE SLEEPS.”

“So, what’s for dessert?” Mutt asked, handing you his empty plate. 

You took that as your cue and got up to retrieve the plate of ginger snaps from the counter. As you set the plate in the middle of the table, you couldn’t help but try for a small glance towards Edge. He noticed and frowned at you as you resumed your seat.

Red elbowed Edge, who visibly bristled at the touch. Red’s lights darted towards the plate and Edge’s pointed frown turned into a scowl. Red’s lights narrowed into a glare, his own sharp teeth turning down into a scowl. Edge’s fingers tapped against the table in irritation, and Red responded by clenching his fist and raising his bony brow up at his brother. They sat for a moment, still, glaring at each other, before-

“FINE!” Edge snapped, swiping a cookie from the plate and angrily shoving it between his sharp teeth. He turned his face away from the table and stared a hole into the basement door, a small dusting of black across his nasal ridge.

You stared between Red and Edge, thoroughly astonished by the nonverbal argument that had just taken place. Those two had the worst tempers you had ever seen, so how had they managed that without a single insult being said? Even Milord, you noticed, was watching the two of them cautiously from the corner of his eye sockets.

“These are good, Robin.” Mutt said, his raspy voice drawing your attention away as he took a handful of cookies from the plate. “They’re kind of spicy. Not like those truffle things you made, those are still my favorite, but these are the next best thing.”

“Thank you, Mutt.” You welcomed the new topic and clung to it. “You know, I think you’d like turmeric candy, too. It’s got a bit of heat, but if you like chili in your chocolate...”

“WHY WOULD YOU RUIN DESSERT WITH CHILI? IT’S SUPPOSED TO BE SWEET.” Pap took a small bite out his first cookie, nursing it. You can tell he didn’t like it and put a gentle hand on his arm to stop him from eating more.

“Do you want something else?” You asked him. “It’s okay if you don’t want it, Pap. I’ve got tons of sweets in my hidden stash that you can have instead.”

“NO, I LIKE IT HONEY, I DON’T-” Pap turned around in his chair, flustered, as you got up and opened up the pantry to find your hidden stash of chocolate.

“It’s fine, Pap, really.” You said and tossed him a chocolate bar. You noticed Milord staring at the ginger snap in his hand, his purple lights flickering strangely. “Milord? Do you want one too? I have a mocha flavored bar here…”

“No.” Milord said coldly, his chair squeaking against the tile as he stood. “I’ve wasted enough time down here as it is.”

A small pang of hurt hit you as you smelled the frost drift over from Milord’s departure from the kitchen. He was definitely upset with you, he had to be. Why else would he be so cold? You thought the two of you were becoming close. All you did was ask him to spend a little time with you… was that really asking too much from him?

“HONEY?” Pap’s loud voice was gentle as you closed the pantry and went to the sink, to start on the mountain of dishes in them. “ARE YOU OKAY?”

“I’m fine, Pap.” You said, trying to force a smile into your voice. “Just ate a little too fast is all.”

“...yer a terrible liar.” Red growled and leaned back, his untied sneaker pushing against the table to tilt his chair.

“That means she doesn’t want to talk about it.” Mutt hissed, glaring at Red as you made noise with the dishes to try and cover up the sounds you couldn’t hear from your soul.

“WELL,  _ I _ DIDN’T DO ANYTHING!” Edge said indignantly, rising from the table and storming out, taking the rest of the ginger snaps with him.

“‘ey! I want summa those!” Red’s chair fell back in place with a loud thunk and he raced after his brother; you could hear them start to bicker in the hall and all the way up the stairs. That put a small smile on your face. At least Red was warming up to you more. And Edge… he must’ve really liked dessert, to take the whole plate. Especially when you considered that he had refused to touch anything you had made before.

“DO YOU… WANT TO TALK ABOUT IT WITH US?” Pap asked as he and Mutt came to the counter, leaning on either side of the sink.

“Is it Axe?” Mutt leaned back so that he could see your face as you focused on the pan before you. “You’re worried about him and Butch?”

“IS IT BECAUSE I DIDN’T LIKE THE GINGER SNAPS?” Pap anxiously tugged at his red mittens. “I’M SORRY, HONEY, I DON’T REALLY LIKE THOSE THINGS, BUT THEY WERE GOOD!”

“It’s okay, Pap, I told you I’m not upset about that.” You gave a weak chuckle, touched that Pap was so concerned about your feelings about dessert. “Everyone has different tastes. I don’t expect you to like everything I make.”

“So it is Axe and Butch.” Mutt smirked as you gave a half shrug, obviously delighted that he could guess your thoughts.

“That’s part of it, yeah.” You set the clean pan aside to drain and started on the stack of plates. “I don’t know what to do for them. I feel helpless.”

“THEY’LL BE FINE.” Pap set a comforting hand on your shoulder. “AXE JUST NEEDS REST AND BUTCH HAS SANS WATCHING OVER HIM.”

“I know.” You sighed. “I’ll just… I’ll feel better once I can see Butch again.”

Mutt and Pap exchanged looks above your head.

“LET ME FINISH THESE, HONEY.” Pap gently removed your hands from the sink and guided you away from the counter. “GO DO SOMETHING TO TAKE YOUR MIND OFF THIS STUFF WITH BUTCH. WHEN HE WAKES UP, I PROMISE I’LL COME FIND YOU AT ONCE.”

“But-”

“Come on, let me show you how to play that game you bought me.” Mutt grabbed you by the shoulders and steered you towards the basement. “You’ll get sucked in and won’t be able to think about anything else for awhile, trust me.”

“But-”

“No buts!” Mutt said and patted yours as he urged you downstairs into the dark. The smell of clove drifted on the air as he used his magic to turn on the light.

“Shouldn’t I-?” You turned around on the creaky stairs to try and go back up. Mutt rolled his eye lights at you and picked you up, threw you over his shoulder, and carried you the rest of the way down. You squirmed against his hold, but he held on tight.

“Stop being stubborn.” Mutt growled and set you down in his spinning computer chair. “I know you mean well, Robin, but there’s nothing to be done.”

“Yes there is!” you crossed your arms and glared at Mutt as he rested a hand on his hip. “I know I can’t do anything for Butch right now, but I can’t figure out what I did to make Milord so angry with me!”

“Oh, is that it?” Mutt reached into the pocket of his black hoodie and took out his pack of cigarettes. “He likes you, Robin. I thought that was obvious?”

“Then why won’t he talk to me?” you sighed, frustrated, as Mutt lit a black cigarette and breathed out a cloud of purple smoke and set his lighter on the far side of his desk, away from you.

“I can tell he’s frustrated.” Mutt said thoughtfully, blowing a smoke right at the ceiling. “He’s not used to being cooped up inside. He’s a workaholic, Robin. He’s used to getting new assignments and projects and who knows what else every day. I wouldn’t be surprised if he’s going stir crazy.”

“Are you sure that’s it?” You asked, scrutinizing Mutt with a look. “He started acting weird this morning, right after I got him to play chess with me…”

“Makes sense.” Mutt shrugged. “He probably realized that he actually has free time and doesn’t know how to handle that.”

“But that’s a  _ good _ thing!” you argued. “Being a workaholic is terrible on mental and physical health! It causes dangerous levels of stress; it’s probably why he gets migraines!”

“Give him a few days.” Mutt said gently and ran his fingers through your hair to calm you. “Once he gets a chance to go to the Underground and get something new to do, he’ll be back to normal. Trust me, I’ve known him my whole life.”

“And if he’s not?” You grumbled as Mutt lifted you up, cigarette held firmly between his pointed teeth, and set you back in his lap as he sat in his chair.

“Then I promise I’ll make it my personal goal in life to make him take a day off.” Mutt smirked at you, his red lights flickering in that strange way of a wink, and pulled up Skyrim on his computer. “So do you want to make your own profile? Or do you want to start a new one on mine?”

“I’d rather watch, to be honest.” You leaned back against Mutt’s chest, feeling a little better. Just a few days, then Mutt would be forced to accept that his brother needed a day off and you could work together to accomplish that. Milord couldn’t ignore his brother, right? Especially if they worked together for the Guard.

“You sure?”

“Yeah, you seem like you know this way better than me. I’ve never been much of a gamer, anyway. Unless this has multiplayer?”

“Nope.” Mutt shook his skull and loaded his game up with a few clicks of the keyboard. A humanoid cat appeared on screen, dressed in robes, amid a land of snow and ice. “Single player. But the possibilities with this are ridiculous. I decided to go with a mage after playing around with it, but I could choose to go with a warrior right now and it wouldn’t be too hard to switch classes.”

“Mage?” You looked up at Mutt and the excited grin on his face as he rested his chin on the top of your head. “Why would you go with that? You can do actual magic.”

“Not like this.” Mutt pulled up a menu, his hand a blur as it danced over the keyboard, and the cat avatar on screen got into a ready stance to obey Mutt’s commands. “I can cast fire, ice, or lightning for damage. I can do things like cause fury or calm to deter enemies, and the  _ summons _ , Robin! Oh man, they’re amazing! I can summon all kinds of weapons and atronachs to fight for me. I can raise zombies and conjure familiars...”

“But, you and your brothers can do summons, too, can’t you?” You furrowed your brow in confusion. “Sans won’t let me see Butch because he’s summoning in his sleep.”

“Not like this.” Mutt chuckled and ate his cigarette so he could nuzzle you without risk of burning you. “Me and my brothers’ summons are limited mostly to bones. I could never conjure a familiar.”

You cupped your chin, thinking back on any occasion you may have witnessed the brothers’ magic. “Not true, you can do other things. I’ve seen Axe summon a cleaver. Or I think it was, anyway. It wasn’t fully formed, but Butch told me about it.”

“You saw Axe’s cleaver?” Mutt’s hand slipped on the keyboard and his avatar nearly ran off a glacier. Mutt looked down at you, his red lights wide. “What the hell happened?”

The concern in his voice made you pause. “Um, something happened at school with a classmate of mine and Axe got angry…”

“Not just angry, Robin.” Mutt paused the game and held you tightly. “That was true blood lust you witnessed. You’re lucky he didn’t kill you.”

“Axe would never hurt me.” You held onto Mutt’s forearm and gave the pair of bones a squeeze through his sleeve. “I know he wouldn’t.”

“Well, he was ready to kill your classmate, then. He wouldn’t have been able to summon his weapon without killing intent; his LOVE isn’t high enough.”

You looked up into Mutt’s red lights. They were flickering with anxiety. “I don’t understand… Does that mean when you summon bones, you have killing intent, too?”

“Of course you don’t understand, I hoped to the stars you never had see us like that…” Mutt sighed and ran his fingers through your hair, more to calm himself than you, it seemed. “So our normal summons we can do at any time for whatever reason. But our weapons are a special summons that, as I’ve said, can only be brought out when we have killing intent. It’s a powerful bit of magic that costs a lot for our souls to manifest, so we use it as a last resort.”

“But you can summon bones at will?” You asked, more curious than anything. Mutt nodded and brought his hand up in front of you. Burnt orange plasma leaked from the spaces between his joins and rushed together in a whirlwind of clove, forming a bone the same color as his magic. He grabbed it out of the air and offered it to you and you took it, fascinated to feel how solid it had become.

“I’ve seen Red with one of these.” You said, thinking back to the crimson bone he held in the kitchen.

“Yeah, he’s got a lot of summoning power. Mostly because he’s one of those with high LOVE that I was talking about.” Mutt grimaced, obviously put off by the thought.

“So, are all your weapons cleavers?” You asked.

“No, they’re unique to each of us.”

“What’s yours?”

“Daggers.” Mutt’s nasal ridge flushed burnt orange. “I’ve only had them manifest once.”

“What happened?”

“...I was getting arrested.” Mutt said darkly, his lights wavering as he recalled that memory.

“I’m sorry,” you turned and hugged Mutt tightly. “I didn’t mean to bring that up.”

“No worries,” Mutt held you back, burying his face in your hair.

“Um.. out of curiosity,” you asked, hoping to draw the conversation away from that sore topic, “Do you know what your brothers can summon?”

“We can all do bone summons in various ways, but I don’t know everyone’s weapon. You know that Axe has a cleaver,” Mutt mumbled into the top of your head, “and I know that Milord has a rapier, I’ve seen that.” He lifted his skull, clearly searching through his memory. “Let’s see... Red has a battleaxe... and Edge has a mace.”

“What about the others? Pap, Sans, and Butch?”

“Never seen theirs.” Mutt said. “Pap’s magic doesn’t do damage, I doubt he can summon a weapon, but he can still summon bones so you never know. I’ve never actually seen Butch summon anything. He’s too timid; he prefers running to confrontation. Sans… he’s the kind of guy that doesn’t get angry; he’s too laid back. I’ve seen him get mad once or twice, but he’s mostly a pacifist. I can’t even think of a situation that would give him killing intent.”

You nodded. Mutt had lived with Milord before coming to this house, so it made sense he would know about him, but… “Do Red and Edge really get that angry? That they would have killing intent towards their own brothers?”

“Eh, not exactly.” Mutt gave a half-hearted shrug. “Sure, they get pissed off easily, but they wouldn’t actually kill family. No, they just like to summon it when they’re really angry to show it off and because they can. They think it’ll intimidate others into doing what they want.”

“But you said that the weapons can only be summoned with killing intent?”

“For most of us, that’s true.” Mutt slid down in his seat slightly and held you to his chest as he leaned his skull against the back of his chair. “Someone with high LOVE can manifest it at will, since they’re capable of that kind of violence without life threatening danger. Only Red and Edge are at at that level.”

“Then, how do you know that Axe has a cleaver?”

“...I don’t think he’d like it if I told you.” Mutt squirmed uncomfortably beneath you. “But Butch told you about them and how they lived before so… you kind of already know. After Sans picked them up and they first started to live here, they were practically Feral. You know that Axe is super protective of Butch. He attacked us more than once for misunderstandings. Sans had to restrain him quite a bit, at first.”

“What do you mean, misunderstandings?” You asked, your heart clenching painfully at the thought of the brothers fighting like that.

“Over food, what else?” Mutt said and dug in his hoodie for another cigarette. “They tried to eat everything in the house, every time Pap came back with more. We had to stop them. Back then, Axe saw that as an attempt to take food from Butch, so he attacked.”

You gripped at the t-shirt Mutt had lent you and thought about your plants upstairs. Would they be okay after being around all that magic? You had to get them to grow. You couldn’t bear the thought of Axe or Butch going back to that, to have them be so afraid of starving that they’d attack their own brothers over food.

Mutt patted the pockets of his hoodie, the unlit cigarette hanging in between his fangs, and looked around on the floor. His red lights flickered as he spotted his lighter on the desk and he summoned it towards him with a flick of clove scented magic.

“I wish I could do magic, like you.” You sighed, watching Mutt snatch the lighter out of the air.

“Why?” Mutt raised a bony brow at you, confused. “You never need a weapon as long as you have us. We’ll protect you.”

“I didn’t mean it like that; I don’t want a weapon.” You shook your head and sat up so that Mutt could light his cigarette without having you too close to the tiny flame. “It’s the other things you guys can do. You can move objects with magic, you can heal, and you can go anywhere you want in the blink of an eye. I would  _ love _ to be able to teleport.”

“Just ask us if you want to go somewhere. It’s not a big deal.” Mutt chuckled and exhaled a cloud of purple smoke across the floor. At the look on your face, he added, “Oh, you mean travelling off the mountain, don’t you?”

You nodded. “It would make going to school a lot easier. And the grocers and the mall… It’s a pain, taking a two hour bus ride to get into town.”

“Sorry, love.” Mutt ran his fingers through your hair, his eye lights soft. “I wish I could help.”

“It’s okay, it’s not like I haven’t thought about the other options.” You shrugged noncommittally. “It would be nice having a car. I wouldn’t have to wake up so early or follow the bus schedule… and I know my job will be difficult once spring thaw comes. I’ll need supplies…”

“So, get a car? Sans pays you enough, doesn’t he?”

“I can’t make a purchase like that, I need that money for school. I have tuition to pay.”

“Then ask him for more, if you need it.”

“I can’t do that!” You gasped, offended. “He already pays me more than he should! It would be super ungrateful of me! I know I can save up to buy an old junker in a few checks, but I couldn’t afford the repairs it’ll need. I’ll just have to wait and get one late spring. I can manage in the meantime.”

“Hm…” Mutt’s lights narrowed at you, scrutinizing you. “If you need repairs, Pap can do it.”

“Pap?” You asked, surprised.

“Sure, he’s a mechanical genius.” Mutt flipped his spent cigarette between his teeth. “I know he liked to build puzzles back in the Underground and you can’t do that without understanding how machines work. Not to mention he’s the one that fixes everything that breaks around the house and he’s built most of the furniture.”

“Really?”

“Yup. He built that dresser I gave you.” Mutt sat up, wheeled you both back towards the computer and unpaused the game. “Don’t you worry about a thing, Robin. I’ll take care of it.”

“Take care of what?” You asked, but Mutt directed your attention towards the game.

“Let me show you a Dwemer ruin. They kind of remind me of the Underground.”

~~~

The total darkness you woke up to had you thinking, for a brief moment, that you were back in Sans’ room. Then the smell of clove washed over you as you yawned and Mutt drew you closer as he murmured in his sleep. You ran your fingers over the top of his skull and whispered to him gently, trying to pry yourself from his grip and the sheets without waking him. You could feel his ribs vibrate against you as he growled and pulled you back down into the sheets, rolled over, and trapped you to the bed.

“Come on, Mutt, I have school.” you whispered and poked him in the ribs, earning another growl.

“...why?” Mutt grumbled, his sockets cracking open and his fuzzy red lights focusing on you. “Just stay here, with me. It’s warm and comfortable...”

You gave him a small kiss and felt his grip on you relax. “Tempting, but I can’t ignore my studies. I’ll be back before you know it.”

“I already know it.” Mutt tapped at his sharp teeth, smirking, “so how about one more before you go? To hold me over.”

“Just one.” you said, rolling your eyes and letting Mutt pull you into him. He leaned sleepily into your kiss, his fingers twitching as they ran through your hair. 

“Alright,” he mumbled, letting you sit up with the taste of clove still tingling on your tongue, “get going before I pin you down and make you stay.”

“Have a good day, Mutt.” you said and gave his hand a small squeeze as you got up from the bed.

“You too, Robin.” you heard him say as you ascended the creaky stairs into the kitchen.

The clock on the stove told you that, while you weren’t pressed for time, you didn’t have much to spare. Before you headed upstairs, you set a pot of water on the stove to boil and got out your supplies for a pour over, thinking that you could multitask. You set a pair of mugs out and headed up to the second story, hoping that you would get a chance to see Milord before you left. If nothing else, you wanted to at least apologize for trying to take too much of his time.

A peak up the narrow staircase showed you that the magic had finally cleared from your room. Grabbing your duffel bag and Pap’s scarf from your bathroom, you headed up the narrow steps. Though the magic was gone, your room still smelled a little bit like sweet rot.

As you pulled on a purple sweater dress and white stockings, you checked your plants. They all seemed fine, none of them looked like they were withering, but you would soon need dirt and pots to put them in. All of the bulbs you had separated had green shoots sprouting, but one plant in each of the pairs you had set in various places had more growth than the other. You poked at the tender stalk, wondering if it was the monster or human variety, and decided that it wouldn’t matter too much as long as both plants in one pair grew. If you needed to, you could ask one of the brothers to point out which was which.

With your heavy backpack on your shoulder, you returned to the kitchen. You left the bag to wait by the table as you switched out the boiling water for a pan of milk.

It was hard not to look over your shoulder as you did your pour overs. You would hear the click of his boots in the hall or smell his magic.

You sat at the table and set the extra mug in front of the empty seat across from you, where Milord had been sitting yesterday when you played chess. You sipped your latte, your chest tight, and leaned over to double check your bag had everything you needed for the day.

When your own mug was empty, you stared at the full one across from yours. The steam was gone; it wouldn’t be warm for much longer.

You got up to rinse your cup and checked the time. It was getting late. You couldn’t miss the bus, or you’d miss half of your morning classes, too.

You wrapped Pap’s scarf around your neck and lugged your heavy bag out into the hall. It was a waste, just leaving the cold latte on the table, but you couldn’t bring yourself to pour it out.


	16. Ch 16 - The Paths We Take

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Huzzah! Another chapter up for you lovlies! My apologies that a certain part is taking so long, I'm hoping it'll be up with the next chapter but... I had so many things to set up before that moment and it just kind of got away from me. D:
> 
> Also, Mother_Mortician has painted Red's room! I love their work, seriously, go check this awesomeness out.
> 
> Red's Room!
> 
> And just in case it doesn't work after my edit fix, here's the plain link: https://www.instagram.com/p/CAW8Y51Dnxi/?utm_source=ig_web_copy_link

Ch 16 - The Paths We Take

The high, noon sun poured into the hallway and warmed your leather jacket. You looked out of the third story window, at the snow covered campus, and watched the people below walk the icy paths between the brick buildings. The other students in the warm hall, your classmates from psychology, waited much less patiently. Most of them leaned with their backs on the window while they browsed their phones or reread the notices on the cork bulletin boards for study groups, used books for sale, or the various social events on campus for Valentines this weekend. You preferred watching the people through the window, wondering what their daily lives were like and making outlandish guesses about them based on their appearance. It was a game you invented for yourself back in the hospital and it never failed to entertain you.

‘ _ That guy likes horses.’ _ you thought to yourself, smiling as you watched a student trundle through the snow in clunky boots and a denim jacket, eating carrot sticks as he walked. ‘ _ He has a sweet old mare that he likes to teach kids to ride on, but he really wants a stallion that he can run races with.’ _

_ ‘That girl wants to go to Hawaii.’ _ you smiled, spotting a girl with a large, ornamental silk flower braided into her hair as she dropped her books in the snow. ‘ _ She studies geology and wants to live on the volcano for research, but she’s afraid of heights so she’ll go there by boat instead of flying.’ _

You had just spotted another student, this one with long dreadlocks and wearing only a t-shirt and shorts, and were trying to think of his story when a door opened down the hall and a stern voice called out your name. You looked away from the window, shouldered your heavy backpack, and passed the line of waiting students into the office.

“Sit.” Your professor, a stern, older woman gestured at the single, uncomfortable looking chair in front of her desk. She had a pointed nose, wrinkles around her scrunched up eyes, and liberal streaks of grey in her hair bun. You quickly did as your professor demanded and waited patiently for her to speak to you again.

As your professor sat behind her metal desk, a manilla folder in her hand, you looked around the familiar room. The dozens of colored bookmarks had moved somewhat in the hundreds of books filling the shelves behind her, and the large office space still smelled like the mixture of face powder and cheap coffee that you remembered from your first time here in your sophomore year. The walls still held the shined picture frames bearing her various doctoral degrees in her field. You stared at the lacquered name plaque on your professor’s neatly arranged desk - ‘ _ Meredith Pierce, Head of Psych Department.’ _

She was not only the Head of Department, she had also become your advisor when you switched your major to psychology. She had taught many of your classes, including one this semester, Abnormal Psych, which was her field of specialization.

“Top of your classes, as I expected of you.” Your professor nodded as her eyes darted across the papers inside the folder, giving you a small nod of approval as she flipped the paper over. “All prerequisites met, save for two that you are fulfilling this semester… and you have even taken the optional courses to cover practical application. Excellent. Yes, I see absolutely no reason why I cannot recommend you for clinical studies after graduation.”

“Thank you, ma’am.” You smiled and your professor’s thin lips turned up at the corners. Other students would say she did not smile, but you knew that little movement was the most she would give anyone. “I’m still not sure where I want to go, after I graduate. I know I can start work right away as a guidance counsellor, or-”

“For someone of your determined mindset?” your professor leaned back in her chair and raised a thin, penciled eyebrow at you. “I would recommend graduate school. You have an astounding emphatic ability and a brilliant mind, young lady. Not to mention the deductive reasoning that makes or breaks people in this field. With your strong work ethic and willingness to go above and beyond, I see no reason why you should not acquire a doctorate in your field of choice.”

“Thank you, ma’am,” you repeated, flushing pink at your professor’s high praise. You knew from experience that she was not easy to please.

“Have you decided on your specialization?” you professor asked, digging through the manilla folder for another paper. “I have here that the subject you submitted for your thesis is… a phobia study? You’re interested in abnormal psychology?”

“Um, that’s not the whole topic for the paper, ma’am.” you let your eyes come up from her name plate and meet her dark gaze. “It’s actually a study that explores the parallels of irrational fears in a phobia with that of the fears brought about by the monsters on Mount Ebott. It will go on to explain the methods of overcoming irrationality by utilizing a combination of education and exposure.”

Your professor’s thin eyebrows reached up towards her graying hair, and you knew you had her curiosity.

“It’s an attempt to explain why people shouldn’t fear them,” you said quickly, “but I don’t think that it’s a good parallel anymore, ma’am. Phobias are deep seated fears, where as I feel the fear the general population has is brought about by simple ignorance. I was actually hoping to tell you today that I wanted to change the subject of my thesis to a study on monster psychology. But I wanted your advice on how to write the paper, since I don’t want to psychoanalyze the subjects, I want to help people understand them better so that they’re not afraid.”

“That is… an interesting topic.” Professor Pierce picked up one of the many sharpened, neatly arranged pencils from her desk and started to make notes in the manilla folder. “However, there are several problems. Your new subject material lies in a nonexistent field. You are talking about studying something which has no prior base of knowledge, that of the monsters that live on the mountain. I see that you are taking Monster Studies, but that is not adequate reference for this paper. No one has lived with monsters before, no one interacts with them, and there has been a complete media blackout on anything related to them since their emergence that is not related to law or trade. They are a complete unknown.”

“But what if we could change that?” You asked, earning another raising of your professor’s thin eyebrows. “My minor in Monster Studies also requires a thesis. Our midterms are submitting the rough draft of our idea, and mine is to get the law changed to dissolve the segregation of human and monster society. I’ll be documenting the whole process and reasons why I think it would be of benefit. If I can get the law changed, then people will be able to finally meet them.”

Pierce watched you for a long moment, the pencil quite still in her hand. Her stern voice then spoke slowly, as if she was thinking hard about every word, “There is still the fact… that you speak of a reluctance to psychoanalyze your subject, if you had one. You cannot accurately study the mind of something if you are not willing to take it apart.”

“With all due respect, ma’am, they’re not puzzles to take apart and put back together.”

“You’re dedication to patient confidentiality is admirable, but you do realize that you are not a doctor, nor are monsters protected under that law since they are not, in fact, human?”

You felt your gaze harden at her words. “I don’t want to do that to my friends, especially without their permission.”

“You’re friends?” Pierce’s thin brow jumped towards her greying hairline. “You are familiar with a monster, to the point you could delve into their psyche?”

You nodded, “I would like to say that I’m very close with them.”

“Them? You know many?”

You offered, hoping that your professor would have an open mind. “I currently live with monsters, ma’am. If I do share anything of the things I’ve learned from them, I want it to be everything that might help humans understand monsters and be less afraid of them. I already asked my professor for Monster Studies about doing this, but he said no, so I wanted to see if I could write it from a psychological standpoint so that I can still get the information out there.”

Your professor stared at you, her mouth hanging open. The pencil in her hand came loose and fell to the floor. “You… live with monsters?”

“Yes, a family of brothers. I work as their groundskeeper. Monsters aren’t terrible like everyone says!” you added immediately, your cheeks warm with indignity as your professor’s eyes widened. “The guys I live with are wonderful people, and there’s nothing to fear from them! They’re a bit different, yes, but they’re kind and helpful and-”

“Don’t get so defensive, I said nothing to suggest I was racist.” Your professor snapped, her brow furrowing with irritation. “It is a shocking thing to hear, that you are living with monsters, but doesn’t mean your proposal is acceptable. The subject you are discussing with me has no established field in psychology.”

You felt yourself deflate and picked at your white stockings. This was going to be so much harder than you thought. Not only was getting the law changed going to be difficult, so many people liked it the way it was, but on top of that you wouldn’t be able to get any new information out there that might change peoples’ minds.

“I can’t allow you to do such a drastic change in your paper’s topic with midterms swiftly approaching.” Professor Pierce made another note in the manilla folder containing your information. “Your workload is about to increase tenfold as it is. You may like to go above and beyond, but even you have a limit to how much you can handle without a mental breakdown. So if you find yourself in need of assistance with this law change, you may come to me for advice.”

Your gaze snapped up and you saw the smallest of real smiles on your professor’s stern face, her dark eyes shining at you. “You’ll… help?”

“Of course.” Pierce huffed and set your folder, closed, upon her metal desk. “I cannot do it for you, but I know the professor that teaches Monster Studies. You haven’t told him the entire purpose of your paper on the segregation law, have you?”

“No, ma’am.”

“I figured as much. Though I am not allowed to provide assistance with your paper, I feel no professional guilt in pointing you in the right direction. Changing a law is no easy matter, but it is an endeavor that I, in fact, hope you succeed.”

Your gaze snapped up, hope bubbling in your chest. “Really?”

“Of course.” your professor stood and made her way to the door, her hand resting on the handle as she said, “I also recommend staying on track for a graduate degree in abnormal psychology, given your interests. What could be more abnormal than a monster? But you cannot study them if they are trapped up on Mount Ebott.” 

You picked your heavy backpack off the floor and Professor Pierce opened the door for you. On your way out, you managed to say, “Thank you. I… didn’t think anyone would help me.”

Pierce’s thin lips turned up at the corners. “I also advise that you write a paper on that new thesis topic you discussed with me, young lady. Though it is not a requirement for your courses, and you will receive no grade, I think you’ll find it might come in handy.” She opened the door, her dark eyes shining as she let you pass. “Keep me updated on your progress. I have an idea on a career path for you, but I must gather all the facts before I present it.”

~~~

Your boots crunched in the show as you hopped off of the empty bus. You were used to being the last person off, since this was the last stop on the route, but you weren't used to it being this dark. Though, that was to be expected, given how late you had finally left campus.

"You sure you're okay?" The bus driver, a widened old man with thick glasses and a shiny bald head, watched you with concern as you nearly slipped and fell on the ice. He quickly got out of his seat and helped you to your feet with shaking hands. "It's the end of the line for today, shouldn’t you be heading home?” 

"I'm fine! I actually live not too far from here." You gave the driver a smile and adjusted your heavy burdens - a backpack overflowing with homework and a bag of books that already had a rip in the bottom. The old man picked up some of the books that had fallen to the metal floor and glanced over them.

"I've seen you before, heading up the mountain." The old man glanced nervously up the dark road leading into the forest. "It's not safe for anyone up there, with monsters prowling around. Especially for a pretty girl like you."

"Don't worry, I have someone meeting me." You said, watching the old man place your books back inside the bag. At least you hoped Axe would make an appearance; you didn't relish the thought of hiking alone in the dark. You cradled the books, your hand holding the rip in the bag together, and nodded another thank you to the driver. "Be safe getting back, sir!"

The doors of the bus hissed closed and you started your trek up the long, dark path towards home, already winded from the heavy weight in your arms and on your back. Professor Pierce hadn't been joking when she said your workload was about to increase tenfold. Not only had your teachers given you assignments to make up for the snow days, but now you had prep work for midterms, the extra research for your thesis projects, and that independent paper that Pierce recommended that you write anyway. You knew she wouldn’t have told you to do it unless she thought it was important, especially after she warned you about trying to do too much...

Given your alarming new workload, you had wanted to stay on campus tonight, in the library, but you hadn't said anything to the brothers about staying in town and didn't want them to worry if you didn’t come home. The bus stop was nearly out of sight before you heard the engine rumble and the driver turned around. It was sweet, you thought, that the old man was concerned for your safety.

The cold wind carried the hot clouds of your breath away and rattled the bare limbs of the trees. You watched the dark forest anxiously, searching for a lone, red light among them as you hiked up the long, snowy road. To your disappointment, and with a slight, creeping feeling of fear, you noted Axe’s absence. He usually waited for you, to greet you and walk with you after you got off the bus. Why wasn’t he here? Were you just that late that he gave up on waiting?

You paused in your hike, to adjust the weight in your arms and look around you. The silence was eerie and made the hair on the back of your neck stand up. There were no owls calling, no wolves howling; even the crunch of snow from your boots was muffled. You had that feeling before, that something was watching you, but later on you had just assumed that it was Axe following you for fun. Now, alone and in the dark, that feeling was a little more sinister.

_ “A falling star fell from your heart and landed in my eyes,”  _ you sang softly to yourself, more to chase away the silence and the feeling of dread that came with it than anything else.  _ “I screamed aloud, as it tore through them, and now it’s left me blind.” _

As you sang, you felt a little more emboldened against your worries. Despite feeling winded from the climb and from your burdens, your voice picked up strength and you chased away the fear in your chest.

_ “And in the dark, I can hear your heartbeat _

_ I tried to find the sound _

_ But then it stopped, and I was in the darkness _

_ So darkness I became” _

The notes of your song carried on the wind and echoed around you, filling you with a strange contentment. Like whatever was watching you was listening. Your chest felt warm, like you had just opened a hot oven before you, but that was probably from the hike.

_ “I took the stars from our eyes and then I made a map _

_ And knew that somehow I could find my way back _

_ Then I heard your heart beating, you were in the darkness too _

_ So I stayed in the darkness with you.” _

You almost missed the green sign with the number 66 on it, but the lights from the house caught your eye and you made your way slowly up the drive, kept warm by the heat in your chest.

_ “The stars, the moon, they have all been blown out _

_ You’ve left me in the dark _

_ No dawn, no day, I’m always in this twilight _

_ In the shadow of your heart.” _

As you approached the front door you stopped singing and the icy air quickly replaced that warm feeling in your chest. You kicked the snow off your boots and went inside, grateful that you had made it home safe without meeting any strange monsters or hearing that warbling song on the wind.

“-AND I’M TELLING YOU, I’M THE ONLY ONE WHO KNOWS HOW TO DEAL WITH HIM NOW!” You heard Edge’s sharp voice yell. You jumped, startled by how hostile the air in the house was. The bag in your arms tore open and your books thudded loudly against the wooden floor.

“...I said… no!” Axe yelled back, scaring you even more. He and Edge were arguing? About what? The sound was coming from the living room, along with the smell of iron and gasoline. You dropped your heavy backpack, stepped over the pile of books, and headed towards the noise.

“HE’S NOT GOING TO JUST SUDDENLY GAIN CONTROL!” Edge snapped, black plasma leaking from his clenched fists as he glared down at Axe, his tall frame easily towering over his shorter brother. He made a movement towards Axe, like he was trying to get in his face, but you spotted Papyrus on his other side with his hands between them, preventing the two from attacking each other. “YOU DON’T KNOW WHAT IT’S LIKE, SO IT’S GOT TO BE ME!”

“...he doesn’t… need your help!” Axe growled, red plasma also leaking from his fists. From your spot in the entrance to the living room, you could see that his red light was narrowed so thin it was almost nonexistent, and his teeth were turned down in an angry scowl. Only now could you see Butch sitting on the couch with Axe guarding him protectively. Butch’s hands covered his face while his white lights darted between his brothers. “...he’ll learn control… just fine… without you!”

“SO YOU WOULD RATHER HE REMAINS DEFENSELESS?” Edge growled, his black magic slowly forming in his hands into something more substantial. “WITH THAT THING IN THE HOUSE? ARE YOU TRYING TO GET HIM KILLED?”

“...you’re so called… training… is what would… get him killed!”

“HE WON’T GET HURT IF HE LEARNS CONTROL!”

“AXE, PLEASE, CALM DOWN.” Pap glanced between his brothers, his white lights the size of pinpricks with his anxiety, “EDGE, YOU TOO. YOU KNOW YOU CAN’T SUMMON YOUR WEAPON AROUND HIM. WE CAN TALK THIS OUT, CAN’T WE?”

“NO!” Edge shouted, rounding on Pap and dragging him into the argument. “YOU ALL ARE FUCKING IDIOTS, THINKING THAT YOU’RE SAFE! ALL IT TAKES IS THE ONE MOMENT THAT YOUR GUARD SLIPS, AND THAT’S WHEN IT’LL HAPPEN!”

“When what will happen?” you asked nervously, drawing every eye light in the living room to you.

“Lily... no!” Butch reached out from the couch, even as Edge rounded on you.

“GET OUT!” Edge roared. His magic was solidifying, taking shape in his one hand as he raised the other against you, like he was going to backhand you…

Faster than lightning, Axe pounced on Edge’s shoulders. The light was gone from his sockets and a look of anger you had never seen before was on Axe’s skull as he raised his fully formed cleaver high. Edge spun on the spot, reached over his shoulder, and pulled Axe off of him. He threw Axe across the room and into the far wall with a shuddering bang. Axe landed catlike on the floor, ignoring any pain he must have felt, poised to strike again.

“Axe, stop!” You shouted and ran at him just as he pounced again. By some miracle, you caught him in mid-jump and pulled him to the floor by his waist, where he snarled and struggled against you. You could hear your leather jacket tear as Axe scratched at you, trying to free himself to attack Edge.

“GET OFF ME, PAPYRUS!” Edge snarled. Trying as you were to hold Axe down, you barely caught out of the corner of your eye the sight of Pap grappling with Edge and his half formed weapon, trying to keep him from advancing.

“Axe, Axe please, calm down,” you huffed, struggling to keep Axe held to you. This wasn’t him, this anger, this single minded determination to hurt. You remembered what Mutt had said, that Axe had attacked his brothers before when he felt that Butch was threatened. “You’re better than this, Axe. Please, you don’t have to do this. Butch is safe, you both are. I’m here for you.”

Maybe your voice reached him, or maybe it was the sound of fear in your soul, but Axe slowly stopped struggling. Though the light hadn’t returned to his sockets, his body was still tensed to strike, and his weapon had not vanished from his hand. He allowed you to hold him, but that was all.

“Edge is your brother, Axe.” you said gently, hoping that your words were reaching him as you ran a gentle hand over the side of his skull. “I know you’re angry, but you don’t want to do this.”

Edge finally threw off Pap and snarled, “IF AXE WASN’T SO DAMN SENSITIVE-”

“shut up!” Butch snapped, his white lights glaring at Edge. Perhaps that assertive remark from him, more than anything else, finally caused Edge to give pause and fall silent. Butch quickly climbed off the couch and came to your side, kneeling on the wooden floor as he looked over his brother. To you, he said softly, “we need to… get him upstairs… where it’s quiet. he’s… lost right now.”

Lost? You looked at the sad waver in Butch’s eye lights and understood. Axe had disassociated. That’s why, even though he was much more still now, he hadn’t really come back to you. Something made him still feel he was threatened. His dark sockets and the cleaver still clenched tightly in his fist were proof enough.

“I’M TELLING SANS ABOUT THIS, WHEN HE GETS HOME.” Pap growled, glaring at Edge while Butch helped you get Axe to his feet. “YOU KNOW BETTER THAN TO BE SO AGGRESSIVE IN FRONT OF AXE!”

“I’M ONLY TRYING TO TEACH BUTCH TO DEFEND HIMSELF!” Edge snapped. “BUT GO AHEAD, NARK ON ME LIKE A-”

“Knock it off, Edge!” You growled, glaring at him over Axe’s shoulder as you and Butch held him up and guided him towards the stairs. “If you’re trying to be a good person with whatever this is, then stop throwing your weight around to get what you want and use some fucking tact like the rest of us!”

Edge fell silent, his red eyes wide like you had just slapped him across the face. Pap said something about making Axe a cup of tea, then ran off into the kitchen, leaving Edge alone in the living room.

As you and Butch guided Axe up the stairs, you said weakly, “So, um… I’m glad you’re awake now, Butch.”

Butch gave you a pained sort of grimace. “I just wish… I woke up… later. after Edge… had gone to work.”

“What happened?” you asked as you reached the narrow staircase to your room and Butch pushed you ahead with Axe. One of Axe’s copper colored slippers fell off and was left behind.

“later…” Butch shook his skull, his eye lights fixed on his brother, who had started to shake in your arms. “Axe… is more important… right now.”

Butch lifted you onto your bed settled Axe into your lap; wrapping the cream colored sheets tightly around you both. His lights narrowed at the tears in your jacket, but when he tried to remove it, Axe dropped his cleaver to the wooden floor and clung to you, shaking, his sockets still dark.

“Butch, I need to know why he’s like this.” you said softly, holding Axe’s skull to your chest while Butch sat behind you, his long arms wrapping around you and his brother. You had tried using the grounding technique that worked for you and Butch, but Axe wouldn’t respond. Butch tried the same thing, but he couldn’t get an answer out of his brother, either.

“too much violence… or threat of it... brings him back to… that place.” Butch mumbled in your ear, his skull resting against the side of your head as he squeezed you and Axe tightly. You knew, now that Butch had told you about their past, that he meant their life back in District 4. “usually… Sans can tell… when he needs… to leave. before things… get too bad. but… Sans isn’t… home. before... when it was just… the two of us… I didn’t know… how to stop this, either. I’d just… hold him… until he was… himself again.”

“So this was Edge’s fault?”

Butch shrugged. “not really… it was mine. Edge just… wanted to help me. but I don’t… I don’t want to… hurt things. I want to be… like Pap. a healer. but… he doesn’t want that. Edge. he… thinks you’ll… hurt us. so Axe… argued for me… to do what I want...”

Anger bubbled up in your chest. You already had this conversation with Edge; you would never hurt any of his brothers. You loved them. Axe squirmed in your arms, bristling at the noise from your soul, and you shoved that ugly feeling away. You could be angry later. Right now, Axe needed you.

You couldn’t think of anything to say, so you started to hum to cover that angry noise lingering in your soul. It was a gentle lullaby that you remembered that your mother would sing to you when you were upset. It vibrated in your chest, the song of comfort and safety she had left you, the notes filling you with the same warmth that had calmed you after you came home crying from bullies, or when you were scared from your nightmares. Axe’s grip tightened on your sweater dress and Butch watched you out of the corner of his sockets, his white lights hazy.

The smell of iron filled your nose as the cleaver on the floor dissolved into red plasma and drifted away. You gently brushed your fingers across the top of Axe’s skull, avoiding the jagged hole, and hummed your song on a loop. Even Butch nuzzled his face into your neck, sighing with contentment as he closed his sockets and listened.

A squeak echoed up from the narrow staircase as someone climbed up into your room. Pap emerged, a steaming mug in his mittened hands, and motioned down the steps. “THE DOOR WAS OPEN, SO I THOUGHT…”

“It’s okay, Pap.” you said, feeling Axe turn his skull to look at who had arrived. Pap offered him the hot drink, and you could smell the cinnamon tea as it passed beneath your nose.

“YOU’RE DOING BETTER, I SEE.” Pap said and sat on the corner of your bed, a slight note of jealousy in his voice as his eye lights looked over how closely you held Axe to your chest. You also saw, with a leap of joy in your heart, that Axe’s light had come back to join the vacant grin on his skull.

“...Willow takes care… of her betas.” Axe mumbled, sipping the tea.

“And the rest of you, too.” You said, gently untangling yourselves from the brothers with fiery determination burning in your gut. “You boys stay up here for now, okay?”

“WHERE ARE YOU GOING?”

“To talk to Edge!” You growled, finally letting yourself feel that anger now that Axe was better. “I’m giving that idiot a piece of my mind!”

“Lily… don’t!” Butch started to get out of bed, his white lights shrinking in fear.

“Oh yes I am!” You turned on Butch, pointed at the bed in a clear indication you wanted him to stay. “I have a good feeling about why he’s so pushy right now, and I won’t allow it! He can be an asshole all he wants to me, but not to any of you! So you boys stay up here and let me do this!”

As you stormed down the narrow staircase, thinking of everything you wanted to say, you heard Pap’s voice drift down to you. “SHE’S AWFULLY SCARY WHEN SHE’S ANGRY, ISN’T SHE?”

On the second floor, you marched straight past Red’s room to hammer on Edge’s door. No one answered, even after multiple tries, so you went downstairs to look for him. If he was in his room, avoiding you, you were going to make sure he knew how upset you were. Just the thought of him not answering on purpose was riling you up into a frenzy.

You stepped over your pile of books at the bottom of the steps, peaking into the empty living room. You caught movement out of the corner of your eye, a red scarf darting past the entryway further down the hall, and you practically ran the length to keep Edge from vanishing on you.

“YOU!” You snapped, sliding to a stop on the tile. Edge looked over his shoulder at you, a sneer on his skull, and set an empty pot down on the stove. “What the  _ hell _ is your problem, Edge?! Why would you do that to your brothers?”

“BE QUIET, PET. YOUR YIPPING IS IRRITATING.” Edge turned his back on you and lit a burner beneath the pot.

“Don’t-” You grabbed Edge’s scarf and pulled at it, making him bend down just enough that you could glare into those red lights of his. “-turn your back on me!”

“DON’T TOUCH ME!” Edge snarled, smacking your hand off his scarf with a glare that could curdle milk. “HOW DARE YOU-”

“ _ How dare I _ !?” You screeched, your voice echoing in the kitchen and down the hall. “How dare you! What the fuck is wrong with you? How could you do that to Axe? To Butch and Pap? Are you so determined to loathe me and think of me as some evil being that you would drag your brothers into your hate for me?!”

“IF IT KEEPS THEM ALIVE, YES!” Edge growled and bent, this time of his own volition, to your eye level so he could glare at you. “I KNOW YOUR KIND, HUMAN!”

“I’m not like her!” You screamed, your fists clenched as you felt your blood boil. This had to be because of the mystery girl Edge knew in the past, the one reason why he hated humans, and you, so much. Edge’s lights widened and he took a step back from you, confirming your suspicions. “I don’t know who hurt you in the past, Edge, or how, but I’m not her! You’ve threatened me before, and maybe you forgot, so I’ll tell you again: I love your brothers! I would never hurt them!”

“...HOW DO YOU KNOW ABOUT HER?” Edge’s normally loud voice had gone quiet, had turned as sharp as a razor, as his sockets went black and he looked down at you. “WHO TOLD YOU?”

“I figured it out myself!” You growled. “You know, for someone who’s so insistent on protecting his brothers, you sure do a terrible fucking job of it! They may love you because you’re family, but they sure as hell don’t like you very much when all you do is hurt them!”

“I DON’T CARE IF THEY LIKE ME, SO LONG AS THEY’RE ALIVE!” Edge’s hard tone wavered slightly and one of his hands rested on the handle of the boiling pot behind him.

“But you’re okay with hurting them?” You took a step forward, forcing Edge to back against the stove. “Do you even realize how much you hurt them today with what you did? You’re okay with pushing Axe over the edge like that? How could you do that to him?”

“AS IF I KNEW THAT WOULD HAPPEN.” Edge rolled his eye lights, sliding along the counter to put distance between you and him, but you followed. “AXE HAS VIOLENT TENDENCIES, EVERYONE KNOWS THAT-”

“Not because he wants to!” You growled. “For fucks sake, Edge, do you not even know your own brother?”

“NO! NO ONE KNOWS HIM OR BUTCH!” Edge snapped and smacked the pot at you. You just barely missed the boiling water as it fell all over the floor. Thankfully, you hadn’t taken your boots off and they protected your feet from the steaming wave. “THEY’VE NEVER TOLD ANYONE ABOUT THEMSELVES!”

“Mutt knows! I know!”

“MUTT FOUND THEM, OF COURSE HE KNOWS MORE THAN US.” Edge reached out, grabbed you by your leather jacket and lifted you up to his socket level. His voice was dangerously sharp again as he hissed, “BUT YOU AVOID MY QUESTION, YET AGAIN, PET. WHO TOLD YOU ABOUT HER?”

“No one.” You glared into those sockets, angry that he didn’t seem to care about anything you were saying if it didn’t have to do with the one thing you knew about him. You grabbed him by the red scarf again, pulling his face closer to yours, and hissed, “But I know this: If you keep pushing your brothers away with your bullying, you won’t be there to protect them if something does happen. So stop trying to turn them into you and focus on becoming someone they want to trust with their lives.”

The corners of Edge’s snarl fell, just slightly, and then he threw you down into the hot water spreading across the tile. He kicked at the empty pot, which ricocheted loudly off the walls and cupboards, then disappeared in a plume of gasoline scented magic.

The door down the hall banged open and Mutt came rushing in, his ribs heaving under his orange t-shirt. He took one look at you on the floor, at the pot and steaming water, and rushed to your side.

“What the hell just happened?” He asked, helping you to your feet. You glared at the dented pot and tried to wring out your hot, wet clothes.

“Edge and I had a conversation.” You grumbled, still angry. “What’ve you been doing, that you didn’t hear all that?”

“Laundry.” Mutt looked nervously up towards the ceiling. “Was that really you yelling like that? I’m surprised he didn’t deck you. Or-” a dark look came over his skull, “-is that why you were on the floor?”

“He didn’t hit me, don’t worry about it.” You said, waving his hands away as he tried to check you for injury. “I need to get back upstairs. Come with me?”

“Sure.” Mutt followed you, confused, as you led him down the hall, over your pile of books and book bag, and up the two flights of stairs to your room.

As soon as you crested the last of the narrow steps, a red blur tackled you to the floor and squeezed you tight. You felt your cheeks turn pink as Butch nuzzled your face, a golden flush across his cheekbones.

“THAT WASN’T VERY SMART OF YOU, HONEY.” Pap commented as he pulled Butch off of you. Mutt helped you to your feet and glared over your shoulder at Butch. “MAKING EDGE ANGRY IS VERY DANGEROUS.”

“I know, but even I have a breaking point.” You huffed and returned to your bed where Axe was waiting, wrapped in your sheets, with most of his tea gone. “I can take a lot of crap for myself, but I won’t watch it happen to you guys.”

“Is that why you were so pissed?” Mutt asked, looking between you and his brothers in turn. 

“Mostly, yeah.” You nodded and rubbed at your temples, at the headache that throbbed behind your eyes. It happened whenever you let your temper get the best of you, and there wasn’t a lot that could make you angry like that. “Look, I’m sorry you guys had to hear me yell like that, but I needed to say it. I just think it might be best if I stay up here for awhile so that Edge has a chance to cool off before we run into each other again.”

So much for that chance he was giving you, you thought sadly. You let your temper get the best of you and now he was sure to hate you forever. No amount of ginger snaps, or tips from Red, or anything else could help you fix this.

“DOES THAT MEAN YOU WON’T BE HELPING WITH DINNER?” Pap asked. You shook your head.

“No, I’ve got too much homework to do, anyway.” You sighed and thought about your piles of books downstairs. “In fact, I’m glad I have so many of you here right now. I wanted to tell you that my midterms are coming up soon. That means I’ll be up here, studying, most of the time and that I’ll probably be coming home late pretty often.”

“You can use my computer if you need it.” Mutt offered, grinning. “Just walk in anytime.”

“I SUPPOSE, IF YOU’RE STUDYING, HAVING YOUR MEALS IN YOUR ROOM WON’T BE SUCH A BAD THING, FOR AWHILE.” Pap said thoughtfully, scratching at his skull. “BUTCH AND I SHOULD BE ABLE TO HANDLE THINGS BY OURSELVES, JUST UNTIL YOU’RE DONE WITH THESE MIDTERMS.”

“...can we… still visit you?” Axe asked, his skull tilted. You nodded.

“Of course. I’ll leave my door open, if that makes you guys feel better about walking in.”

“...can I stay… up here for awhile… longer?”

“As long as you want.” You smiled. Axe’s vacant grin stretched across his skull.

“HEY, MUTT, DO YOU WANT TO HELP?” Pap asked excitedly, pulling at his brother’s arm.

“Eh, you know I don’t cook.” Mutt shrugged.

“NONSENSE! IF RED CAN HELP, YOU CAN TOO!” Pap pulled a bewildered Mutt towards the stairs.

“Since when does Red cook?” Mutt looked towards you, his red lights wide, and you giggled.

Someone tugged shyly at your sleeve. You turned and saw Butch standing close to you, his white lights following Pap and Mutt down the stairs. “do you… want some help… with your books? before I… go help… with dinner?”

You thought of the giant pile in the entryway, the ripped bag, and your heavy backpack. “Yeah, I’d appreciate it. Thanks, Butch.”

“hey... Lily?” Butch asked quietly as you descended the stairs together, leaving Axe upstairs to wait on your bed. “where... did you learn to do that?”

“Do what?” you asked as you reached the bottom of the oak steps and began to gather your books.

“that... song.” Butch’s skull flushed gold as he remembered it. “I could… feel it in my soul. I’ve never… felt intent like that. comfort and safety and….” The gold color deepened and he avoided your gaze.

“It’s just something my mom used to sing.” You shrugged. “I didn’t know you would feel it in your soul. Maybe it’s like Font? I’m sure Red can tell me why.”

“Red…?” Butch looked up from the stack of books he was building.

“He’s teaching me how to speak Font.” you said, shouldering your backpack and doing your best to lift your own stack of books. “I’m not very good at it, but he’s patient with me and knows a lot about souls and intent. If singing is different for monsters, just like speaking, he’ll know the difference.”

“Oh…” Butch stared as his bare feet as he followed you up the stairs. “um, normally… we can’t… project like that. like you did… when you hummed.”

“No?”

Butch shook his head as his golden flush returned. “do you… would you… ever want to… do it again… for me?”

You stopped at the bottom of the narrow steps, your cheeks red. It was one thing to hum a lullaby to help comfort someone, it was quite another thing to sing a song out loud for an audience. Especially for someone who was a monster, when it might cause some kind of effect you knew nothing about. “I don’t think I’d mind it, Butch, but let me ask Red about it first. I don’t want to do anything on accident that might hurt you. But if he tells me it’s alright, then you’ll be the first one I go to, okay?”

While Butch carried your books and stacked them neatly on your pine dresser, you watched him out of the corner of your eye. Axe had already laid back on your bed, tangled in your sheets with his sockets closed, and napping.

“Hey, Butch?” You asked, letting your book bag fall gently onto the floor. Butch turned to you, his skull tilted curiously at the nervous tone in your voice. “You’re doing okay, right? After that color change?”

“it’s... different.” Butch said, holding his hand up to examine his own fingers. “I can’t really… control it, yet. and... it’s like… I don’t know. a… new pair… of shoes? it’s mine, but… it doesn’t feel like mine… yet.”

“So, if I hug you, I won’t cause you to summon on accident?” You asked, turning pink as Butch fiddled with his red, threadbare hoodie.

“n-no…”

You rushed forward, squeezing Butch tightly in your arms like you had been wanting to do for days. He stiffened in surprise, only for a moment, then wrapped his long arms around you and nuzzled the side of your head. You buried your face into his hoodie, mumbling, “I’m sorry, Butch. I was so worried about you and I know you were asleep, but I promised I wouldn’t leave you and I did anyway and I’m so sorry…”

“you... didn’t leave.” Butch whispered, his skull hot against your head as you felt his face flush. “I… um… I dreamed... about you. so... you were… there.”

Butch pulled away slightly, a lopsided smile on his skull, and one of his thumbs ran across your cheek as he watched you with hazy white lights. “I should… thank you. for taking care of… Axe and… standing up for… me. what you did… with Edge… was really brave. even though… I’m not… your beta.”

“Do you… want to be?” you asked, waiting for Butch to lean in closer. His whole skull flushed gold at your question and you could almost see his mind struggling with his answer.

“...yes, he does.” Axe’s slow voice said from the bed. You turned your head slightly and saw him watching the two of you with a bemused look upon his skull. “...just… kiss her already… you idiot. ...you know… you want to.”

Butch quickly pulled away from your, his hands covering the color on his face, and he made a weird little twitch. He did it again, and this time you recognized that he was trying to teleport. But his magic wouldn’t obey him, so he ran from your room with his skull glowing. Axe’s slow, tumbling chuckle filled the room and you whirled around to face him, your own cheeks pink.

“What the hell, Axe? You know he’s shy!” You snapped, trying to be angry, but feeling too embarrassed to be properly mad.

“...then next time,” Axe grinned playfully, pulling your sheets over the top of his skull, “...I’ll hold him down… and you kiss him.”

“You’re such a clod.” You grumbled, finding a dry sweatshirt to change into. You tossed your leather jacket over your dresser and pulled off the wet, purple sweater dress you had been wearing. Axe smirked, started to get up off the bed, and you tossed it in his face with a wet smack. “Oh no, no fooling around for you, sir. That’s your punishment for teasing your brother.”

Axe growled, pulling the wet dress off of his skull just in time to see you pull your grey sweatshirt over your head. “...you’re mean.”

“If I wanted to be mean, I would tell you that you have to help me with my homework.” you smirked back at him and gathered your books for your first few subjects. Psychology would be the best starting point. You knew you shouldn’t leave calculus for last, but if your tutor wasn’t talking to you... “But since I love you, you can lay with me and watch me work, as long as you promise to be good.”

~~~

The moon filtered into your room, reminding you of how late it was. You scratched at your heavy eyes and looked to your side, where Axe had fallen asleep while watching you. A smile tugged at your tired cheeks. When you had first started living here, his unwavering gaze and silent observation had been so off-putting. Now, you thought to yourself as you pulled the sheets over Axe, it made you feel comforted.

You marked the page you were currently working on and set your books on the floor. Taking up both of your dishes from dinner, you tiptoed across the room and down the narrow staircase. Sleep sounded lovely, but the weekend was only a few days away. You wanted free time to spend with the brothers, to unwind and relax, rather than constantly studying and let your stress levels build up.

Maybe, you thought as you tiptoed down the dark, oak steps, you might prompt Mutt or Axe into fooling around a little. There were other ways to relieve stress than just lazing about.

Smiling to yourself, you turned on the lights in the kitchen and got to work making a cup of instant coffee. Milord wouldn’t mind if you just took one cup, right? And if he did mind, maybe that would get him to finally talk to you. Or maybe, as long as you got all of your homework done, you and Mutt could team up over the weekend to get Milord to take some time off. 

_ “When the truth is found,” _ you sang to yourself, feeling buoyant from your thoughts and plans for your time off,  _ “to be lies and all the joy within you dies _

_ Don’t you want somebody to love? _

_ Don’t you need somebody to love? _

_ Wouldn’t you love somebody to love? _

_ You better find somebody to love.” _

You spun on the spot, using your spoon as a mock microphone while you swayed your hips, pretending that you were singing to a crowd at the table as the water on the stove boiled.

_ “When the garden flowers _

_ Baby, are dead, yes _

_ And your mind, your mind _

_ Is so full of red.” _

The mug of coffee sat on the counter, steaming, while you moved to wash the dishes you and Axe had used for dinner.

“ _ Your eyes, I say your eyes _

_ May look like his _

_ Yeah, but in your head, baby _

_ I’m afraid you don’t know where it is. _

_ Don’t you want somebody to love? _

_ Don’t you need somebody to love?” _

A large shadow loomed over you and cut off your words. You looked up, at Edge’s towering frame, and dropped the sponge in surprise. “I’m sorry, Edge, I didn’t mean to bother you-”

“SHUT UP.” Edge growled. He picked you up and set you on the counter, staring at you with narrowed red lights, and began to pace back and forth in front of you like a tiger. You opened your mouth again, to say something, and he cut you off with a wave of his hand.

He continued to pace, silently staring you down, and you waited with your nerves fluttering in your stomach. If he was angry with you, why didn’t he say something?

“I… HAVE THOUGHT ABOUT WHAT YOU SAID.” Edge said slowly, thinking over his words carefully. “PERHAPS… YOU AREN’T AS WRONG I AS I ONCE THOUGHT.”

“Huh?” You blinked up at Edge, not knowing where he was going with this.

“MY BROTHERS, AXE AND BUTCH, TOLD YOU ABOUT THEIR PAST, YES?” Edge asked you. You nodded and he scowled. “THEN YOU ARE UNIQUE IN THAT. THEY HAVE TOLD NO ONE ELSE. HOW DID YOU EARN THEIR TRUST?”

“I listened.” You said, watching Edge start to pace again. “And I didn’t push them for it. I told them my story and then they wanted to tell me theirs.”

“SO YOU KNOW THEIR WEAKNESSES, BUT YOU PROTECT THEM.” Edge growled, his pace increasing with his irritation. “WHO ELSE?”

“What do you-”

“WHO ELSE HAS OPENED UP TO YOU?” Edge snapped, getting in your face as he slammed his hands on either side of you on the counter.

“Um, Mutt.” You narrowed your eyes, still not sure what Edge was after. “Pap and Sans. Red, kind of. And I guess Milord, too, in his own way.”

“ESSENTIALLY, THEN, MY WHOLE FAMILY.”

“Yes, but-”

“HOW DID YOU DO IT?”

“Huh?”

Edge sighed irritably and rolled his eye lights. “HOW DID YOU GET THEM TO TRUST YOU?”

“I didn’t force it, if that’s what you mean.” You crossed your arms and glared at Edge. “They came to me of their own will, and I let them move things at their own pace. You can’t force trust, Edge. Why do you think I told you that you didn’t have to give me a chance unless you wanted to?”

“DO YOU STILL MEAN WHAT YOU SAID?” Edge asked, leaning until his face was an inch from yours. “THAT YOU WOULD DIE TO PROTECT THEM?”

“If it came to that, yes.” You leaned back, raising your eyebrow at Edge. Was he planning something?

“THEN IT SEEMS WE HAVE… A COMMON GOAL.” Edge said reluctantly, his black tongue darted out between his sharp teeth to lick the tips. “YOU MAY NOT HAVE ANY STRENGTH TO SPEAK OF, BUT YOUR ACTIONS TODAY… IMPRESSED ME.”

You stiffened. Was that a compliment? From Edge?

Edge crossed and uncrossed his arms uncomfortably as he tried to hold your gaze, but at the same time, not look at you, as he asked, “WHY HAVE YOU NOT USED YOUR SCARS AGAINST ME, PET?”

“Huh?”

“DO YOU NOT REMEMBER YOUR OWN DEALS?” Edge said sharply. “YOU OFFERED ME ONE QUESTION ABOUT YOUR SCARS AND, IN EXCHANGE, I GIVE YOU A CHANCE.”

“But you already asked about them.” you pointed out.

“NO, I ASKED WHY YOU DID NOT FIGHT BACK AGAINST THE FIRE.” Edge rolled his eye lights at you. “NOW ANSWER MY QUESTION, PET.”

“I want one question, too.” You said, thinking back on your previous conversations with Edge and realizing that he was right. He never asked about your scars and, thus, he felt no obligation to give you a chance. “And you have to answer mine first, so I know that you’ll actually do it.”

“FINE.” Edge leaned on the counter next to you, staring at the wall. “YOU GET ONE, JUST ONE, AND IT CANNOT BE ABOUT HER.”

You picked at your white stockings, watching Edge out of the corner of your eye. There was so much you wanted to ask him. Was he angry with you? Why was he coming to you now? Did something you say to him earlier get under his skin? (in a manner of speaking) Or was he jealous that you were so much closer to his brothers than he was? 

That was just what you currently wanted to know. Then there were all the things about his past. Why did Red call him boss? Why did he hate weakness so much? What was his life like with just him and Red in District 3? Did he struggle with food, like Axe and Butch, or did he have to deal with some other hardship?  
“WELL? ARE YOU GOING TO ASK, OR NOT?” Edge asked irritably.

“I have a lot of questions!” You grumbled, gripping your sweatshirt tightly. If you could only ask one thing, and it couldn’t be about her, then, “Why did you join the Royal Guard?”

Edge sighed and ran his gloved hand over his skull. “BECAUSE RED FORCED ME TO. NOW ANSWER MY QUESTION.”

You blinked in surprise.  _ Red _ forced him to? Why? Was it to protect him? From what?

Edge snapped his fingers in front of your face, drawing your attention back to the kitchen. “ARE YOU ALWAYS THIS ABSENT MINDED? YOU’RE WORSE THAN VANILLA.”

“Sorry, I just… have a lot to think about now.” You said, earning another scowl from Edge. To placate him, you explained, “I hide my scars because I’m ashamed of them. Humans don’t see them the same way monsters do. I was hated for my scars. People…” you drew your legs up, trying to tame the pain that always came when you thought of their scorn, “they thought I was disgusting. The only reason I showed them here is because of your brothers’ encouragement. If it weren’t for them, I would have hidden them all my life. Learning that you guys think of them as intimidating… I didn’t care for that. I don’t want fear or hate. I want love.”

“I OBVIOUSLY WOULD NOT LOVE YOU.” Edge said, his sharp voice blunted slightly as his eye lights looked over your arm, where he knew some of your scars hid. “WHY WOULD YOU THEN NOT USE THEM TO SUBDUE ME, GIVEN THAT I’VE ALREADY SHOWN YOU HOSTILITY?”

You shrugged at the question. “Because I’d like to believe that even you have love somewhere in you. Maybe we’ll never be close like I am with some of your other brothers, but I would like us to be friends.”

Edge watched you for a long time out of the corner of his sockets. “...YOU’RE A STRANGE HUMAN, KNOW THAT?”

“I’m alright with being strange.” You smiled at Edge. He looked very uncomfortable by the expression. “Hey, do you like movies?”

“HUH?”

“Movies. Do you remember when I got presents for your brothers?”

“HOW COULD I FORGET?” Edge rolled his eye lights and his fingers drummed against the counter irritably. “RED IS CONSTANTLY WEARING THOSE HEADPHONES YOU GOT HIM. HE NEVER LISTENS TO ANYTHING ELSE.”

“Well, I got you a present, too.” You said and Edge’s brow shot up in surprise. “I know I’m kind of late getting it to you, and I don’t know you very well, but I got you some dvds that I thought you might like. I know tonight might not work, but would you want to watch one of them together tomorrow?”

Edge’s jaw opened and closed a few times. You had obviously caught him off guard, getting him a present. “THERE’S NO POINT IN WATCHING A DISK,” he said irritably, turning away to hide the dusting of black on his nasal ridge. “WITHOUT ALSO HAVING A DVD PLAYER TO WATCH IT WITH.”

“But you guys have a tv! I thought for sure…”

“THAT IS BECAUSE IT’S REQUIRED.” Edge sighed. “EVERY HOME MUST HAVE ONE FOR THAT MORONIC ROBOT’S PROPAGANDA. I’M NOT WATCHING SOMETHING SO ANNOYING.”

“But if I got a dvd player, you would watch movies with me?” you asked, perking up.

“MAYBE. DON’T PESTER ME ABOUT IT AND I’LL CONSIDER IT.” Edge growled, stuffed his hands in his pockets, and strode out of the kitchen.

“Edge, wait!” You jumped off the counter and chased after him. He stopped reluctantly in the hall, glaring over his shoulder at you. “I want to make this official.”

“WHAT ARE YOU TALKING ABOUT?” He snapped, turning just enough so that his back wasn’t presented to you.

“I want this,” you motioned between the two of you, “this chance, to be official. So if you mean it, and we’re both going to try and open up to each other, I want you to shake on it.”

“....SHAKE ON IT.” Edge repeated flatly, looking at your presented hand.

“Unless you’d rather hug?”

The corner of Edge’s teeth lifted up in disgust. “FINE, YOU PESTERING LITTLE-”

He cut off the words, growling as he grabbed your offered hand, and gave it one quick shake before he dropped it.

“Hey, Edge?” you stepped forward, hoping that you weren’t pushing him too far as you watched him bristle.

“WHAT!?” He snapped, rounding on you with the light gone from his sockets.

“Um… have a good day at work.”

You left him standing there in the hall, a befuddled look on his skull, and returned to the kitchen for your cup of coffee.

~~~

You dropped your backpack, full to bursting, next to your bed and collapsed on top of the sheets. The only nice thing about today had been waking up next to Axe. The rest of the day had been a veritable academic hell. Not only were your classes doing graded pop quizzes, to prepare you for your midterms, but your workload had doubled. It didn’t matter that it was Friday; you knew you would be studying well into the night and probably for all of Saturday, too.

Groaning, you rolled onto your side and dug through your backpack. At least Fridays were half days, at least you were home where you could study in peace. If you studied hard past dinner, you could try to get a nap in before pulling an all-nighter.

You pulled your calculus book out and stared at it, hating the thought that you would have to work on it alone. You had made lattes this morning, just like yesterday. But, just like yesterday, Milord never showed up. It was hard to accept, and your heart twinged with loneliness, but it was obvious that he had other things to do than deal with you. You couldn’t make him speak to you.

If anything, you would speak to Mutt tomorrow and see if he had better luck with his brother than you.

With a heavy sigh, you cracked open your math homework and tried your hardest to remember all the things Milord had taught you. You could almost hear his cold voice in your ear, pointing out how to solve the equations with simple terms. You closed your eyes, trying to listen to that memory, to understand what you were supposed to do, but then that memory changed.

He was pulling you close, his purple lights hazy as he leaned in, his gloved hands holding you at the small of your back as your heart raced…

You pressed the palms of your hands to your eyes as they burned. You liked him. Son of a bitch, you  _ liked him _ and he wanted nothing to do with you! You kicked your calculus book off of your bed, wanting nothing to do with it since all it did was make you think of him.

Sniffing loudly, wiping your running nose on the back of your black sweater dress, you got up to get your calculus book off the floor. Just because you didn’t want to do it, doesn’t mean you didn’t have to. You needed to pass this class to graduate.

Later. You could do calculus later. Right now you wanted something else. Monster studies would be good. You had all that research to do on changing a law, but you had hardly any luck there, either. All the legal jargon of human law made hardly any sense to you. 

Bitterly, you realized Milord could’ve helped you with that, too. You set your law books aside with calculus and picked up psychology. At least you could understand that.

Or you thought you did, anyways. Maybe it was the stress you were under, or the lack of sleep from last night, or the overwhelming amount of work you had and the pressure to not fail, but you couldn’t get through your work like you normally did. You grabbed your books and threw them against the wall, frustrated with yourself, and held your head in your hands.

“FUCK!” You shouted, running your fingers through your hair as you looked at the mountain of work yet to do. All you needed was a break, a nap, and you would go back to it, you would be fine…

Someone knocked on the floor and you looked over. Red was standing on the stairs, headphones around his neck, and a bony brow raised at you. “yeh doin’ okay, Dollface? it ain’t like yeh teh throw things.”

“No.” you admitted and wiped at your face again. “I’m tired and frustrated. Half of my homework I don’t understand and there’s no one to help me.”

“what’cha got?” Red asked, crossing the room to sit on the edge of your bed, uninvited. You picked up books and showed him your subjects. Psychology and law, calculus and more psychology. Red laid back on your bed and shrugged. “if yeh don’t get it, there ain’t no way in hell I’m gonna.”

“I just need a break.” You sighed and laid back next to Red, reconsidering your decision to pull an all-nigher. You needed sleep to function, as your current attitude clearly showed. “Do you want to listen to some music with me?”

“yeh read my mind.” Red’s crimson lights flickered in his way of a wink.

You unlocked your phone and handed it over to Red. You already knew all of the songs on your playlists, this was for him to discover something new. You closed your eyes and waited for him to pick something.

The silence stretched on and you cracked an eye open, wondering if he was having a hard time making a choice, but then you saw that he wasn’t even in your music folder. He was in the photo album.

“Red…” you purred dangerously, rolling over and running a finger up his arm. “What are you looking for?”

“nuthin’.” Red fumbled your phone, a crimson flush across his nasal ridge, and dropped it to the floor with a clatter.

“Oh really? Cuz it looked to me like you were trying to find those x-rays.” You narrowed your eyes at him as he dove off the bed to grab your phone.

“I wasn’ lookin’ fer shit!” Red growled, the flush spreading over his skull as he sat back on the bed.

“Good. Because I deleted those pictures a long time ago.” You smirked, feeling mischievous, as Red grumbled under his breath and returned to your music folder. “Who knew you were so determined to see me naked, anyway?”

“am not!” Red snapped and focused his entire attention on your phone. So much so that he didn’t notice you sneak up behind him. He stiffened as you wrapped your arms around his shoulders.

“You know, now that you’re teaching me Font,” you whispered to the side of his hot skull, “I’m getting a lot better at being able to tell when you’re lying to me.”

That, and he tended to give himself away with his body language. But what you said wasn’t a total lie. You were spending more time with him and you were getting better at being able to spot his anxious ticks, so his nervous side glance at you told you that he could tell you weren’t lying.

“And since you’re so big on paying people back for what they do,” you smirked, enjoying your game immensely, “you’re gonna take a nap with me if you want to listen to my music.”

“yeh owe me still fer helpin’ yeh with Edge.” Red growled, a smirk tugging at his sharp teeth.

“I already know what I’m going to do for that.” You said, patting the sheets next to you. Red crawled up the bed and sat beside you, phone in hand as he swiped through your playlists. “Have you ever heard of Valentine’s day?”

“no.”

“It’s a chocolate holiday.” You whispered, putting your hand over your phone so that Red would look you in the eye. “And every year, the day after the holiday, all of that chocolate goes on sale. I’m gonna buy so much for us to eat we’ll be puking chocolate into next week.”

“...that’s gotta be a lot of chocolate, Dollface.” Red said, smirking, as he leaned against the wall and you cuddled up next to him, one arm draped over his waist. “skeletons don’ exactly puke easy.”

“I’ll bring extra bags, then.” you yawned and nestled your head into Red’s black hoodie. It smelled like grilling charcoal and it reminded you of cookouts with your dad. “Can you use your headphones, Red? I just want to nap. Will you wake me up in a couple of hours?”

“yeah, alright.” Red used the untied sneaker on his foot to fish the sheets up from the end of the bed. He pulled his headphones over his flushed skull and plugged them into your phone. One of his hands searched for music, and the other he let gently rest over your side as you fell asleep.

~~~

Some time later, you had no idea how much, but you cracked your eyes open to a darkening room. The sun was setting outside, but Red was so focused on your phone that he was oblivious to the rest of the world.

You laid there, strangely content with his company, and watched what he was listening to. He had found some kind of music video on the web and, as you watched him watch it, you could feel his fingers tapping against you as the guitar player on screen did his solo. A big, goofy grin sat on his skull and his crimson lights shined as he watched the human on screen play.

As you woke up a little more, trying your hardest not to move so that Red didn’t see you, you wondered. Red didn’t have much in his room, and he clearly loved music, so maybe… but only if you could find one cheap enough. And he would have to promise not to destroy it.

It would be a better gift than a night of drinking.

“Red, why didn’t you wake me?” you yawned, feigning that you had just gotten up. Red’s hand quickly slipped off your waist and he pulled the headphones off his skull. You repeated your question to him.

“eh, lost track of time?” he offered sheepishly, shrugging. “an’ I really like this band, Dollface. pick me up some of their stuff, won’t you?”

You leaned over Red’s shoulder to look at the video information. “‘Asking Alexandria’, huh? Sure. Do you want just cds, or posters too?”

“They have posters?” Red’s crimson lights widened.

“Of course. So does Avenged Sevenfold. Do you want some of those, too?”

Red gave you a rare smile, then it fell and he narrowed his lights. “what do yeh want fer it?”

“Nothing.” you yawned again and stretched, trying to wake yourself up enough to study. “But if you really want to give me something, I’ll let you decide. Payment upon delivery, does that sound good?”

“‘s fine with me.” Red nodded and swung his untied sneakers off the bed while you grabbed your books.

“You can stay, if you want.” you offered as he reluctantly got to his feet. He turned around, his lights wide in surprise. “Really, it’s okay. I’d like the company, but I’ll ask that you keep wearing the headphones while I study.”

Red grinned broadly, his golden fang flashing, and flopped back onto the bed. “yer the best, Dollface.”

“Don’t I know it?” You fluttered your lashes in mock arrogance, then turned to your books. Now that you were rested up, you were ready to deal with whatever school had to throw at you. As you looked down over your first paper regarding nature versus nurture, you cracked your knuckles, ready to fight this project until the end.

As you picked up your pencil, you noticed that Red had gone still in the corner of your vision and was starting, with wide lights, at your hands. “What?”

“how... did yeh do that?” he asked, then stared at his own hands.

“Crack my knuckles? Easy. Give me your hand.” You held out your hand, waiting for Red to give you his, and when he did, you showed him how to press against his knuckles with just enough pressure and then- crack!

Red shivered, a red flush filling his nasal ridge as you felt him melt under your touch. Without a word, he held out his other hand to you and you did the same thing. This time, when you cracked his knuckles, he actually leaned against you and nuzzled your cheek, his lights hazy and his skull warm.

“Um, did I do something good?” you asked as Red wrapped his arms around you and fell limply into your lap.

“...I didn’ know yeh could do that.” Red mumbled into the sheets. “‘s like… I dunno how teh say it. real good.”

You looked at Red, who was practically a puddle in your lap, and giggled. Pink in the face, you said, “I didn’t think I’d ever see you so relaxed. Imagine what would happen if I cracked your back.”

“yeh can do that?” Red perked right up, his crimson lights shining.

“Maybe later.” You grinned and ran your fingers over the top of Red’s skull. “I can’t just pop your spine like I do fingers, I’d have to work it first so I don’t hurt you. Some other time.”

Red rolled over so that he could stare up at you while his head rested in your lap. He watched you work on your studies, his lights slightly hazy, and growled softly, “I don’ like that I’m owin’ yeh so much, Dollface.”

“You don’t owe me anything.” You said and flipped through one of your books for reference. “I pay you back for things because you want it, but I could care less if you give me things. I just let you do it because it means a lot to you.”

“...that so?” Red grumbled, his crimson lights watching you as you focused on your paper. After a long while, he added, “I don’ get yeh. why do yeh give so much if yeh want nothing back?”

“I do want something back.” you said, only half paying attention to your words as you rubbed away your answer with your eraser. You flipped your pencil back around to fill in the line with better wording. “If we’re talking about you, I just want you to like me and spend time with me. If I get that, then I don’t want things. Things can’t love, only people can.”

Red’s lights widened and his hand came up to pick at the white fluff on his black hoodie. “yeh want somethin’ like that… from me?”

“Things don’t mean anything to me.” you said, holding a book in one hand as you copied down a definition. “I don’t want them. I want people.”

Red’s fingers pulled white fluff out of his hoodie and it floated off to the side to mingle with your eraser shavings. “so... then why ‘r yeh given us shit?”

“Because people like presents.” you mumbled, flicking through another book to cross reference yourself. “If you guys have stuff you like, I want to give it to you to make you happy.”

“well… what do yeh like?” Red fidgeted with his hoodie, his crimson lights staring up at you. “yeh never talk about shit yeh want.”

“I don’t know.” you sighed and pinched the bridge of your nose. “The things I want aren’t so easily given. I want my plants to grow. I want you guys to feel safe and loved. I want to graduate. Why are you asking, anyway?”

“no reason.” Red shrugged and sat up. “but if we did get yeh somethin’, what would yeh want?”

“Love.” you said easily, reaching over the side of your bed to find another book. “That’s all I’ve ever wanted.”

Red stared off at the far wall, his face hidden from you, and you sat back up with your found book in hand.

“Red? Are you okay?” you asked and set a questioning hand on his shoulder.

“‘m fine.” Red shrugged, his rough voice quiet.

You took your hand back and squeezed your book, feeling guilty for some reason. “Um, if you want, there’s something else you might be able to help me with.”

“‘s that?” Red asked, turning his skull slightly to listen.

“Yesterday, I was helping Axe out after he and Edge got into a fight.” You said, trying to recall exactly what Butch had said to you. “I was up here, with him and Butch, and I was humming. Butch said he could feel it in his soul so I wanted to know… is singing like speaking Font? Could they feel my intent? I’m not sure, since you listen to music all the time, but if anyone would know I knew it would be you so-”

Red turned around and silenced your rambling with a look. “th’ stuff I listen to ain’t nothin’ like what yeh get in person. recordings ain’t got no soul, but they can pick up intent. if it matches yeh well enough, yeh feel good listenin’ to it.”

“So, what does singing do?” you asked, wondering the meaning behind the look Red was giving you. It was like he was examining you, or judging you.

“I’d have teh hear it.” Red shrugged and turned, cross legged, to face you. “yeh humans all got different types a’ souls. yers ain’t gonna have the same resonance as yer dad, fer example.”

“What do you mean by ‘resonance’?” You asked. Red waved the question away.

“let me hear yeh first, then I’ll explain it better.”

You stared at your book, pink in the face. “It’s kind of hard to sing when you’re staring at me…”

“I ain’t gonna make fun of yeh.” Red rolled his crimson lights and crossed his arms. “just do it so I can figure it out and explain.”

“You’ll tell me if it hurts you, right?” you asked nervously. Red nodded and you stared at the bed, steeling your nerves. Then you shut your eyes and took a deep breath, the words filling you, the intent, like you never had happen when you spoke font.

_ “And the heart is hard to translate _

_ It has a language of its own _

_ It talks in tongues and quiet sighs _

_ In prayers and proclamations in the grand days _

_ Of great men and the smallest of gestures _

_ In short shallow gasps _

_ But with all my education _

_ I can’t seem to command it _

_ And the words are all escaping me _

_ And coming back all damaged _

_ And I would put them back in poetry _

_ If I only knew how, I can’t seem to understand it” _

As you sang your voice gained strength. It didn’t matter that Red was listening to you, or that you were nervous. You felt something, a heat in your chest, and that gave you confidence and you wanted to let it out.

_ “And it talks to me in tiptoes _

_ And it sings to me inside _

_ It cries out in the darkest night _

_ And breaks in the morning light” _

Red was leaning forward on the bed, his sockets closed as he listened, a smile on his face. His hand touched your knee and he looked so happy in that moment that you wanted to go on.

_ “No, words are a language _

_ It doesn’t deserve such treatment _

_ And all of my stumbling phrases _

_ Never amounted to anything worth this feeling _

_ All this heaven could never describe _

_ Such a feeling as I’m healing, words were never so useful _

_ So I was screaming out a language _

_ That I never knew existed before.” _

The last note faded and you watched Red nervously, waiting for his sockets to open and for him to say something to you. 

When he did finally open his sockets, you could see his lights were hazy as they looked at you. “no wonder they ban music in th’ Underground that ain’t made by a robot.”

“What do you mean?” you asked, watching as Red crawled up on the bed. He took you in his arms and flopped down to the side, nuzzling the top of your head. “Red, are you okay?”

“better than okay.” Red growled softly. “yer Kindness, ain’t cha? yeh were projectin’ that an’ yer intent. all yeh want is fer us to feel safe and loved, right?”

“Yeah…” You looked at Red as he buried his face in your neck and breathed deeply. You felt your face heat up as he sighed against your skin and his arms wrapped around your chest. Maybe this singing thing should only be used in emergencies, if it could turn someone as ornery as Red into… this.

“well, if yeh could speak Font half as well as yeh do reachin’ out with yer soul like that…” Red ran his fingers through your hair and you looked over at him, wondering if you should find some ice water.

“But why are you so… cuddly?” you asked nervously, hoping that your question wouldn’t provoke an outburst of anger.

“cuz yeh made me feel happy, Dollface.” Red growled softly and held you to him tightly as he nuzzled your neck. “I ain’t exactly got a lot of happy memories, so let me have this. I never knew I needed this so bad until yeh gave it to me.”

You turned in Red’s arms, a pang of empathy squeezing at your heart. “Oh, Red... what happened to you?”

“don’ ruin th’ moment.” Red growled irritably, his bony fingers digging into your sides.

You nodded and rested your head against his rib cage, letting Red have his moment, and thought. The only other experience you had that was close to this was Pap’s magic. It had made you feel so happy, but it didn’t let you remember anything else, either. Red could clearly remember the bad things, and Axe and Butch had been okay after your humming, so was this… more like a balm for their soul? It might not be permanent, but in the moment, it could protect them from whatever negative emotions they were having?

Is that why Edge was able to speak to you without getting so angry? He had heard you singing in the kitchen and was able to act above his anger for a while? No, that couldn’t be it, he was still pretty irritable with you, so maybe he wasn’t there for the whole song?

Either way, you thought as you ran your fingers over Red’s skull, you would have to be careful with this. You wouldn’t sing out loud unless the need was dire. Maybe you would hum upon request, that seemed okay, but no singing. You had hated what magic did to you against your will, you wouldn’t do the same to them.

“Red, I’m sorry.” you whispered to the side of his skull. “I hope when you come out of this, you’re not angry with me.”

“I’ll be angry if yeh don’ shut up.” Red snapped and nipped at your neck, his grip on you tightening. You froze and decided not to say anything more for the moment.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Songs used:
> 
> Cosmic Love by Florence & the Machine  
> Somebody to Love by Jefferson Airplane  
> All This and Heaven Too by Florence & the Machine


	17. Ch 17 - Fire and Ice

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Heheheh, I hope this roller coaster of a chapter doesn't throw you all off...  
> At least it's finally happened.  
> And, for once, there is a clear explanation from him.
> 
> ....
> 
> Stay healthy and safe, lovelies <3

Ch 17 - Fire and Ice

“Hey, Red?” you shifted on your bed as darkness filled your room and you watched the stars fill the clear, winter sky.

“Hn?” Red growled softly into your neck. It had been almost half an hour since you sang for him and he was still clinging to you. It was just like the night you brought him up to bed drunk, but this time he was wide awake and he still wouldn’t let you go. And this time you knew it wasn’t likely that he would release you if you licked him across the face.

“Um, can you tell me about resonance?” You asked quietly, turning your head to look at the side of his skull. His sockets cracked open and you could see his crimson eye lights burning in the dark like tiny flames. “You said you would, after I sang for you and… I want to know more about what that song did to you.”

If he was under some kind of influence from your soul, asking about something he already promised to tell you wouldn’t upset him later, right?

“‘s like Font, but it ain’t.” Red rough voice mumbled, his grip on you relaxing ever so slightly as he let his skull fall back onto your sheets. “Font is speakin’ with intent. singin’ is letting yer intent speak. yeh use yer soul teh make both, and yeh listen the same way, but it’s different.”

“Then why did it make you so…” you hesitated to point out your situation and instead said, “happy?”

Red let your question hang in the air. His thumb drifted idly over your arm, scrunching the black fabric of your sleeve. After a long silence, he mumbled quietly, “cuz that’s one ‘a th’ things I want most.”

You watched Red start to get up and took his hand before he could leave you and withdraw back into himself. He told you once before that he didn’t want to be alone. The way his crimson lights darted towards the contact and turned into haze only confirmed your thoughts. What he wanted most was love. So… “Why don’t you let yourself have it?”

Red tried to pull his hand away, but you held fast and didn’t his bony fingers slip through yours. He eyed the contact again, chuckled bitterly, and said, “cuz th’ things I try teh keep close I always end up breakin’. jus’ lookit my room.” Quietly, very quietly, he added, “jus’ lookit Edge.”

You could feel your heart twist as he whispered his brother’s name and felt the pain in his voice, but you didn’t understand why. From what you saw, he tried to look out for his brother. Sure, they fought, but Red also was the only one in the house who seemed to tolerate him the most. You only knew three things about Edge, and one of them was still very vague, so maybe one of the other two things had to be it.

“Does this… have to do with why Edge’s color changed?” you asked gently, trying to feel and channel the intent in your soul that would tell Red that you didn’t mean this in any kind of bad light; that you asked because you wanted to help and to understand. “Or why you sent him to join the Royal Guard?”

Red froze, his crimson lights wide, and you felt his hand shake slightly in yours. “how... how do yeh know…?”

“Edge told me.” You said and gave his hand a comforting squeeze. Granted, Edge more so let slip to you the fact that his magic changed color, out of his concern for Butch, but that didn’t change the fact he said it in front of you.

“no way.” Red shook his skull, frowning in disbelief, but slowly stopped as he stared you down and heard the truth in your words. “no fuckin’ way. Edge don’ open up to anyone.  _ anyone. _ not even me! how the flyin’ fuck did yeh get him to…?”

“It just happened.” You shrugged, adding sheepishly, “and I… maybe gave him a piece of my mind about how he treats his brothers. I think he finally listened to that and maybe respects me for it. At least enough to answer a question of mine.”

“listen teh me, Dollface,” Red grabbed your other hand and pulled you closer to him so that your vision was filled with his soft, crimson lights. “I ain’t got nuthin’ worth the price I’d have teh pay, askin’ fer this, but jus’ hear me out. I can’ tell yeh about what happened teh Edge. I don’ even know it all myself, just th’ first few pieces, but there was this human girl that use teh live with us back in th’ Underground. I was… I was out, most of th’ time, but one day I came back ‘n she was gone ‘n he was… black. ‘n angry. I ain’t a supportive, feelin’ kinda guy. fuck, I ain’t even sure what teh do with myself!

but... he needed me. he needed me an’ I didn’ know how teh be there for him an’ now he’s jus’ gettin’ worse n’ worse n’ th’ others don’ understand...” Red’s rough voice wavered, like the rocks in his voice were underwater, “I dunno how teh help him. I never knew how. everythin’ I did seemed teh fuck him up more, ‘n I…”

You could feel Red’s hands start to shake in yours. Just watching him in the darkness, his frame illuminated by the waning crescent moon, you could see him struggle with himself inside. Crimson plasma started to bubble up from the joints in his fingers and his pointed teeth twisted in a painful grimace as his grip tightened painfully on your hands. You pulled him into you, seeing the rage rising up to cover up his hurt, and squeezed him tightly.

“You tried, Red.” you whispered to the side of his skull, trying your best not to breathe the smell of smoke as it filled the air. Fear bubbled up in your guts as the fire memory tried to surface, but you clung to Red to anchor yourself as much as him in this moment. “You tried your best and did what you could, don’t blame yourself for what happened. You’re still trying, aren’t you?”

You could feel Red’s ribs moving beneath his black hoodie as he tried to calm himself, but only ended up hyperventilating instead. The crimson plasma of his magic flowed out onto the bed like smoke and glowed like fire as it spilled onto the floor. You closed your eyes, thought of your lullaby, and began to hum; desperately trying to calm him before he lost control of his temper and you ran out of air. Red’s hands clawed at your back, ripping through the fabric of your sweater. You winced from the pain as he tore through the skin, but you didn’t stop the muffled song.

Slowly, his sharp fingers stopped digging into you and his breathing evened out. His arms fell to your sides as he held you loosely and he rested his skull against your shoulder. The room around you slowly returned to darkness as the magic faded.

“if…” Red eventually mumbled into your hair, and you stopped humming to hear him, “if we had someone like you, back then, maybe… maybe Edge would be better. he wouldn’ have turned into me.”

“You’re not a bad person, Red.”

“yeah, I am.” Red said sadly, pulling away from you and looking at your blood on the tips of his bony fingers. “I know I am. I break everythin’ I touch.”

“I think the important thing you’re not seeing here,” you said and took his hands in yours, covering the crimson stain with your fingers, “is that you stopped yourself. That’s a good thing. If you really were a bad person, you wouldn’t have let me calm you down.”

Red chuckled bitterly and hung his head in shame, refusing to meet your gaze.

“So, what’s that thing you wanted to ask me?” you smiled and squeezed his hands, your grip slipping slightly from the slickness on his fingers.

“...don’ give up on him.” Red mumbled towards the sheets. “I don’ deserve teh ask that of yeh, but… please. I think yer the only one who can reach him anymore. I sure as hell can’t.”

You smiled softly at that one word: please. He had never said that before, never truly asked you for something in a way that made him vulnerable. You hummed thoughtfully, trying to think of the best way to help Red, too. “You’re right, that has a big price.”

Red’s skull snapped up, his crimson lights on you.

“I’ll need two things from you.” you smirked, glad you had his attention.

“...anything.” Red sat up a bit straighter. “yeh promise teh do everythin’ yeh can fer Edge ‘n I’ll get yeh whatever yeh want. you name it, Dollface. I’ll bring yeh a Queen’s soul if that’s what yeh ask for.”

“I already told you part of my price.” You smiled at the confused look on Red’s skull. “First part is, I want to help you too. So that means if you need someone, I want you to come to me. You aren’t alone, Red.”

Red shifted uncomfortably, no doubt thinking about having to talk something out instead of just letting his temper run free. “‘n the other?”

“Love.” you said simply and Red’s lights widened in shock. “I told you before, that’s the only thing I want that you can give me, but I’ll only take it if that’s what you want to give. So if you can keep opening up a little bit at a time to me and let me give you some affection every now and then, you have a deal.”

“but... yer scared of me.” Red tilted his skull in bewilderment, his lights narrowed at you.

“No, I’m not.”

“yeah, yeh are. I gotta bribe yeh teh hang around me.”

“You do not, I told you already that I like hanging out with you. You’re the one that insists on payments and being even.”

“then how come I hear yer fear when I get pissed?”

“That’s because of your magic.” 

“right. yer scared of my magic, yer scared of me.”

“I’m not scared of your magic, Red, I’m bothered by the smell!” you rolled your eyes and sighed. Why was he so difficult? “Are you seriously telling me you haven’t figured this out yet? My burn scars, my avoidance of the smell of smoke, it’s because I’m scared of fire! Not you! You’re not fire, you’re more like… a cuddly cactus or something.”

Red’s pointed teeth opened and closed like a surprised moray eel, unable to think of what to say. You almost laughed. He seriously had not figured out your fear of fire and you could tell that this information blew his mind.

“And if that doesn’t convince you, consider this,” you smirked, throwing down your trump card, “you’re the first person I ever slept next to in this house. How can I be afraid of you if I can do that?”

Red’s eye lights widened and his jaw snapped shut, stunned. His lights lowered to the sheets, darting back and forth as he searched his memory. It took him quite some time, he had been pretty drunk that night, but you knew he found it by the crimson flush rising on his nasal ridge.

“...shut up, smartass.” Red growled and crossed his arms, the color on his skull deepening as you giggled at him. He might be a firecracker with his temper, but he was also very endearing when he got all uncomfortable around affection. You knew he needed it, he just didn’t know how to take it.

“If you want to start paying me back,” you purred, unable to resist teasing him just a little bit to cheer him up, “you could start by keeping me company while I study, then have a sleepover with me.”

Red’s lights darted around the room, then back at you. “...yeh only got one bed.”

You rolled your eyes. “No shit, Sherlock. That’s the point.”

His gaze finally came up to meet yours. Those lights softened as you smiled, and you felt that he finally accepted that you meant what you said. “so… yeh really want that from someone like me, huh?”

“I don’t say things I don’t mean.”

“...do yeh trust me?” he asked, his hand brushing over yours and coming to rest on your forearm.

“As long as you try, I see no reason not to.” you watched him move closer, his lights shining. “And you already do that. You help me out, you’re teaching me Font, and you go out of your way to not use your magic around me.”

“yeh don’ like the smell of my magic, right?” Red growled, his sharp teeth turning up into a smirk, “how about th’ taste?”

“Um, I’m not sure.” you fell back onto your elbows, pink in the face, as Red leaned over you, his smirk turning into a grin. His crimson tongue darted out to lick at his golden fang while his hazy lights looked you over as you laid beneath him.

“guess I’ll jus’ have teh be gentle, at first.” Red’s hand scooped you up by the back of your head and brought you into him, pressing your lips to his sharp teeth. You shivered as he lowered his body onto you, his hot tongue licking at your lower lip as his other hand trailed down your side.

Before you opened your mouth, you felt a small spike of fear. What if you tasted smoke? Red paused, feeling your hesitation, or maybe hearing your fear, and he waited until you brought a hand up to the side of his skull to guide him. He let you lick him, just the smallest of tastes, and tilted his skull slightly as he awaited your judgement.

He was smokey, but not like from a campfire or like your memory of your burning house. It was more like… mesquite. Like that flavor you got when you cooked over charcoal for a long time, but slightly sweet. You tried again, letting your tongue drift like a feather across his, trying to make sure of your thoughts. Red groaned and his hand tightened on your side. He was still waiting for you to show him it was okay for him to kiss you. Rather than be annoyed by it, he seemed to be enjoying the tease, the tension, the waiting…

Instead of meeting him for a kiss, you tilted your head to the side and ran your tongue along his jawline, stopping right where your soft spot would be on your neck to suck at his vertebrae. Red shivered beneath you and pushed you up further on the bed, his hand drifting up your dress and over your bare stomach.

He tried to turn to kiss you and you used your hand to turn him away. You gently bit at his neck vertebrae. Not enough to mark him, but enough that he inhaled sharply and the hand he was holding your head up with pulled at your hair. The other hand drifted down your stomach and hovered over your building want before trailing down your thighs, squeezing as it traveled.

“careful, Dollface,” he purred, parting your legs so that he could rest his body between them, “I ain’t gonna play nice fer yeh much longer.”

You smirked and ran a hand up his red turtleneck, feeling his bare ribs beneath your fingers. They moved ever so slightly with his breath, somehow expanding and contracting despite being solid bone. You felt his breath quicken as you explored the small nicks and dents in his ribs, like old scars, with your fingertips. Red tried to nip at your neck, unsuccessfully, as you ran your hand along the entirety of the cage. You watched him from the corner of your eye as he watched your neck, waiting for another chance to bite at you. “What if I told you to wait?”

“I’d tell yeh teh make me.” Red growled and grabbed your hands, pinning them above your head. He grinned and hovered over your face, his breath hot as he kept his teeth just the barest hint from your lips. “‘n how’re yeh gonna do that like this?”

You quirked your eyebrow at him, thinking quickly. Pulling one of your feet up and propping it under your hips, you launched half of your body and forced Red to roll onto his back. Though your hands were still held by his, you crossed your arms so you could grab his wrists and pinned  _ him _ to the bed. You smiled triumphantly down on him, at his look of shock.

“Like  _ that.” _ You stuck your tongue out at him and sat on his legs, giving him a playful glare as a dare to retaliate.

Red’s look of surprise broke into a broad, mischievous smile. His lights softened into a fog-like haze as his crimson tongue darted out to lick at the points of his teeth. “yeh know, Dollface, yer the first teh ever get me on my back. ‘n I  _ really like it. _ ”

He easily broke your grip on his wrists and roughly pulled you into an embrace. This time, you let his kiss happen without fighting it and relished the heat in your mouth, the taste of mesquite burning your tongue as he pulled you onto his hips. He wrapped your legs around him, pulling at your thighs so you could feel his hardened member rubbing against you through his shorts; though your stockings. A small moan escaped you as heat started to build in your stomach, getting you wet as he grinded you against him. Red shuddered at your noise and his breathing turned heavy with anticipation. One hand started to pull your stockings down, the other coming up as he scratched his fingers across your back…

You cried out in pain, jerking away as his sharp fingertips caught the wounds from earlier and tore them further. Red froze, horrified, as you rolled off to the side and tried to grab at the trails of blood soaking your black sweater dress and leaving spots on the sheets.

“I-I didn’ mean-!” he stuttered, reaching out towards you as you sat up, but afraid to touch you as he spotted the blood, old and new, still on his fingers.

“It’s okay,” you winced, feeling the gashes in your back. You quickly snatched at his wrist as he tried to get up and run away from you. “No, really, it’s okay, Red. It’s not bad.”

“I fuckin’ told yeh this would happen!” Red growled and tried to pull away. But you held on tight and he only succeeded in pulling you onto your belly. “I knew it, I should’a jus’ left yeh th’ fuck alone an-”

“RED!” You shouted, grabbing his attention and quieting him before he could work himself up any more. “I’m fine. Let’s just remember that next time we do this I should make sure I don’t have any injuries.”

Red’s lights flickered at you as he stilled. “...next time?”

You nodded and let go of his wrist. “Why don’t we just, for tonight, stick to the original plan? Let’s just hang out and have a sleepover.”

“....yer serious?” he growled in disbelief, his free hand running over the top of his skull. “after I jus’ fucked up like this, yer gonna-”

“You didn’t mean to hurt me, for either of the times, so I don’t blame you.” You sat up and felt at your back, wincing again as you felt one of the open wounds. The placement, and the pain, reminded you a lot of the bruises Edge gave you when you spent your first night. “If you want to make it up to me, you could go get me a small snack for these cuts. Monster food heals human wounds.” you added, seeing the confused look on Red’s skull.

“um... yeah, alright.” Red mumbled, looking dazed, and turned towards the narrow staircase. You grabbed the back of his black hoodie, stopping him again.

“Wait just a second,” you said and climbed off the bed. He stilled as you took one of his hands in yours and started scrubbing at his fingers with the hem of your sweater dress. At his bewildered look, you explained, “I don’t want your brothers to smell my blood on you. They’ll be upset if they do, and I don’t want that.”

Red’s lights shrank to pinpoints and he stuck his other hand in his mouth. “fair poin’, Dofface.” he pulled his clean fingerbones free, adding, “pretty sure my bros would flip their shit if they smelled that an’ th’ beginnin’ of my, uh, claim.”

You looked up, confused at the slight hint of disgust in Red’s rough voice, then realization drained all the color from your face. Red thought that they would think he had forced himself on you. “You know what, maybe you should just stay up here and I’ll go down.”

“hell no! they see yeh like this an’ they’ll dust me fer sure!”

“I can explain, I’m sure they’ll listen to me-”

“no!” Red growled and vanished, leaving behind a sudden plume of smoky scent that had you backpedaling into the bed.

You sank onto the mattress, holding your nose shut, as the waves of panic shook you. Every nerve was screaming from the unexpected exposure to your fear, to smoke and the threat of fire. As you took deep breaths through your mouth, you tried to fight it. That was Red, not fire. He wouldn’t hurt you on purpose, he couldn’t burn you. The pain on your back was lying. It wasn’t the beam from your burning house, it was just an accident.

Your eyes were burning with unfallen tears from your struggle as a black blur appeared in the corner of your vision. You looked up and saw Red, a box of Temmie Flakes cereal in his hands, looking horrified to find you like this.

“son of a fuckin’-” He growled angrily and nearly threw the box at the wall, thought better of it, and threw it at the bed. It bounced once, high into the air, and broke open as it hit the floor.

You jumped up and ran at him, tackling him to the ground, and buried your face in his hoodie. He stiffened in surprise and you told him plainly with your shaking voice, “I need comfort. Hold me.” 

Red hesitated, then wrapped his arms around you and held you as you laid on him. He smacked his skull against the wooden floor with a dull thunk and grumbled under his breath, cursing at himself.

“I ain’t gonna lie,” he growled softly as you calmed down, “I really… like yeh. but yer as fragile as a china doll an’ I don’t wanna end up breakin’ yeh. so if yeh still want me close… yer gonna have teh tell me what teh do, ‘er I’m jus’ gonna keep fuckin’ up.”

“Let’s just start with tonight,” you mumbled into his hoodie, holding him tight, “and we’ll go from there.”

~~~

The alarm buzzed on your phone and you smacked at it irritably, already feeling grumpy from only having four hours of sleep. Beside you, still asleep, Red’s grip on your waist tightened and he pulled you back into him. You yawned and scratched at the sleep in the corners of your eyes, watching him breathe deeply as you woke up. You smiled softly. Despite Red’s insistence that it wouldn’t, the rest of the night went well. 

Sure, he had been reluctant to be close to you after you healed your injuries, but you understood that he was afraid he would hurt you again. Both of you barely talked, he listened to music and you became absorbed in your studies, but there was an unspoken understanding between you that slowly got to him. By three in the morning, he was leaning hard against you, trying his best to stay awake and keep you company, until you finally noticed how foggy his lights were and forced him to go to bed first.

Now, even as you gently extracted yourself from his arms, he smiled in his sleep and let you go. Maybe he would never admit it out loud, but you wondered if something finally got through to him that you weren’t going to push him away. The fact that you didn’t have to lick him to get him to release you gave you the feeling that he knew you would come back.

As you got out of bed and scratched at your grey sweatshirt, your eyes found the scattered, white cereal flakes across the floor beneath the window. You carefully avoided them, thinking to get a broom to clean it before ants found the sugary crisps, and nearly tripped over your black sweater dress. 

You thought last night, after you healed your wounds and changed, that you could wash it and maybe repair it. But as you picked it up and reexamined it in the light of dawn, your hand easily slipping through the tears in the material, you realized it would probably be better to just throw it away. That wasn’t a great thought; you didn’t have a lot of clothes.

With a glance at Red, still asleep, you dropped the black dress and headed for the stairs. Maybe it was time you went to the mall. You had a dresser now, a proper place to put things, and a home to live at. It was okay to have more things, you didn’t bounce from place to place anymore.

You smiled at the warm feeling in your chest. This was home. Despite the ups and downs, you were loved here.

As you walked down the hall towards the kitchen, you looked up at the bare, tan walls of the entryway and wondered. You had to double check your savings, recheck your budget if you were still trying to save up for a car, but you wanted to get something for the house. It wasn’t fair to get something for Red and not get something for the others.

“GOOD MORNING, HONEY!” Pap said cheerfully as you walked into the kitchen. The smell of espresso filled the space and you felt your shoulders sag with relief as he handed you a steaming mug.

“You’re the greatest, Pap.” you sighed, beaming at him. He glowed with pride as you sipped from the mug and complimented his latte attempt. “You didn’t have to get up so early for me, though I really appreciate this.”

“WELL, YOU’RE WORKING HARD ON YOUR STUDIES.” Pap shrugged and pulled out a chair for you before he sat at the table. “I KNOW I CAN’T HELP YOU WITH THAT, SO THIS IS THE LEAST I CAN DO.”

“If you want, you can help me figure out some gift ideas.” You said and sipped your latte, grateful that Pap had made it a little too strong. The extra caffeine was helpful. “I was thinking of going to the mall tomorrow, as long as I get enough of my homework done today. What would you like?”

“OH NO, YOU’RE NOT GETTING ME ANYTHING!” Pap huffed and crossed his arms. “I HAVEN’T FINISHED MAKING YOUR GIFT YET, I DON’T WANT TO BE SO FAR BEHIND!”

You blinked in surprise, suspended in mid-sip. “You made me something?”

“IT’S NOT DONE YET.” Pap turned his skull away from you, a slight orange dusting across his cheekbones. “FINDING THE MATERIAL WAS HARD ENOUGH, BUT THEN WE GOT ALL THAT SNOW AND IT BURIED EVERYTHING. I HAD TO ASK AXE TO FIND-” Pap cut himself off before he said any more and shook his skull like you had tried to coerce the surprise from him. “YOU’LL JUST HAVE TO WAIT AND SEE.”

Affection bloomed in your chest. He made something for you? It didn’t matter what it was, that must take a lot of effort and you really appreciated the gesture. You smiled as the color on Pap’s skull deepened and said, “You know, Mutt told me that you were really talented with building things. What got you so interested in that?”

“I LIKE MAKING THINGS.” Pap shrugged. “ESPECIALLY WHEN IT’S USEFUL OR MAKES OTHERS HAPPY.”

“Did you teach yourself?” You asked, thinking about your dresser and the fact that Mutt told you that Pap had made most of the furniture in the house. Did he also make the table and chair you sat at?

“YES!” Pap smiled widely. “IT WAS DIFFICULT, AT FIRST, BUT ONCE YOU UNDERSTAND HOW THINGS COME APART, IT’S EASY TO PUT THEM BACK TOGETHER.”

“Like puzzles, right?” you took a sip of your latte, also remembering that Pap told you he liked making them, and that Mutt told you Pap knew mechanics because of that. “When you built puzzles in the Underground, were they like the ones I gave you?”

“OH NO, HONEY, THEY WERE MUCH BIGGER.” Pap looked thoughtful, then added, “THEY’RE MORE LIKE THAT PUZZLE BOX, BUT IF IT WAS MADE OF METAL AND AS BIG AS THIS ROOM. OR IF THEY STRETCHED AS FAR AS THE DRIVE OUT FRONT.”

Your eyes widened as you tried to think of something that size. “Why make them so big?”

“USUALLY, THEY’RE FOR PROTECTION.” Pap said. “NOT ALL MONSTERS ARE VERY STRONG, SO THEY BUILD THEM TO KEEP THEMSELVES SAFE FROM OTHERS. OF COURSE, DISTRICT ONE WAS PRETTY PEACEFUL, SO I MADE THEM FOR FUN.”

“So they’re… dangerous?”

“IF THEY WORK LIKE THEY’RE SUPPOSED TO.” Pap nodded. “BUT I DON’T LIKE MAKING DANGEROUS THINGS.”

You turned the nearly empty mug in your hands, feeling slightly sad. Was the Underground really so dangerous that monsters had to go so far to protect themselves? Your heart became heavy as you thought of Axe and Butch, hiding together in their house from others. Of Milord working day and night to solve the unsolvable and of the scars you felt on Red’s bones as you ran your hands over his ribs….

“HONEY?” Pap asked gently, his mittened hand coming up to rest on your shoulder. His white lights were soft with concern.

“I’m okay.” you mumbled, throwing back the last of your latte to clear the lump in your throat. “I just… I wish I could change the world, sometimes. You know?”

“YOU’VE ALREADY CHANGED OURS.” Pap said, watching you get up from the table to come sit in his lap. You curled up against him, your arms around his white chest plate, and he rested his skull on top of your head as he held you back. “YOU DON’T SEE IT LIKE I DO, HONEY. WHEN YOU LEAVE FOR SCHOOL, THE WHOLE HOUSE FEELS HEAVY AND WAY TOO QUIET. IT’S NOT LIKE IT USE TO BE, BEFORE WE MET YOU, BUT...”

You looked up at Pap’s skull, at the faraway look in his white lights.

“WHAT DO YOU THINK YOU’LL DO, ONCE YOU FINISH SCHOOL?” he asked, his arms tightening around you.

“I don’t know,” you said honestly, thinking about your conversation with Professor Pierce. “But whatever it is, I’m not leaving you guys. This is my home.”

“PROMISE?” 

You brought a hand up and tilted Pap’s skull down so you could give him a gentle kiss. “Promise,” you breathed as he cupped your cheek and pulled you back to him. You parted your lips to taste his glowing, orange tongue. After the bitter coffee from the morning, the sweet, slightly spicy taste of brown sugar was almost too much, but it was so good that you grabbed him by the collar of his chest plate and turned to straddle him. You balanced your knees on the edge of the chair and climbed up him for more.

Pap leaned back, his lights wide with surprise as your tongue wrestled around his, determined to get every bit that you could from him. He started to freeze, unsure of what to do, so you encouraged him by moving one of his hands to your waist. Then the other, slowly up your sweatshirt…

“W-WAIT!” Pap stopped you and pulled his hand out from your shirt, his skull flushed orange. 

You obeyed and leaned back, curious. “What’s wrong?”

“SHOULDN’T I, UM,” Pap looked towards the archway, flustered, and stuttered, “D-DO THIS RIGHT? YOU KNOW, TAKE YOU ON DATES AND GET YOU FLOWERS AND ALL THAT? BEFORE I...”

You sat back on his lap, red in the face, grinning like an idiot. “I never took you for a romantic, Pap.”

“WELL, YOU DESERVE IT!” Pap huffed. He turned from you, embarrassed, as he said, “I’VE NEVER… I’VE NEVER TRIED TO COURT SOMEONE BEFORE, SO I WANT TO DO IT RIGHT! NOT TO MENTION YOU’RE ALREADY AN ALPHA, SO I’LL BE COMPETING WITH YOUR BETAS...”

“It’s not a competition,” you said, still smiling, as you held Pap’s hand in yours. “If you want to be with me, it’ll be at your pace. Mutt and Axe are more understanding than you think.”

“WHAT ABOUT RED?” Pap asked and touched your neck. “HIS MARK IS ALL OVER YOU.”

You shook your head. “He’s not my beta.”

“EVEN SO, I KNOW HE’S VERY TERRITORIAL.” Pap said, looking slightly uncomfortable at his own thoughts.

“Don’t you worry about him, I’ll deal with Red.” You squeezed Pap’s hand in a reassuring way and held his gaze. “What you and I do together is our business. If you want to take your time and romance me, I would really like that.”

“YOU KNOW, LETTING ME SET THE PACE ISN’T VERY DOMINANT.” Pap raised a bony brow at you, slightly skeptical. “IF YOU AREN’T DOMINANT, YOU’LL NEVER KEEP YOUR BETAS, OR RED, UNDER CONTROL.”

“You’re not all the same. I don’t need to be that way with you. Unless...” you quirked your brow at him, “you want me to be?”

Pap’s skull flushed orange under your gaze and he quickly helped you to your feet. “G-GO FINISH YOUR STUDIES, HONEY. THE SOONER YOU’RE DONE, THE MORE TIME WE HAVE TOGETHER, RIGHT?”

“All right, if you insist,” you sighed through a grin. “Pick out a recipe for us to do together once I’m done, won’t you? For our date?”

A smile broke out over Pap’s skull and he nodded. “JUST US?”

“Just us,” you agreed, wandering back through the archway towards the stairs.

~~~

Since he had stayed up so late with you, or maybe this was normal and you just didn’t know, but Red didn’t wake up until midday. He sat quietly by you, leaning on your shoulder as you studied, his eye lights slowly sharpening from their sleepy fog as he woke up. Without a word he got up, slipped on his sneakers, and left.

You looked up from your books just in time to see his skull disappear beyond the staircase. If he was upset, he wouldn’t have let himself be so close to you, right?

You shook the worry from your head and returned to your studies. He was fine last night, before bed. If you were going to get anything done, you couldn’t chase him down just to double check. He knew he could come to you if something was bothering him, it was part of your deal.

Not long after Red left, Butch came up to your room with a plate for lunch. He seemed nervous to be around you and nearly dropped the plate when you touched his hands to take it. That golden flush reappeared on his skull and he sped from the room. You stared after him, wondering why he was so flustered.

It came back to you: Axe outed Butch’s feelings about you after he had helped you bring up your books. But surely he knew you liked him, too? He must know, you had offered to make him part of your pack...

You shoveled your food down, barely tasting it, in your rush to return to your studies. If you could just get your psych homework done, and your thesis outlines, you could go visit the brothers and take a break. As you leaned over the bed, searching for a reference, you spotted the calculus book. With a heavy groan, you picked it up and thumbed through the assigned problems. You would never get this done, at least well enough for a passing grade, without Milord’s help.

Should you leave the work you knew you could do to try and make an effort to talk to him? Or would you only feel more stress if you failed and had your studies still looming over you? Frustrated, you pressed your palms into your eyes and tried to decide. If you finished what you could today, you could spend all day tomorrow trying to reconnect with Milord. If you needed help, Mutt did promise you he would…

As night started to fall, you left your room to make a cup of coffee in the kitchen. Your brain throbbed from the constant studying (you decided to tackle your Monster Studies paper) and you barely paid attention to what you were doing. So much so that you didn’t even notice Edge watching you from the table, a bewildered look on his skull, as you did a pour over and mumbled legal jargon under your breath.

You returned to your room, studying so late into the night that the hairline moon had risen beyond your window and out of sight. Just one more problem, one more line, one more definition…

When the lines on the page started to cross, you knew you couldn’t do any more. You got up, stumbled towards the stairs, and turned off the light. You tripped on a book getting back to your bed but you didn’t care, your eyes were closed before you hit the sheets.

~~~

Neon yellow.

A giant spider’s web.

You fell forward, through a giant hole and into the dark.

_ “...tO mE…” _

~~~

There was a pressure inside of your chest and your eyes flew open in fright. Someone was sitting on you, their hand on your shoulder, shaking you awake. It was too dark to see who it was and you saw no eye lights looking down at you. Panic gripped you and your hand flew up, to smack them away, to get them off you, but they caught your hand easily in a grip of soft leather. That feeling made you hesitate. Why was it familiar?

They guided your hand upwards and you felt smooth bone beneath your fingers. A cold, pained voice mumbled, “Do… the thing.”

“...Milord?” you asked, sitting up. The body on you tensed and the icy voiced hissed at the noise. You froze, your panic fading and being replaced by understanding. You had been dreaming about something, but then Milord had woken you up. The only reason you could think of that he would come to you, in the middle of the night, acting like this… he had a migraine. A really bad one, judging by the way he pulled at your hand again, placing it on his skull.

You opened your mouth to say something, then quickly shut it. If sound gave him pain, then he was already hurting more from the noise in your soul. Reaching out into the dark, your eyes slowly adjusting to the starlight through your window, you found his shoulders and silently guided him down to sit in front of you.

When he finally obeyed your nonverbal commands, you reached up and started rubbing at his skull, at his temples and neck vertebrae, with a firm touch. He leaned into your hands and you understood he wanted more pressure.

As you tried to work the migraine from his skull, you wondered how long he had made himself deal with it before seeking you out. How heavy was his workload, that he had gotten this bad? Then, you felt shame for being slightly grateful for his pain. He might’ve avoided you forever if he never had this happen. But why did he avoid you at all?

Milord groaned and leaned back against you, his shoulders relaxing beneath his leather jacket, as your work finally started to ease the pain. Despite the ache in your hands and joints, you kept up the pressure. A small plan was starting to form in your mind, but it could wait until he felt better.

If you could just get him to relax a little bit, maybe you could finally talk to him and find out why he had been avoiding you for almost a week.

Your fingers started to lock up and you had to shake one out before bringing it back to his skull. Purple lights lit up the dark as Milord finally opened his sockets, to see why you drew your hand away, and he caught your other hand as you went to shake it out, too.

“That’s enough.” His voice was cold as he moved your hand towards the sheets. He swung his feet over the side of the bed to get up. “Go back to sleep.”

Your hand shot out to catch him, grabbing him by the back of his jacket to keep him on the bed. “Your migraine isn’t gone, is it?”

“I can function perfectly fine at this level.” Milord reached back to try and knock your hand loose, but you grabbed his wrist and pulled him back onto the bed, where you locked your arms around his shoulders. “What the jevil are you doing, woman?! Release me!”

“No!” You wrapped your legs around his chest and locked your ankles together as he struggled. “I’m not letting you go back to work at this hour with a damn migraine!”

“That is not your decision to make!”

“I wouldn’t have to make it if you would take care of yourself!”

“Don’t,” he growled, the room going dark as the lights vanished from his sockets, “make me use force against you.”

“If you just wait for one hour,” you pressed, not letting yourself be intimidated by the smell of frost gathering around you, “Just one hour for your migraine to go away completely, then I’ll let you go. I won’t bother you ever again unless you need me.”

“Do you realize what I could accomplish in one hours time?” Milord snapped. He struggled again, but you tightened your leg lock.

“Then how about you solve this problem for me, Mr. Mathematics.” You growled, thinking quickly, “If you can solve ten problems in one hour with a migraine, and 30 problems in an hour without one, does it make more sense to wait one hour so that you can work more efficiently?”

Finally, you felt Milord still beneath you. Purple light returned to the room and the smell of frost faded. “...one hour. Do not test my patience after that.”

“Good.” you grumbled, releasing your legs, but still holding tight onto his shoulders.

Milord pulled at your arms. “Unhand me!”

“I’m not stupid,” you rolled your eyes, even though he could not see them. “The moment I let you go, you’re going to teleport back to your room. If I thought of it, I know you have.”

“Why are you insisting on wasting my time?” Milord snapped, though you could feel his skull grow hot against your arm and knew you had guessed right.

“It’s not wasting time, it’s called relaxing. And if there was ever a person in the world that needed to relax, it’s you.”

“I don’t have time for that nonsense.”

“Do you understand what stress can really do to you?” you asked, sitting up so that you could look over the top of his skull and into his purple lights. “Humans and monsters may be different in some ways, but I know you get stressed, too. My mom used to get migraines, just like you.”

“I recall.” Milord looked away from your gaze, at the far wall with your dresser against it. “You explained the first time you assisted me.”

“Good, I’m glad you remember.” you nodded, thinking back yourself on what else you knew so that, for once, you could teach Milord something instead of him always teaching you. “You should know there were other effects of her stress I couldn’t help with. She had stomach problems, insomnia, and periods of deep depression when she couldn’t deal with it all. My dad would have physical pain in his back and joints, or would get muscle cramps, when he couldn’t get rid of his stress. That’s not the only set of issues that exist. I study the mind, Milord, and I know how it works. If you don’t take a break, if you don’t stop overworking yourself, you’ll burn out. Then you won’t be able to do anything at all. You can take a lot, way more than I ever could’ve imagined, but everyone has their breaking point. These migraines of yours are your body’s way of trying to tell you it’s too much.”

Some of the tension in Milord’s shoulders eased. He let himself lay against you and you relaxed your grip on him, feeling like he wasn’t going to run now.

“You came to me tonight because you knew I could help you,” you said softly, “so please, let me.”

Milord gave a heavy sigh and leaned his skull back against your chest. “...I agreed to one hour. You have what remains of it.”

You smiled. It wasn’t a lot of time, but you would take it. If you tried to push for any more... who knows how distant he would become. If you could get him to agree with you, that taking a moment for himself wasn’t a waste of time, maybe he wouldn’t be upset with you.

“Okay,” you let Milord go and slid out from under him. “Take off your jacket and lie on the bed on your stomach.”

His lights narrowed suspiciously. “...for what purpose?”

“I’ve shown you how I helped my mom.” You grinned as Milord slowly removed his leather jacket, folded it, and laid it across your pillows. “Let me show you how I helped my dad. You’re still okay with me touching you, right?”

“To a point.” Milord removed his boots and set them neatly by the foot of the bed. At your curious look, he explained, “I refuse to track dirt on your sheets.”

He was worried about dirt? You stifled a snicker, hoping that he didn’t look on the other side of the bed where you had cereal all over the floor. He would probably go nuts, knowing you hadn’t cleaned it up yet.

As Milord laid down, you gently adjusted his arms so that they were up by his skull. “Move up a little, so your head is hanging off the bed,” you said, looking at the long sleeved, dark purple shirt that he wore beneath his jacket. “I need your spine and shoulder blades to lay flat so I can do this properly.”

“What are you doing, exactly?” He asked, his cold voice suspicious as you sat on his hips. He tried to turn, to throw you off, but you put a gentle hand on his back and pushed him back into the sheets.

“Same thing I did for your skull.” You rubbed out the stiffness in your fingers, mentally planning how you were going to go about this. “Giving you a massage. If this doesn’t get you to relax, I don’t know what will.”

Milord laid back onto the sheets and you looked him over. Even though you couldn’t see them, you knew he was all bones beneath the shirt. Using your fingers might be uncomfortable, since they could only work small parts at a time and would poke in between his ribs. You weren’t familiar enough with a skeletal body to be so precise without seeing. Though the sides and heel of your palms would work just fine, and you wouldn’t get stiff as quickly if you used just that.

You started up on his shoulder blades, figuring that would be the easiest place to get a feel for this. Milord stiffened beneath you as you worked the side of your palm into the flat bone, then you felt him sigh into the sheets when you increased the pressure and moved towards his spine. Feeling encouraged, you slowly explored his back and rib cage.

“Good so far?” you asked quietly, leaning forward to try and glimpse his face as you rolled the heel of your palm along his upper vertebrae. Milord said nothing, but he shivered as you worked his spine and you could see that his gloved hands hung limply off the bed. Beyond that, you glimpsed the side of a grin and the glow of his purple lights had turned hazy. Smirking, you said, “I’ll take that as a yes.”

Up until this point, you had avoided his lower back, but you couldn’t think of a reason to neglect it any longer. There wasn’t much there, just his lower spine, but you did the best you could with your fingers. You didn’t want to accidentally put too much pressure on his spinal column with your palm. He shivered again beneath you as you got closer to the wings of his pelvis. When you started to roll the heels of your palms across them, he actually groaned and shoved his face into the sheets.

“Not there,” he said, his voice muffled by the bedding. You paused and looked up, wondering if you had hurt him on accident, and saw only his gloved hands gripping the sheets tightly. 

You nodded. Then, remembering that he couldn’t see you, said, “Okay, sorry.” Your hands were starting to hurt a little from the small bumps and grooves in his spine. Perhaps it was time to stop, but you didn’t want to end it on a bad note. There was only one idea left to you. If it had worked for Red, maybe it would work for Milord. 

You placed your hands at the base of his rib cage, where there was more of a solid base, and said, “Now, take a deep breath in, and let it out slowly.”

His breath lifted your hands and you pressed up and along his spine as he let it out. Half a dozen cracks filled the room and Milord jerked beneath you, sucking a breath in through his sharp teeth.

“Fuck!” his skull collapsed over the side of the bed and you rushed up around to him, panicking.

“I’m sorry! I thought that would feel good, I..” you trailed off, seeing a deep, lavender flush over the huge smile on Milord’s face. Your panic quickly fell away and you sat on the wood floor, watching him just enjoy the moment with a grin on your face to match his.

He tilted his skull to look at you with hazy purple lights and the back of his gloved hand came up to touch your cheek. Affection warmed your chest to see him so happy and finally relaxed.

“Does this mean I can see you again?” you asked gently, hopeful that whatever you had done to upset him had been made up for.

The smile on Milord’s face fell and his purple eye lights hardened. He withdrew his hand from your cheek and sat up on the bed.

“Wait!” You scrambled to your feet, stopping him as he reached for his boots. “Why are you leaving? I thought I had an hour?”

“I should never have allowed this.” Milord knocked your hand out of the way and reached again for the boots. You grabbed him by the wrist and he looked away from you, his demeanor cold once more. “Let me leave.”

“What did I do wrong?” you asked, frantically searching your mind for any mistake you might have made. “Are you angry I made you stay? Did I hurt you?”

“No,” Milord looked at your hand and halfheartedly tried to pull away.

“Was it something I did before? Did I ask for too much of your time when I wanted to play chess with you?”

“No,” he looked away as you tried to move in front of him, his voice like ice that reached out and froze your soul.

“Then what do you want?” you pleaded, trying to find some way to stop him from disappearing again, “I don’t understand, I thought you liked me?”

“Therein lies the problem.” Milord wiped your hand away, anger starting to fill his voice, and got to his feet. “You can’t understand the dilemma that forces me into if I allow it to happen!”

“Then explain it to me so I can help.” You reached out to him and he smacked at your hand. You recoiled, your hand stinging, and took a step back. Hurt tore at your heart and you saw his lights drift towards your chest.

Milord turned away, his gloved hands coming up to pull at his temples. He gritted his teeth in frustration and gave an irritable sigh. “So you think you can solve an unsolvable conundrum? Fine. I’ll let you try.

Imagine you are in a position of power, one that allows you to make life or death decisions, or influence the future of your country. You realize that every move you make is closely watched by the few people above you and that they expect perfection, because those below you will emulate your actions. 

Now add into this a neighboring country. It is vastly different from yours. Where you have poverty, they have wealth. Where you have violence, they have peace. They have an overabundance of resources that could solve all of your problems. But your governing body is at a stalemate within itself. Part of it wants peace, to try and use friendship to gain what your country needs. Part of it wants to steal, part of it wants to coerce, and the last part wants to take it all by force. You must prepare for all of these eventualities with the sparse resources at your disposal.

Then, as you are in the middle of doing all this, someone from this other country comes to live with you. You see this as an opportunity to further your work. If you can observe this person, you can find out how your assumed enemy thinks and formulate better ways to execute your plans.”

Milord’s skull turned towards your dresser, to where you had stacks of books piled high and plants growing under the starlight. You watched him, unable to see the look on his face, but you could hear the tightness in his cold voice, like ice about to crack, as he continued to speak.

“But then this person is unlike anything you expected. They are not like the propaganda you are forced to distribute to your masses. They are, in fact, selfless and brilliant. They seek out the problems you struggle with on their own volition and attempt to find solutions for you. What they cannot solve, they offer instead the resources of knowledge your country lacks for you to find solutions yourself.

You see the danger that is coming as you start to work with them. You tell yourself that it won’t happen, because it can’t. You already dedicated your life to your people. If you lost your position of power, not only would it be catastrophic for your country, but it would also destroy your family because you will lose the ability to protect them.”

Milord turned and sat on the bed. He held his skull in his hands and whispered to the floor, “Though you foresaw this very trap, you still trip head first into it. You let yourself grow too fond of this person, and now you are left with an inevitable choice. Do you distance yourself now and hurt them only slightly, to keep them safe while you act, or do you allow it to grow and hurt them even more in the future, when your countries are at war and they know you must make the choices that might decimate their people to save your own?” Milord finally looked up at you, his lights wavering sadly, and asked, “Tell me, Zeta, what would you do in my position?”

You sat on the edge of the bed, feeling light headed. Milord was talking about open war between humans and monsters like it was going to happen any day. No wonder he was avoiding you entirely. He never had told you the whole story about the Underground and for good reason.

But that still didn’t change how you felt. You loved these brothers, this family, and it didn’t matter to you if they were monsters or not.

“You cannot answer, can you?” Milord sighed, his gaze falling to the floor. “Now you can fully appreciate my predicament.”

“So you’re saying,” you said slowly, trying to think past this overwhelming new information, “that the only choices are one country or the other?”

He nodded sadly. “There are no other possibilities.”

“And you’re saying war is inevitable?”

“It is the most likely outcome, at this point.” Milord pulled at his gloves, fidgeting. “Your country will be under a media blackout, but mine is not. It would be putting it very lightly to say that relations between our species is strained. The Underground has been contained for centuries and, now that we are free, public opinion is nearing the breaking point. My people are hungry and crowded. They feel trapped and they blame humans for putting us below the mountain in the first place. Queen Scotch may not be the most verbally gifted, but she has public support for war.”

“But what about the other Queens?” You asked, hoping against hope that there was a way out of this.

“I already told you their opinions.” Milord shrugged. “I personally back Queen Cinn and Queen Toriel, they have mostly nonviolent solutions, but two of them cannot move the vote past a tie. Queen Slians can possibly be swayed, but for the moment, the most likely solutions for her District lie with Queen Scotch’s plan.”

You looked over at Milord, your heart tight, and finally understood part of the reason why he had been so vague with the information he gave you. The more you found out about the Underground, the more it hurt you to think about it. The fact that he was being so openly honest about this situation showed how real it was to him, how desperate, and how much he didn’t want it to happen.

“I wouldn’t ask you to choose.” you said quietly. He looked up, his purple lights flickering curiously, and you explained. “I hope this war never happens, but I know how it goes. Human history is built on blood. The history books will say there is a clear winner, but that’s not true. Everyone suffers when we fight. So if this… if this does happen, I wouldn’t ask you to choose a side. I can’t help that I’m born human, just like you can’t help that you’re a monster.

You told me yourself that I can’t save everyone. So if a war happens, I’m going to do everything I can to save the ones I love the most, and that’s you guys. Everyone in this house. I don’t care what happens to anyone else as long as I can protect all of you. If you need to make those choices to save the Underground, then do it. I’d watch the world burn if I can keep you guys from the flames.”

Milord chuckled bitterly. “I think that’s the most selfish thing I’ve ever heard you say.”

You looked over at Milord, at his hanging skull, and scooted over to rest a hand on his shoulder. He didn’t shrug it off or bat it away, but he looked at it with wavering lights. “What about all of those things we’re working on? Is it for nothing?”

“I would like to think not.” Milord let his gloved hand come up to hold your arm, the soft leather of his thumb rubbing against the inside of your wrist. “If, somehow, the Queens are swayed towards peace, these things we have set into motion will be vital to maintain said peace.”

“So can we keep working on it together?” you asked, letting yourself feel a small bit of hope. “I’m already trying to work on the human side of things, but I could really use your help.”

“How do you plan on implementing change?” Milord raised his skull, curious. “You do not hold a position of power, what can you do?”

“That’s the nice thing about my country’s form of government,” you gave him a small smile, wanting him to feel hopeful, too. “Anybody can change the law as long as they get enough support behind them. Right now, I’m working on dissolving the segregation between us. That way, you and your brothers and all the other monsters will be able to go where they like. Maybe it’ll open up more trade, or raise public opinion, or who knows what? We have to start somewhere, and freedom to leave this mountain is one of the biggest gifts I think we humans can give to the monsters who have been trapped under it for centuries.”

“When… did you decide this?” Milord asked, his lights starting to turn into haze as he looked at you.

“I’ve been thinking about it for awhile, but I made everything official at school not too long ago. It’s the best place to do it, I think. I see people on campus trying to change the law all the time. I just… don’t understand it very well myself.” You looked at him shyly, hoping that your next words wouldn’t put more pressure on him. “I wanted to ask you for help, but you’ve been, well, avoiding me. Do you think we can keep helping each other?”

“I… am unsure.” Milord looked away, his purple lights snapping back into sharp focus.

“Even though I’m not asking you to act against the Underground?” you leaned in slightly, drawing his attention back to you. “If you don’t have to worry about that unsolvable riddle of yours, why can’t we work together? I really like being around you, you know. I don’t want you to disappear again.”

A slight lavender flush crossed his nasal ridge from your closeness. He mumbled, “I don’t want you to hate me for what I would have to do if we fail.”

“How can I hate you for it when I already told you I don’t care? The war hasn’t been decided on yet, right?” You asked him, feeling nervous for the answer, “So if you’re free to choose, what do you want?”

Milord sighed and stared thoughtfully into the darkness in your room. After a long while, his purple lights found your eyes and turned back into a haze. “...you.”

You leaned in a little closer, waiting for Milord to close the distance. His lights glanced nervously towards your lips and you could feel him freeze beneath your hand on his shoulder. You could tell he wanted to, but he had spent so long denying himself what he wanted that he just couldn’t make that small move. You pulled him in by his shoulder, cupped his skull with your free hand, and kissed him so hard you could feel him melt under your touch.

He freed his hands from you and you could feel him doing something behind your back. You started to break the kiss, curious, but then his gloveless hands came up and pulled you to him again. Milord licked at your lip, his lavender tongue cool on your skin, as he ran one hand through your hair and over the exposed skin on your neckline. The other pulled at your waist, drawing you closer as you parted your lips.

His tongue chilled yours like cold water and had the minty tingle of menthol. Just as you started to enjoy the cooling sensation his kiss gave you, he pulled away.

Before you could even ask why, you saw that he was taking off his shirt. He caught your gaze as he tossed it aside and smirked. “I cannot have your scent all over my work attire, Zeta. That would be very difficult to explain, given the situation I have just described to you.”

“I understand,” you nodded, and his smirk widened into a grin as he lifted you up further onto the bed. He climbed on top of you and held himself up with one arm while he kissed you again, eager for more, and the cold taste of menthol made you shiver.

His free hand took yours and brought it up to his rib cage. You started to explore at his prompting, slowly tracing along each of the smooth bones as he ran his hand through your hair, down your neck, and over your exposed chest over the collar of your sweatshirt.

You noticed that he didn’t respond so much to touches on his rib cage, like Red had, so you moved up to his neck. You remembered that he shivered a lot when you went along his spine during your massage, and he did the same now as you traced a finger down the back of his neck vertebrae. Milord broke the kiss and went for your neck, biting at you hard with his sharp teeth that he then soothed with licks from his cool tongue. You tried to hold back a moan as he found your soft spot, but it escaped anyway and he kept attacking the spot.

It wasn’t fair, you thought as his hand went under your shirt, exploring until he found your breasts and then teased the area while you felt that heat growing in your belly. It wasn’t fair that it was so easy for him to find those spots that worked you up while you had to work hard at it…

Your eyes drifted down his bare back to his pelvis as your face warmed and your breath started to get heavy. He was biting down now, along your collar, looking for other places you liked. You didn’t know if that spot was good or bad for him, but you could try. You hadn’t been able to see his face at the time…

Reaching around and past his lower spine, you found the upper wing of his pelvis and gently rubbed your thumb along the crest. Milord bit into your shoulder, stifling a groan, but you could see lavender light starting to gather just below your hand. 

He turned your face towards his and kissed you passionately, needing to taste you. You smiled, glad that you found a spot for him, and brought your other hand to the opposite wing, mirroring the moves from the other side. 

Milord moaned and his face dropped into your neck, his face hot and his cold breath heavy, as he reached down and brought your legs up on either side of his hips. You moved your hands away from his pelvis and back up his spine, the gentle touches sending shivers through him again.

“I want to see you.” he whispered in your ear, his hand pulling at your sweatshirt. You nodded, arching your back so that he could pull the shirt off of you and over your head.

Milord leaned back, his hazy, purple lights looking over every inch of your exposed skin. You felt your face turn red and you moved to cover yourself, but he gently caught your hands and pinned them to the side. He slowly released you and leaned over your chest, his teeth gently nipping at your breast, while his hand played with its twin. You moaned and moved your hips against his, wanting more.

He came back up to your neck, biting at your soft spot as his hand trailed down your stomach, pulling at your stockings. Your desire battled fiercely with your fear and you grabbed his hand, your heart hammering in your chest.

“What is it?” he asked, pulling away from you in concern. “Do you not want…?”

“I don’t want you to see…” you mumbled. He looked down at your legs, at your stockings and nodded.

“There is a solution to this,” Milord looked back up, a smirk on his face, “given that you do want me to claim you?”

You nodded, unsure of what he meant. Rather than tell you, Milord reached down, between your legs, and you heard a ripping noise as his skeletal finger tore your stockings in two. You squealed in embarrassment, trying to cross your legs as he ran that finger over your freed slit.

“This can’t be your first time.” He raised a bony brow at you, wondering at your sudden shyness. “I know you’ve at least been claimed by my little brother.”

“I-I claimed him.” you stuttered, your whole face flushed as Milord let his hand wander up your side. “I’ve done this before, but it was a very long time ago. I haven’t done… not with anyone… since.”

His purple lights flickered in surprise. “Really?”

“I don’t want anyone to see my legs…” you mumbled.

Milord turned your face to his and kissed you gently, reassuring you that he wouldn’t push you too far, too fast. “Well then,” he smirked as he returned to nip at your neck, “I will ensure my tailor repeats her previous mistakes when I have these repaired.”

You stared at the ceiling, stunned by the revelation. How had you not seen that use for those leggings before?

You were brought out of your amazement by Milord running his fingers over your slit again, finding that sensitive spot just at the top of the opening. You bit your bottom lip and lifted your hips into him, needing that touch, that spot. He toyed with you, rubbing at you until you were squirming and his fingers came away slick with your want. You brought your hand back down to his pelvis, rubbing at the crest while your other hand trailed up and down his spine.

He groaned and bit down on your soft spot, hard, until you cried out and scratched at him. As he licked his cool tongue against the bite, he reached down, undid his pants, and kicked them off onto the floor.

You could feel the cool touch of his member rubbing against your entrance as he kissed you gently, slowly moving his hips against yours until you whined.

“...ready?” Milord whispered in your ear. You closed your eyes and nodded.

He pressed against you, slowly sliding himself inside you as you gasped and bit your lip. Maybe it was because it had been so long, or maybe it was because he was bigger than you thought, but you were glad that his magic was cold and it helped dull the pain.

“Stars, you’re tight.” he groaned into your neck, his breath heavy as he slowly moved in and out; probably for your benefit as much as his. He tilted your chin and kissed you again, letting you get lost in the taste of menthol while he gently stretched you.

Gradually, his movement lost the pain and started to feel good. You moaned and bucked your hips, wanting him to go faster. He grabbed your waist and lifted you, using the leverage to trust deeper than before, but still just as slowly. You started to whine again for more and he kissed you to keep you quiet, his tongue muffling your noise as his fingers dug into your thighs and he shuddered with delight.

Your hands wandered blindly, trying to find places to tease him as he moved in and out of you. One hand found the crest of his pelvis again and you rubbed your thumb along the ridge. Milord groaned into your mouth and he finally increased his pace. You squirmed beneath him, clung to him, as you rode on waves of pleasure.

Electricity was building in your veins and you wrapped your legs around him, matching his movements as he sped up. He clawed at your back, his skull falling to your neck as he panted under your noise. That feeling was building, hotter and hotter and your fingers scrabbled at his spine, because if you didn’t get more you would explode...

“Fuck, yes, right there!” You cried out, your nails digging into his shoulder blades as he slammed into you again and again and you felt that dam of electricity burst and sear every nerve, even as you felt something cold fill you. Milord drew you against him, shuddering as he slammed into you one last time and then collapsed on top of you.

You laid there together, panting, until Milord pulled out of you and rolled off to the side, his hand resting across your chest. You scooted closer to wrap your arm around him. He smiled as you gave him a gentle kiss and brushed a strand of wet hair out of your face. The room darkened again as the magic at his pelvis dissipated.

“Are you aware,” he whispered through the dark, his eye lights still hazy as they watched you, “of how incredibly fond I am of you?”

You smiled and nuzzled up against him. “I love you, too.”

Milord closed his sockets and you watched him slowly get his breath back, your mind turning. If he cared this much about you, maybe…. “Milord?”

“Hm?” he mumbled, without opening his sockets.

“Can I… mark you?”

Milord sighed. “That’s inadvisable, Zeta. I can’t venture around the Underground with a mark on my neck, even with my scarf to cover it. It’s too risky.”

“But I don’t mark on the neck.” you said and ran your finger over his collarbone. “I mark here.”

“Really?” Milord cracked his sockets open. “I thought that was just Mutt being a deviant.”

You giggled. “No, he let me pick the spot. Axe has his there, too.”

“You’ve marked Axe?” He opened his sockets all the way, his purple lights glowing with curiosity. “When was this?”

“Not long after Mutt,” you shrugged. “Axe doesn’t really brag like Mutt does. If you didn’t know, then it must make it a good place, right?”

Milord hummed, considering this point. “There’s still the fact I would not be able to dedicate as much time as an alpha demands. Is it not enough to know that I care for you?”

“Well, yes,” you felt your cheeks burn with indignity. Was he suggesting that you were high maintenance? “But I would like us to be official. I know your work is important to you, I wouldn’t be unreasonable when I ask to spend time with you.”

“I still cannot cater to an alpha.” Milord shook his skull. “I’ve had one before, Zeta, I know how it is. You’ll have a set of rules, no doubt, and I cannot readjust my schedule to accommodate them.”

“You make it sound like you expect to wait on me hand and foot.” You poked at his bare ribs. “That’s not the kind of alpha I am. I take care of my betas just as much as they take care of me. The only rules I have are no bragging, communicate when you want something, and try to get along.”

Milord stared at you, his eye lights flickering. “By the angel, you’re serious, aren’t you?” He tilted his skull at you, considering you, and then laughed. It was a clear, ringing noise like a crystal bell, and then ran a hand over the top of his skull. 

“What’s so funny?” you mumbled, your face warm with embarrassment.

“That is, by far, the most unconventional system I have ever heard of.” Milord grinned at you, his lights bright. “You don’t demand anything at all? No breakfast in bed on Sundays, or mandatory date nights, or gifts every week?”

“What? No!” You sat up as Milord started to chuckle and glared at him. “As far as I’m concerned, we’re all equals. That’s why I like to call us a pack; we work together.”

Milord sighed with mirth and wrapped an arm around you. “If it were anyone but you, Zeta, I wouldn’t believe it.”

“So do you want my mark, or not?” you grumbled, crossing your arms over your bare chest.

Milord sat up and watched you out of the corner of his sockets. “I won’t pretend that I haven’t wondered about the possibility. But you must understand, full disclosure, that I cannot always provide what you need. There will be times that you want something and I cannot give it to you.”

“The only thing I want from you,” you sighed, “is for you to take some time for yourself to unwind. Take a day off during the week. Or,” you added at the look of indignity on his skull, “start with something small, like a half day.”

Milord tapped at his chin in thought. “I suppose… that is a reasonable request. I would be able to fulfill my obligations to you during that time.”

“So, that’s a yes?” You perked up, excited.

With a small nod of his skull, Milord gestured towards his collarbone. “Go ahead, Zeta. I accept.”

You squealed and tackled him to the bed. His hands had just barely come up to brace himself before you had the bone in between your canines and bit down with all your might. He sucked in a breath through his sharp teeth, his fingers digging into your arms.

“A bit overzealous, aren’t you?” Milord winced as you pulled away and grinned mischievously at him.

“That’s for avoiding me for a week.” You continued to grin, smug, until he got up and found his pants. Your grin immediately fell. “You’re not leaving, are you?”

Milord looked up at you after he pulled his pants on. He glanced over at the staircase, back at you, and then sighed. “You would be upset if I did, I assume?”

“Yes.” you huffed as he pulled on his long, purple shirt and tossed you your sweatshirt.

“I thought you said I had no obligations?”

“No,” you pulled on your sweatshirt, pouting. “But it would be awfully rude of you to claim me and then make me sleep alone.”

“I assume you will also give me a lecture on the effects of sleep deprivation.” Milord smirked and sat back on the bed.

“You’re damn right I will.” You grinned, pulling back the covers for you both.

“And you will also want me to do this mandatory half day off starting immediately?”

“I would like that.” You smiled as you settled in next to Milord, happy that he was with you. “If it’ll help you ease into it, you can help me with my homework. That’s still productive, considering one of my thesis papers is on getting that law changed?”

He smirked and let his arm rest over your waist as you rested your head on his chest. “I’ve no doubt you’ve also neglected your calculus, considering how hopeless you are with it.”

You closed your eyes, enjoying the feeling of him breathing beneath you. “You know me so well.”


	18. Ch 18 - Competition

Ch 18 - Competition

“Zeta, get up.”

You grumbled irritably, pawed at the hand that poked you hard in the chest, and rolled over into the cream sheets to hide your face from the first rays of sunrise. Milord tapped the toe of his boot irritably against the wooden floor. He bent over you, his teeth inches from the back of your neck, and blew a breath as cold as ice onto your skin.

“I’m up!” You squealed, slapping at the frost clinging to your hair and rolling out of bed. Milord stood over you, his arms crossed over his leather jacket and a grumpy look on his skull, as you sat up and glared at him. “Was that necessary?”

“I considered doing far worse.” Milord’s boot resumed tapping irritably as you got to your feet. “Particularly because you let me sleep in this filthy room of yours.”

“It’s not that bad,” you shifted uncomfortably, wondering if he had found the cereal. Your wandering eyes spotted the broom and full dustpan by your dresser and you flushed pink with embarrassment. Had he gotten up early just to clean?

“If it weren’t for Sans, you would have the most unkempt room in the house! I’ve already been up for hours cleaning up after your mess.” Milord snapped, his purple lights narrowing at you. “Food on the floor, books and dirty clothes just thrown about, and a layer of grime that makes it obvious you’ve never thoroughly cleaned since you moved in here! I had to double the duration of my usual morning shower just to get the dust out of my joints. And what the hell-” Milord uncrossed his arms and angrily shoved your black sweater dress into your hands, “-is this?!”

Your face flushed red as you looked at the torn material, stained with your blood. “Um, an accident?”

“Don’t insult my intelligence. I know who did this, his scent is all over it.” Milord glared at you, his voice cold. “What happened?”

“Don’t be angry at him,” you said firmly, holding his gaze as you watched a cold fury building. “I didn’t want you, or anyone, to find out because I knew you would be upset. He didn’t mean to, he was trying so hard to control himself. If you had seen what it was like for him-”

“If you ever-” Milord stepped in close, his voice low and dangerous, “try to hide something like this again, I will not be so understanding.”

“He’s trying, Milord.” you said gently and reached for his hand. He let you take it, but you could feel the ice of his magic as it simmered beneath his leather glove. “Everyone makes mistakes.”

He watched you, his lights appraising you. His fingers squeezed yours and he ran a hand over the side of your face. “Don’t let your guard down around him, Zeta. I know you want to help, but you don’t know his background like I do. He’s a hardened criminal and those types don’t change very easily.”

“So is Mutt,” you said, remembering that Milord had been the one to save him when he had been arrested. Milord’s grip tightened on you and his lights narrowed. “But he’s not someone I have to be guarded around.”

“The nature of their crimes is vastly different,” Milored sighed and drew you into him, squeezing you tight as he spoke into your ear. “I cannot keep you separated from Red, but at the very least promise me that you’ll heed my warning. I can shield you from the Underground as long as you let me, but I can’t always guard you against my brothers.”

“You don’t need to be so protective of me, Milord,” you kissed the side of his skull, “but I promise I’ll keep what you said in mind.”

He turned your face to his and kissed you gently, giving you a small taste of menthol as you sighed into him. “See to it that you do, Zeta. The biggest influence on my decision to become your beta was that I had the impression we are on equal standing and you would listen to me.”

“We are. I do!”

“Good.” Milord let you go and crossed the room with a few clipped steps to your dresser. He tossed a set of clothes to you and said curtly, “Now, go take a shower and change. When you’ve finished, leave your torn stockings in my room so I can get them cleaned and fixed, then meet me downstairs in half an hour. I’ve already separated the coursework you need my assistance with.”

You held back a giggle, watching him examine a book you had bought on city planning and architecture. Leave it to him to focus on cleaning and trying to schedule his time off. “I got a lot of those books with you in mind, so borrow anything you like whenever you like.”

Milord grinned and turned to browse your growing library. You held your clothes to your chest, hesitating slightly.

“Want to bring your chessboard?” you asked, hoping that there would be time, “Just in case we finish my homework early?”

“If you stop procrastinating, I see no reason not to.” Milord smirked over his shoulder, his eye lights shining, as you turned and hurried towards your bathroom.

~~~

You flew down the oak steps, your wet hair soaking the back of your green sweater dress, and down the entryway. Milord looked up from the urban planning book as you slid to a stop on the tile in the kitchen, panic filling you.

“We didn’t use protection.” you gasped, answering his confused look. You thought again of your white stockings as you examined them after your shower; of the light, lavender stain on the inside and of that cold feeling that filled you last night. You repeated, your voice a high squeak, “We didn’t use protection!”

“What are you talking about?” Milord asked, his bony brow quirked at you as you grabbed him by the front of his leather jacket and shook him.

“We didn’t use-! When we-!”

“Calm down, Zeta.” Milord set the book aside and grabbed your shoulders to still you. “Explain what the problem is.”

“I’m not on birth control!” you hissed. Didn’t he see how big of a deal this was? “We didn’t use any contraceptive, I didn’t even think about it and I’m so  _ stupid _ ! I don’t want a-”

“Child?” Milord calmly finished for you. You nodded, your chest tight. You were in school, you weren’t ready for that. Maybe later, much further in the future, but not now. He heard your panic rising again and glanced at your chest. How was he still so calm? “Listen, Zeta, you’re not pregnant. You weren’t in heat, for one. That ended days ago.”

“What difference does that make?” You asked, your mind still flying in circles like a frightened bird inside of a building.

Milord sighed at you, trying to be patient. “The entire point of a heat is to advertise fertility. If you’re not in heat, you cannot conceive.”

“You’re sure I’m not...?” You breathed, finally calming as Milord rested his gloved hand on your shoulder and gave it a squeeze.

“If you were, I believe I would hear the noise of a developing soul coming from you, seeing as you are human. Also consider the fact we are different species. It’s highly unlikely that we could ever successfully breed together.” He leaned in and stood on his toes to kiss the top of your wet head. His voice lost it’s usual frosty undertone as he tried to reassure you, “I do not want a child, either. There is far too much we have to deal with presently without the added complication. I’m almost insulted that you think that I would take such a risk.”

“So, as long as I’m not in heat, I can’t…?”

“That is the point here, yes.” Milord sat you down, took a mug on the table, near the stacks of books and wooden box with the chess set inside, and handed it to you. “If there was even the slightest chance for that to happen, I would not risk it. That also means that you should avoid being claimed during your heat if you want to be completely safe.”

You sipped the still warm, instant coffee and felt yourself worry. If your first heat was anything to go by… “Do you think… the others have thought about that?”

Milord paused, his lights contracting as he grasped your meaning. “I’ve do doubt they’ve considered it, but again, it’s highly unlikely we could ever conceive with you. There has never been a hybrid between our kind so it’s more believable that my brothers think it impossible.” 

“But you think it’s possible?” you asked slowly, not wanting him to misread your intent with the question. 

Milord took a textbook off the stack and opened it as he sat beside you. “Life is full of decisions, Zeta. Do you want to deny your urges for a few days to ensure you are safe, or take a risk, no matter how improbable the odds, in favor of immediate satisfaction?”

You sighed and slouched in your chair. Even if it was unlikely, you were glad that you never gave in to your desires during your heat. Your slip-up would’ve been a lot scarier if you had. “You’re right…”

“I’m very rarely wrong.” Milord smirked, grabbed a notebook, and flipped to an empty page. He rested a hand on your back as you sat up and pulled the math book closer with a flick of his lavender magic. “Now, if you want the chance to try and best me at chess later, we better begin.”

You bent over your books together, delving into the difficult problems. It wasn’t long before you were gritting your teeth in frustration as, rather than just explaining everything as he did the problems, Milord had decided that it would be you explaining to him. If you got something wrong, he would correct you, but then he made you explain why it was that way.

“I want to ensure you are absorbing this information,” he said with a smirk as you finally snapped at him to just explain. “If you cannot repeat it back to me, you do not understand it.”

“But you’re here, you understand it!” you groaned and slouched in your chair again. “I just want to get it done!”

“You will be tested on this, correct?” Milord pulled you back up by your arm and shoved the pencil back in your hand. “I won’t be there to hold your hand when that happens. You can do it, just focus.”

~~~

It was to your immense delight when, hours later, Milord finally closed the books and allowed you to be done. He had insisted on going over extra problems to ensure you understood things and your brain already felt like it had yesterday after a day’s worth of study.

He picked up the book on law and you groaned. You didn’t want to keep working, especially when you didn’t understand that subject, either. To your surprise, he turned the book over while he examined it and said coolly, “I will have you wait on this, if your deadline allows it. I took the liberty of browsing it while I waited for you to come downstairs. The complexity of your laws suggests that I’m required to examine them in their entirety if I’m to assist you.”

“But I’m only working on one,” you pointed out as you cleared your calculus work away.

“That may be,” Milord glared at the book, his tone icy, “but you humans have such a convoluted system. There are loopholes and amendments that affect other laws, not to mention your governing body has so many checks and balances against itself that I’m astounded that it manages to accomplish anything. When is your deadline?”

“Well, I only need to turn in the outline for my paper for my midterm.” You said, thinking as you sipped the last cold dregs of your coffee. “Those are the week after next, and my finals aren’t until the end of spring; in May. But I have spring break after midterms! We could work on the paper then, I’ll have loads of free time!”

“You will be busy.” Milord shook his skull at the thought. “This will not be easy, you will need to put in extra effort during those days if you want this law changed. Have you considered at all how you will sway public opinion?”

“Yes, I have,” you said and pulled the wooden box over to set up the board. “I’ll be staying late after my classes next week to work on that, so let me worry about that while you help me figure out the legal jargon.”

“I ask for my benefit, as well.” Milord helped you set up the pieces, but this time he took the white ones instead of the black. “You are not the only one making this kind of effort.”

“Well, I’ll have to start with a petition to the government,” you said, waiting for Milord to make his move, “I’ll have to talk to people to get signatures, so I can use that to start raising awareness and hopefully get people to second guess the law.”

“That might work for you, but I can’t very well open up a dialogue with every monster in the Underground.” Milord sighed and moved a pawn forward. “I don’t have the time.”

“What about something like a meeting?” You asked, moving a knight out from behind your rows of pawns. “I know I need to see if it’s possible first, at least on my side with the segregation law and everything, but if I can get enough interest going I wanted to see if I could invite one of you guys to campus to meet the other students.”

“I don’t foresee that going well.” Milord moved his queen to the middle of the board, making you wonder what piece of yours he was after. “Most monsters hate humans and humans are terrified of monsters. At least,” he added with a smirk at you, “most humans are.”

“That’s the point of the petition.” You moved your knight to go after his neglected bishop. “I want to get people curious and ask about how they would feel about meeting a monster in person. Most people have never even seen one at a distance, so I feel like they might jump at the chance to sate their curiosity. And if a meet went really well, I think most people would see that the law is unreasonable.”

Milord steepled his gloved fingers thoughtfully and contemplated the board. Judging by the length in which his purple lights stared at his white pawns, you figured he wasn’t just thinking about his next move in chess.

Silence stretched between you and you wondered if you should ask him what he was thinking, or planning, behind those flickering purple lights of his. You were in this together, right? You were a team, now. He let you make him part of the pack. Speaking of…

“Milord?”

“Hm?” He hummed, still staring at the chessboard, lost in thought.

“I know last night that you were hesitant to take my mark since others might see it,” you picked up your mug and looked into its depths. “While I understand your reasoning, did you think that applied to Mutt and Axe, too?”

Milord looked up from the board, his purple lights staring into your eyes.

“I’m going to tell them,” you said gently, hoping that he hadn’t planned on keeping this a secret from his brothers. Even so, you hastened to convince him that it was a good idea. “We don’t keep things like this from each other. I don’t want secrets between us that would tear us apart. We can’t work together if we don’t know each other.”

He sighed and ran one of his gloved hands over the side of his skull. “I suppose hiding my mark would put quite a damper on your communication rule, wouldn’t it? What are you going to tell them when they ask about me?”

“I don’t know,” you shrugged. Milord quirked his bony brow at you in surprise. “I was just going to tell them we talked.”

“You haven’t thought about it at all?” Milord asked, a hint of frosty irritation in his voice as he moved his remaining bishop across the board. “You did not consider, before you marked me, what your other betas might think of your choice, or speak with them before pursuing me?”

“Um, no,” your cheeks turned pink at his implication that you were breaking your own rule on communication. “I didn’t exactly plan on marking you last night, so I never spoke with them about it. But Mutt’s already told me he wants me to find more betas, and Axe doesn’t seem like he would mind too much either about who I would choose.”

“If you had spoken with them, you would know that’s untrue,” he sighed and picked up his mug to swirl its contents. “Mutt will not be pleased that I’ve been marked by you. Though I know he respects you, he will not make this new dynamic easy with my addition.”

“Then why don’t I get us all together later, just us four?” You moved your castle behind a wall of pawns, to protect it from Milord’s queen. “I can tell them, and if there are any unsaid things, we can work it all out together.”

“Do as you like, you are the alpha.” Milord shrugged and took the pawn you had sacrificed to save your castle. “Ultimately, you are the dominant force in this relationship; though I know you wish to remain considerate of your betas. So if you are planning a meeting between us, I need to know the time.”

You nodded, knowing that he did not want to be disturbed after he had gone back to work. “Just after lunch, then. I’d rather do it sooner than later. Once everyone starts to wake up, we can all go up to my room and-”

“No.” Milord firmly interrupted. “We won’t do it there. The scent of our act has not yet dissipated from that space. We have already taken precautions on keeping our claim of each other private by showering, why would you want to advertise it after the fact? Isn’t it one of your rules to refrain from bragging?”

“Then, where?” You felt the color return to your face. Even though you knew about their sense of smell, and how powerful it was, it was still hard to keep it in mind at all times since you didn’t have that sense yourself. Did your room really still smell like that, even the morning after? What else did they pick up on, that you hadn’t even thought twice about?

“There is the kitchen.” Milord suggested as he moved his knight around, taking your pieces. “This area will be free when my brothers dissipate after lunch. We will all be here already, however there is the chance we could be overheard since the sound carries into the entryway. Otherwise, you could request Mutt or Axe’s room. I will not offer mine.”

“Well, if it can’t be my room,” you said slowly, thinking hard on your decision, “then I’d like to do the living room. It’s usually empty and won’t be overheard if everyone’s going back upstairs after lunch. Not to mention it’s a neutral space.”

“Now you’re thinking ahead.” Milord smirked and backed his knight off as you went after it with your castle.

“So, why do you seem so sure Mutt will be upset about your mark?” you asked as you sipped the last of your coffee. Milord’s gaze fell to the chessboard. His purple lights flickered softly like they did when he was deep in thought and you wondered what was on his mind. It didn’t seem likely it was because of his relationship with his brother. Even though Milord was stern, he had done a lot to show Mutt that he cared about him. He saved his life.

Or, you wondered as the silence stretched on, could it be something about what he told you last night? He had mentioned he had an ex alpha and you knew he had given Mutt a lecture on taking care of you when he had found out about his brother becoming marked. 

As you opened your mouth to ask him about that, you caught movement out of the corner of your eye as Pap strode into the kitchen. He saw you and said brightly, “GOOD MORNING!”

“Hey, Pap!” you smiled, turning in your seat.

“Morning, Papyrus.” Milord mumbled, finally surfacing from his thoughts. He moved his next piece on the chess board as Pap did a double take on his way to the counter. Pap’s white lights stared at his brother, then wandered over the textbooks before finally settling on the chess board. Milord, unaware of the confusion on Pap’s skull as he watched you both play, took your castle and asked, “Will you be attempting to copy Zeta’s latte, again? I could use another cup.”

At the flick of a gloved finger, the two mugs on the table drifted into the air on a cloud of lavender plasma. The smell of frost floated past you with the cups as they hovered in front of Pap, waiting to be taken. Pap’s lights narrowed and his jaw fell open slightly in bewilderment as he caught the empty mugs in his mittens. “HOW LONG HAVE YOU TWO BEEN UP?”

“The crack of dawn.” you yawned, moving your castle just in time to save it. Milord countered by taking your knight instead. “Milord said I had to finish my homework before we could play chess.”

“YOU’RE… PLAYING A GAME?” Pap tilted his skull at his brother, his voice skeptical.

“Well, it is his day off.” You smiled at Pap, who’s lights widened with sudden surprise.

“Half day,” Milord corrected you, taking your other bishop and placing his queen in position. “Checkmate.”

“Oh, come on!” You growled, seeing that he had somehow cornered you yet again.

Milord finally looked up, smirking in victory, and saw Pap just standing there in shock. “Would you like to have a match instead, Papyrus? I’ll teach you the rules.”

“WHAT’S GOTTEN INTO YOU?” Pap said curiously to Milord and approached the table, some of his initial shock waning. “YOU’RE ACTING REALLY WEIRD.”

“I have no idea what you’re insinuating.” Milord started to move the pieces on the board back to their starting place while Pap sat across the table from him. You got up, smiling, with the intent to make lattes while they had their game.

“YOU DON’T USUALLY ASK ME FOR COFFEE,” Pap said, his eye lights narrowed again as Milord started to point out the pieces and explain, “AND YOU NEVER PLAY GAMES.”

“Zeta requested that I take some time off and I’m only doing it so she will stop pestering me about it. Now if you want to learn, shut up and pay attention.” Milord snapped, cold lacing his voice. The return to Milord’s usual chilly demeanor seemed to reassure Pap and he stopped talking so that he could hear all of the rules.

The smile on your face slowly started to shrink as you listened to the conversation behind you. You set a pan filled with water on the stove and wondered: had you ever seen two of the brothers interact like this outside of meal times? There was Axe and Butch for an example, but other than that… everyone seemed to live separate lives.

While you pulled out the espresso and filters, your mind drifted to the living room. Why did it always seem empty? There were the rare occasions you found Sans, Mutt, or Red napping on the couches, but nobody ever really went in there.

An idea hit you. Your smile returned and your face lit up. You knew what you could do for the house as a gift, as a way to bring everyone else a bit closer together.

A pair of hands snaked around your stomach and you squealed in surprise, knocking the funnel filled with spent grounds all over the counter. You heard a slow chuckle in your ear, and the whisper of, “...caught you.”

“Axe, you imbecile!” Milord snapped. You looked over your shoulder past Axe’s shining red light. Both Milord and Pap had jumped to their feet at your fright. Pap looked irritated, Milord looked furious.

“WHAT ARE YOU DOING?” Pap made a grab for the back of Axe’s hoodie, but Axe spun you around and held you in front of him like a shield.

“...practicing.” Axe laughed, amused by his brothers’ irritation. “...you both… are so easy… to sneak past.”

“Practicing for what, precisely?” Milord’s purple lights narrowed and his gloved hands clenched into fists as he eyed Axe’s arms wrapped around your stomach.

“I mean, it was a good prank!” you forced a laugh, gently undoing Axe’s grip. You didn’t want a fight between any of them, not when Axe didn’t even know there was another member of your pack. “He really got me good!”

“PLEASE DON’T TELL ME WE HAVE ANOTHER PRANKSTER IN THE HOUSE.” Pap sighed and sat back down. “SANS IS BAD ENOUGH. AT LEAST HONEY IS DISTRACTING HIM WITH THEIR PRANK WAR.”

“Papyrus, that would insinuate there is, in fact, another prankster.” Milord said coldly, noting that you were putting distance between yourself and Axe, and sat back down. 

“BUT HONEY IS ALRIGHT, SHE ONLY PRANKS SANS.” Pap pointed out as Milord resumed their game by moving his knight. The board was already missing most of the black pieces.

“It had better stay that way.” Milord glanced up at you as you brought him a latte and Pap a hot chocolate. Axe trailed after you closely, carrying your mug in his hands.

“...actually I… wanted to talk… to you.” Axe handed you the mug, his vacant grin smiling up at you. You blinked in surprise, wondering if Axe already knew what had happened between you and Milord, and let him drag you into the entrance hall by your hand.

“What’s up?” you asked nervously, fiddling with the latte in your hands.

“...I want to know… if I can talk… about us.” Axe shifted on his copper slippers and shoved his hands into the pockets of his threadbare, blue hoodie. He looked slightly nervous, too. “...after you… asked Butch if he… wanted to… join the pack he… asked me what it… was like. ...I didn’t know… if I said anything… if you would think… of it as bragging.”

“Oh is that it?” you sighed in relief, “Of course you can, I thought…”

Axe tiled his skull at you as you turned pink. His smile fell and his red light flickered in an agitated sort of way. “...thought what?”

“That..” You paused, wondering if you should just tell Axe about Milord now. But then what was the point of a meeting later on? Mutt would be really upset if he was the only one finding out the news. Maybe half of it wouldn’t be so bad, you didn’t like the hard look in Axe’s eye light. ”That you found out I added a new member to the pack. I actually wanted to tell you that we’re going to do a meeting in the living room after lunch, to talk things over and make sure that we’re all okay with this.”

“....really?” Axe’s light widened with surprise. “...I thought, for sure… you would… go after Butch next.”

“Well, it’s not like I haven’t tried...” Your pink face started to turn more red as you realized that if anyone would know right away about Butch being marked, it would be Axe. But you hadn’t been able to mark him yet. You had tried, looking back, to ask him if he wanted that when you had first become an alpha. Then you actually did the other day, but he ran away. “I just don’t want to push him into it right now. I know how shy he is and I care too much about him to drive him away by being too forward. I m-mean I tried, you saw that, but it didn’t go so well...”

“...so how did… the new one... happen?” Axe asked, smirking at you as his eye light softened.

“It just kind of… did,” you felt your face flush as you remembered the night before. “I don’t exactly plan these things out.”

“...as long as… he makes you happy.” Axe shrugged, seeming to not care too much about the new beta in the pack. “...but if you… want Butch, too… then you need to… go after him. ...he won’t… come to you… like that.”

“I’m glad you’re taking this so well,” you shifted on your feet and sipped at your latte to hide your face, “but I just added someone else. I don’t know how this is going to change our pack dynamic. Shouldn’t I let it settle before adding Butch?”

“...you’re the alpha.” Axe shrugged again, a mischievous grin growing on his skull. “...but if you… don’t do it soon… I’m going to… lock you both… in my room… until you do.”

“Axe, you can’t do that!” you narrowed your eyes at him, your whole face flushed as he leaned in to you.

“...watch me.” Axe said as he gave you a small kiss. His red light shined and he grinned evilly as he pulled away and headed back towards the kitchen, calling back to you over his shoulder. “...you’re just as… bad as he is… sometimes.”

You pulled at your face, wondering how serious Axe was about his threat. Considering that it was him… very. Taking another sip of your latte, to steady your nerves and let your face color return to normal, you returned to the kitchen.

Axe had taken a seat next to Pap and was watching as he and Milord had a heated discussion over the chess board.

“-JUST DON’T GET HOW YOU BEAT ME SO QUICKLY!” Pap grumbled and gestured at the board with his mittened hands.

“I told you, stop focusing on one piece at a time.” Milord sighed irritably and shook his skull. “Conquering your enemy requires strategy, where you utilize all pieces to accomplish your goal. You’ll never achieve victory if you don’t think more than two steps ahead.”

“If it makes you feel better, Pap,” you chimed in, sitting next to Milord in your previous spot, “I can’t beat him either.”

Pap grinned at you, appreciating your honesty. ‘WELL, I’M GOING TO GET HIM ONE OF THE PUZZLE BOXES YOU GAVE ME! LET’S SEE HOW SMART HE IS ONCE HE’S STUMPED BY THAT!”

Pap stormed from the room, determined to best Milord at something. You grinned and sipped your latte again, mumbling into the mug, “Having fun, Milord?”

Milord quirked a bony brow at you, his eye lights flickering in a strange way. “Set up the board, Zeta. I’d rather have you as my opponent from now on.”

Across from you, Axe put an elbow on the table and rested his skull in his hand, smirking at the two of you. Milord caught the look and snapped coldly, “What are you staring at?!”

“...welcome to the… pack.” Axe said, his smirk widening as Milord bristled.

“You told him?” Milord hissed, turning towards you as you froze in surprise. You hadn’t said anything that might let Axe know who you had marked. Did you miss a spot when you showered? “What was the point of a meeting if you were just going to do it anyways?”

“I-I didn’t…” you stuttered, unable to think of how to defend yourself under Milord’s piercing glare.

“...she didn’t tell.” Axe rolled his single light at Milord and drew his attention away from you. “...she only said… there was someone… new. ...you just… told me. ...it’s obvious… you’ve been avoiding… her for days and… now you’re suddenly… talking again and… playing a game… with her? ...I’m not… stupid.”

“Come on, it’s just between the pack,” you said, setting a gentle hand on Milord’s shoulder as he rose from his seat to leave. “No one else is going to figure it out, Milord, and you promised me you would take a half day off.”

Milord looked from Axe, to your touch, and gave a heavy sigh as he sat back down. “See to it that this stays between your pack, Zeta, or I won’t be pleased in the slightest.”

“...don’t be… so worried.” Axe said in his usual slow, deliberate matter. “...Willow takes… very good care… of us. ...she won’t… let anything happen… to you.”

You sent Axe a smile, thankful that he was helping you reassure Milord. Knowing that he supported your choice made you feel confident. Even if he did threaten to lock you in a room with Butch if you didn’t mark him soon.

“HA!” Pap slid back into the kitchen, holding his puzzle high with a triumphant look on his skull. “LET’S SEE YOU SOLVE THIS, YOU SUPPOSED GENIUS!”

You leaned back as Pap reached across you and dropped a rubix cube into Milord’s lap. He picked it up, his purple lights narrowed curiously. “What is the purpose?”

“TO OPEN IT!” Pap laughed, sure that Milord would never be able to do such a thing. But the point of a rubix cube was not to open it, it wasn’t that kind of puzzle. Did Pap know that?

“You’re actually supposed to, um,” you glanced nervously at Pap, hoping that you wouldn’t embarrass him by saying this, “match the colors on each side.”

“I THOUGHT THAT MIGHT BE THE KEY TO GET IT OPEN,” Pap nodded and resumed his spot next to Axe, “BUT I’VE ONLY MANAGED TO GET TWO SIDES TO MATCH SO FAR. IT IS VERY DIFFICULT.”

“That’s more than me.” You smiled and moved the chessboard between you and Pap. Milord was already busying himself with the cube, testing the way it moved, his lights bright with excitement for something difficult to solve. With a look at Axe, you offered, “Do you want to learn to play chess?”

“...no.” Axe shook his skull. “...I’ll watch.”

“YOU KNOW WHO WE SHOULD TEACH TO PLAY?” Pap smirked, his white lights glancing over at Milord, “SANS. I BET HE COULD BEAT MILORD AT THIS GAME.”

Milord scoffed and shifted the rubix cube to his lap while he spun in between his gloved fingers, the colors a blur as they moved. “I’d be astonished if you could get that sloth to stay awake long enough to learn the rules.”

“That might actually be a pretty good matchup for you, Milord.” you said thoughtfully, thinking about it. “Sans knows quantum theory, so he’s got to be smart enough to give you a challenge.”

“He comprehends such a difficult subject?” Milord looked up from the half finished cube, his bony brow lifted in surprise. “Since when?”

“I don’t know.” you looked to Pap for help, “When did he learn that? It was before I met him.”

“I HAD NO IDEA HE EVEN KNEW SOMETHING LIKE THAT,” Pap shrugged, his brow furrowed, “I JUST KNOW HE’S GOOD AT SOLVING DIFFICULT PUZZLES THAT I CAN’T.”

“...and he always knows… what to do… when strange things happen.” Axe added.

“I’ll admit, he has uncanny insight that toes the border on unnatural.” Milord returned to the cube with narrowed lights. “It doesn’t matter. I don’t care to play against him.”

“ARE YOU SCARED YOU’LL LOSE?” Pap smirked, earning an icy glare from Milord.

“What if we have a prize at the end?” You said quickly, before sparks could fly. “Whoever wins gets to choose dessert for tonight?”

With a shrug and a defeated sort of sigh, Milord said, “If you can convince him to leave his hovel and stay awake for the duration of the match, then I will accept his challenge.”

“YOU SHOULD GO GET HIM, HONEY.” Pap nodded to you, though his voice sounded as though his usual confidence had wavered slightly. “HE GETS PRETTY UPSET IF ANYONE WAKES HIM UP WITHOUT A GOOD REASON, ESPECIALLY AFTER HE GETS HOME FROM WORK, BUT HE LIKES YOU.”

“...tell him… to pick cinnamon rolls… if he wins.” Axe said with a small, hopeful tilt of his skull.

“I’ll ask him, how about that?” You offered, glancing at Milord as he worked the rubix cube in his lap. To your surprise, he had finished it already, but he looked it over for only a moment before glancing up at Pap and starting to undo the solved cube.

You turned to the entryway, feeling a warm glow of affection in your chest. A smile tugged at your cheeks as you wondered if your dad, a chess master himself, would’ve been able to beat Milord. Or if Axe would go nuts for your mom’s desserts, and if she would have as much fun cooking with Pap as you did…

If your parents had met all of the brothers, you could guess what their reactions to the others might be. Mom would fawn over Butch and would want to brag to Mutt about how fast her new laptop was. Dad would make dumb jokes with Sans and show Red his huge collection of classic rock cds and his guitar. You chuckled to yourself, imagining them arguing over who was better, Avenged Sevenfold or Queen.

And even if Edge still was a bit prickly with you, you were sure that your parents would have opened their hearts to him, too. Especially if they knew how hard you were trying with him. Maybe your mom with her gentle teachings would’ve reached him, or your dad’s stern guidance.

Either way, you thought as you topped the oak stairs and wiped at your watery eyes, you knew they would be happy you had found this place and this family.

You tried so hard to push away the echoes of your conversation last night. Of the thought of what could happen and that you might lose this, your family, all over again if your efforts weren’t enough.

As your green sleeve left your face, you just happened to glance at the floor of the hallway. What you saw made you stop and stare. Though it was hard to see in the sunlight, yellow plasma was curling across the wood. 

You slowly walked through the barely visible magic and it parted around your ankles as you moved. The first thought you had was Butch, and you looked down the hall towards his room, but the magic didn’t go that far. Not to mention that his new magic was gold, not this neon yellow. Something about it made the hair on your arms stand up. 

But it was just magic, right? Just one of the brothers. Though who, you couldn’t guess.

Kneeling, you swiped a hand through the plasma and tried to cautiously waft it towards your face. If you could place the scent, you could place who it belonged to. With a jolt of confusion, you realized it had no smell at all. Your eyes traced the swirls the plasma made as it flowed and followed it back to a crack under a door. You looked up and down the hall, counting the doors to the one you stood in front of.

Sans’ room.

Was he having a color change? You felt your heart leap in your chest and pound with anxiety. Your hand shook slightly as it slowly turned his doorknob, knowing that you had to be cautious in case he was summoning in his sleep, and quietly entered his room.

His dirty room glowed with the yellow magic hovering like a thick, semi-transparent fog across the floor. The light threw everything into odd contrast. Nothing had a shadow, not the trash or broken dresser or the mountain of socks, and it all looked unnaturally flat. Sans himself was laying on his bare mattress, flat on his back, with a thin trail of that yellow plasma leaking from his left socket despite both of his sockets being closed in sleep. 

“Sans?” you whispered, your voice trembling slightly with your growing fear. Should you get one of the others? Something about this didn’t seem right.

At your voice the yellow plasma vanished and you saw Sans twitch just before darkness swallowed the room once more. You froze, your pulse racing and your heart pounding in your ears as you stared into the black.

A pair of foggy, white lights appeared in the dark as Sans opened his sockets. They drifted until they found you in the blackness and slowly sharped as Sans woke up. “kid? what are you doing in here?”

Maybe it was because that yellow plasma vanished so quickly that you questioned whether or not you saw it at all. Or maybe it was because Sans sounded so normal even though you knew he hadn’t seen his room just now like you had. Or maybe it was because your nerves were already standing on end, but you shivered in fear.

“what’s wrong?” Sans asked, his low voice filled with concern. You heard the creak from the mattress as he moved and saw his lights rise as he stood. “why are you so scared, kid? did something happen?”

“What…?” you whispered, finally finding your voice again at the use of that strange, old nickname. Didn’t he like to call you Thyme? You felt something touch you and you jumped in fright.

“easy, it’s just me.” you heard Sans’ low voice say and felt his touch on your arm again. “what’s wrong?”

“W-what was that?” you asked, a little louder as you felt your hands tremble. He would tell you what was happening. He could tell you how this was normal and make you feel better. “Are you having a color change?”

“huh?” The white lights moved as Sans tilted his skull in confusion. “who’s changing?”

“You?” you questioned, unsure, and Sans chuckled.

The smell of damp wood filled your nose and a blue glow lit up the dark. You could see Sans now, his usual lazy grin on his skull, as he held a ball of swirling plasma in one hand for you to see. “still blue. why would you think I’m changing?”

“I saw yellow…” You furrowed your brow in confusion and stared at the magic in his palm. “It was drifting out from under your door. It was leaking from your socket and filling your room...”

“oh.” Sans withdrew his touch from your arm and stuffed his hand in his pocket. The magic in his other hand swirled like a whirlpool. “don’t worry about it.”

“What do you mean, don’t worry? How can I not?” You asked, concern filling your voice, “Do you have two colors of magic? Or was it something else?”

“I only have one color, and I said don’t worry about it.” Sans said firmly, his white lights narrowing at you. “how did you get in my room, anyway? I lock my door when I sleep.”

“It was open…” you wrapped your arms around yourself, still nervous. But why? This was Sans, you trusted him. Why were you.... “Sans, please, tell me what that magic was. I’m scared.”

As he looked into your eyes with those white lights, you felt like he knew the words you had held back. You were scared of him, of that other magic that came from him, and you didn’t know why.

Sans remained silent and stared at you. Was he scared, too?

“I’ve seen that color before.” you said quietly, the memory coming back to you. “In your eye light when you looked for Edge and checked over Butch. That’s when you looked at their souls, right? Does it have something to do with that?”

“it’s... difficult to explain.” Sans said slowly and the blue plasma in his hand jumped around his palm like an agitated ferrofluid. “just know that yellow stuff you saw is harmless. it can’t hurt you, so don’t be upset.”

“But what is it?” you asked, wanting to understand so you could banish the fear you felt. “Why do you have it?”

Sans’ low voice had a hardness to it, one that let you hear the anger he was trying to hide. “I don’t want to talk about it anymore, alright?”

You looked at Sans, your chest tight. He was being so secretive with you. It wasn’t like him, he usually explained everything. Especially after he told you about the timelines. Maybe this had something to do with that? Worried, you asked gently, “Are you okay?”

“I’m fine.” Sans gave you a lazy grin, despite the hardness still in his voice. “trust me about this.”

You stared at him for a long while, at the blue tint on his skull from his magic, then nodded. He gave a small sigh of relief and reached for your arm. You let him.

“just do me one favor, kid,” he asked, giving you a squeeze, “and don’t mention this to my brothers? they think I’m a freak of nature as it is.”

You looked away. His brothers were downstairs, waiting for you to bring him back for a game of chess. It felt strange to think about now.

Though you couldn’t shake a bad feeling, you left the matter alone. If Sans said not to worry, then you should try not to. He had been right about everything else so far. Even if he didn’t want to talk about it now, you wanted time to think before you tried asking your questions again. There were so many things to mull over before you brought him questions. Mainly, that yellow magic and why it made you so afraid.

That, and you could tell he was getting angry with your questions. For all his jokes and laid back attitude, it seemed like such a thing was impossible; but that only made the idea of him getting mad all the more frightening. Even Edge knew not to piss off Sans and Edge wasn’t afraid of anybody.

“I won’t tell,” you said timidly and glanced back towards his white lights, “but you’ll have to come downstairs with me. I told your brothers I would get you for a game of chess, and I’ve been gone so long they’ll ask why I didn’t come back with you. You know I can’t just lie; they’ll hear the mismatched intent.”

“they want me to play chess?” Sans asked as you opened his door. The bright light seared your night vision and you closed your eyes against it.

“Yeah, Pap wants to see if you can beat Milord.” you explained as you wandered into the bright hall, blinking spots from your eyes. You really needed to get Sans a light bulb. “Winner gets to choose dessert.”

You turned to Sans, to ask if he knew how to play the game and return yourself to normalcy, and saw him standing still in the hallway. He had his arm up and was turning his wrist over, staring at the plastic bracelet you had made him.

“hey, Thyme,” he mumbled, still staring at the piece of plastic. “do you want to… talk later? about what happened?”

You looked at the bracelet. Understanding dawned on you about some of his strange behavior; about why he had called you kid and seemed so secretive. “You didn’t know what timeline we were in, did you?”

Sans shamefully avoided your gaze as you reached out to take his hand. “...no.”

Slowly, you brought your other arm up and pulled him into you. His attitude towards you made so much more sense. He wouldn’t tell you anything if he was afraid it would scare you, and he wouldn’t let down his guard if he didn’t remember how close you had become. 

Sans sighed heavily against you and leaned his skull on your shoulder as you held him. “Later is fine, Sans. When you’re ready.”

“thanks for not pushing it in the moment. I would’ve gotten really angry with you if you did.” The arm with the bracelet wrapped around your waist. “and that stuff you saw… you don’t have to be scared. I promise. it can’t hurt you.”

You gave him a small, reassuring squeeze. He was the Sans you knew again, now that he had grounded himself in the current moment. If he wanted to talk later, that was okay. At least he was willing to talk. You took his hand and pulled him towards the stairs, wanting to distract him from his pain. “So did you ever learn how to play chess?”

“yup.” Sans nodded, his smile returning with the change in topic, and stuck his free hand in his pockets as he followed you down the oak steps. “there was a time where you bought a bunch of board games to try and get us all to spend more time together.”

You turned your gaze from the empty living room, back at him, and froze. He couldn’t know about your idea, you hadn’t told anyone. Then again, you might’ve already tried this in a different timeline. You narrowed your eyes at him, trying to see if he could read your mind, but his expression was unreadable past that lazy grin of his. “...did it work?”

“for some of us.” Sans shrugged. “but movies worked better. it’s the only way we get to see into your world.”

“Hopefully, that won’t always be the case.” You smiled, thankful for the tip (even if he might not know you needed it) and pulled him into the noisy kitchen.

“Finally!” Milord huffed irritably, throwing his hands up as you tugged Sans through the archway by his blue sleeve. “I hope you’re happy, Zeta, your lengthy delay has allowed an audience to gather!”

As Pap got up to offer Sans his seat across from Milord, you spotted the new arrivals. Butch had taken the seat next to Axe and gave you a small, shy wave. On Butch’s other side, Mutt was staring at Milord with a bewildered look upon his skull.

“I still can’t believe she talked you into this.” Mutt’s raspy voice said, laced with disbelief as he shook his skull. “You never take time off. Or play games. How did she talk you into it?”

“Mind your own business, mongrel.” Milord snapped, his purple lights narrowing. Axe gave a slow, knowing chuckle and Mutt raised his brow at him.

“...she’ll tell you… later.” Axe mumbled to him. Rather than look reassured, Mutt’s lights only narrowed further as he leaned back into his chair to stare between you and Milord.

“DO YOU KNOW HOW TO PLAY, SANS?” Pap asked, his excitement apparent by the broad grin stretched across his skull. Sans shook his head, allowing Pap to gleefully launch into an explanation of the rules.

“I did not want this to become an event, Zeta.” Milord hissed to you, his voice cold and quiet, as you took the seat beside him. You noticed that the rubix cube sat on the table next to Pap, only three of its sides completed.

“It’s not so bad, is it?” You asked quietly, leaning slightly so that you could keep the conversation private. “They clearly just want to spend time with you. Don’t you want that, too?”

“My assumption,” Milord said flatly, ignoring your last question, “is that Papyrus wishes to see me bested and that desire has infected the others.”

“Maybe,” you giggled, glancing at Pap as he explained the game to Sans. Butch was watching the board as well, across from Axe, with a curious gleam in his white lights. “But it’s all in good fun. There’s nothing wrong with a little healthy competition.”

“Do you want that as well?” Milord turned his lights on you. “This match?”

“I’d like to see you have a challenge, sure.” You smiled, glancing at Pap as he started to wrap up his explanation of the rules. “I know how easy it is for you to beat me and that you hold back so I enjoy it, too. You’re too smart for your own good, Milord. Just try to relax and have fun while your brothers try to beat you.”

A small dusting of lavender appeared on his nasal ridge at your compliment, which he quickly hid with his gloved hand. Milord snapped at his opponent, his tone icy to make up for the slip in his facade, “Are you adequately prepared now, vanilla, or should I postpone this match for a fortnight while you sleep on a decision?”

“trying to put off what’s a-pawn you?” Sans smirked, choosing the black pieces as he spun the board with his blue magic.

“When I win,” Milord matched his brother’s smirk and moved a knight out from behind the white line. “You won’t utter a single, obnoxious pun for a month and you’ll take up my duties cleaning the house for a week.”

“And when I win,” Sans’ white lights shined, “you  _ don’t _ clean anything for a week, and you have to make one joke a day for a month.”

Milord bristled with indignity and leaned towards the board, serious about the game with it’s higher stakes. The low lull of conversation around the table turned into a buzz of excitement as the match finally began.

Pap scooted around the table, tapped you on the shoulder, and gestured towards the counter. “HELP ME MAKE SOME SNACKS QUICK.”

“Should we go get Red and Edge?” you asked as Pap started pulling bags out of the pantry, piling chips and sweets in your waiting arms. “I think they would have fun being a part of this, too.”

“EH, EDGE WOULD BE VERY ANGRY IF WE WOKE HIM UP AT THIS HOUR.” Pap went into the cupboards, to find bowls, and hesitated. “AND YOU KNOW THAT RED AND MILORD DON’T MIX WELL. EVEN IF MILORD IS IN A STRANGELY GOOD MOOD, I DON’T THINK THAT WOULD LAST IF RED STARTED ANTAGONIZING HIM.”

As you tore open a bag of chocolate candy and dumped it into a bowl, the table behind you buzzed as Sans managed to take the first piece. You stared at the candy, your chest tight, and admitted to Pap, “I just don’t want anyone to feel left out.”

Pap ruffled your hair with his mitten. You looked up to him, glowing with affection, and the grin you had fell just slightly at the look on his skull. He had only a half smile, like it was strained, and his white lights sputtered slightly. “Pap? What’s wrong?”

He glanced over his shoulder, back where his brothers were busy with the competition, and he shrugged. His loud voice had turned into a whisper as he said, “I DIDN’T KNOW SANS KNEW SOMETHING LIKE THAT. I THOUGHT I KNEW EVERYTHING ABOUT HIM.”

“I don’t think there’s anyone who knows everything about him,” you said and put a reassuring hand on his arm.

“BUT IT’S ME.” Pap sighed and opened another bag of chips. “HE SHARES EVERYTHING WITH ME. HE ALWAYS HAS.”

“Maybe he has a good reason?” You asked, thinking about the timelines. What would Pap do if he had been told something like that? How would he take it, if he was upset about Sans hiding something like his knowledge on quantum theory?

“IT BETTER BE A GOOD ONE.” Pap huffed and handed you a pair of snack bowls. 

“He loves you, Pap.” you reassured him as he stacked a third and fourth bowl on top of the two you carried already. If Pap ever found out about the timelines and how lost Sans was; to know he couldn’t change anything… it would just hurt him. And if he ever found out that your many deaths were the cause of all that... “He wouldn’t keep something from you if he knew you could help.”

Pap’s grin finally returned as he took a pair of bowls of his own. “THANKS, HONEY. AND YOU REALLY SHOULDN’T WAKE EDGE UP, HE’D BE FURIOUS AT YOU.”

While you helped Pap bring the bowls of snacks to the table, you added, “I understand that, but I’m going to at least ask Red if he wants to come down. He’s a part of the family, too.”

“thanks Lily…” Butch looked up at you, a lopsided smile on his face, as you set a bowl of chips down between him and Axe. Axe immediately grabbed a fistful and stuffed them into the void behind his jaws, his red light shining at you.

“IF THAT’S WHAT YOU WANT.” Pap said cheerfully, setting a bowl near Mutt, who watched you quietly as you moved around the table distributing snacks.

“You think your insight can match my wit?” Milord gloated, moving towards Sans’ castle as you set a helping of candy between them. “You appear to be losing, vanilla.”

“not to-knight.” Sans grinned, taking the piece featured in his pun.

You smiled and quietly slipped out of the kitchen as the noise level rose a couple notches. (“GO AFTER HIS QUEEN, SANS, THAT ONE IS PARTICULARLY TROUBLESOME!”) There was no way you were going to let Red miss this. He wanted to be a part of things, too, you knew he did. He just might need a bit of gentle guidance so that he didn’t, as he put it, fuck it up.

“Hey, Robin, hold up.”

You paused on the stairs, your hand on the spiraling banister, as Mutt jogged down the hall from the kitchen to meet you. The zipper on his black hoodie jingled as he came to a stop at the foot of the stairs. He pulled at his orange t-shirt, his red lights darting back towards the kitchen. “What the hell is going on?”

“Huh?” You stumbled a little as Mutt reached out and pulled you back down the stairs by your arm so you were closer to him.

His eye lights glanced back towards the kitchen and his raspy voice whispered, “You don’t know how  _ bizarre _ it is to see Milord acting like this. What the hell did you do to him?”

“I just... showed him how he would benefit if he took the time to relax,” you said, your cheeks pink. “I told him what stress could do to him if he didn’t take any time for himself and he opened up to me. It wasn’t easy to convince him to do this, I’ll tell you that.”

“Seriously, you can tell me.” Mutt said, his red lights narrowing at you. “Did you have to make some kind of deal with him?”

“That conversation is private,” you shook your head, causing Mutt to narrow his lights further, in search of the lies you weren’t saying. “There’s no reason to be upset, Mutt. I wouldn’t repeat anything you said to me in confidence to anyone else, either.”

“...was it about me?” Mutt asked, his raspy voice teetering on the edge of a growl.

“No, it wasn’t.” You reached over and, thanks to the additional height from the stairs, ran your fingertips across the top of his skull. “We talked about some things that were bothering him, but you’re not one of those things. Why would you think that?”

Mutt looked away from you and shifted uncomfortably on his feet. “It’s not important.”

“Are you sure? You can tell me, if you want.”

“It’s not important.” Mutt repeated with a raspy mumble, a burnt orange flush starting to surface across his cheekbones as he stared at the wall. “Sorry I got so… defensive.”

“It’s okay,” you said, now wondering what Mutt was hiding from you. You descended a stair so that you could lean over and give him a peck on his brow. “If you want to talk about it later, that’s fine. Or there’s a pack meeting after lunch in the living room.”

“Something wrong?” Mutt asked, finally looking up to meet your gaze, a curious gleam in his lights.

“No, just welcoming a new member.” You tried to say casually. “I thought it would be a good idea, now that there are four of us, to get together. If this goes well, maybe we should make it a regular thing.”

“Who’d you add?”

“I’ll tell you at the meeting.” You added, seeing the narrowing of his lights again, “I didn’t tell Axe who it was, either.”

“It it Butch?” Mutt asked. He smirked as you turned pink. “It’s totally him, isn’t it?”

“What is it with you and Axe pushing that?” You huffed, turning red. “He and I are going at our own pace so butt out, dammit!”

“It’s Pap then, isn’t it? I know he’s got a thing for you.”

“Just wait until the meeting!” You growled as Mutt pulled you in for a gentle kiss.

“You know I just like teasing you, Robin.” He breathed into you, filling you with the taste of clove. You could feel him smirk against your lips, then you squealed as he grabbed a handful of your behind. “Now go get the cranky little spitfire and be careful not to get burned.”

“I’ll show  _ you _ teasing, you-!” You started to threaten as Mutt sauntered back towards the kitchen, his raspy laugh echoing back up to the ceiling as you climbed the stairs. 

At the top of the landing you sighed and looked over the banister into the entryway. You could hear the elated sounds of the brothers drifting from the kitchen, and you wondered again why Milord had been so worried about Mutt finding out about his mark. Did if have something to do with what he was hiding just now, and would Mutt still be so good natured with you after he found out?

You turned around, to head towards Red’s room, and glanced down the empty hall. Though it was empty now, your hand came up to rest against a tightness in your chest as you remembered the yellow magic. When would you talk to Sans about it? He had only told you ‘later’ and, even though he was trying, he couldn’t be relied on too much when it came to knowing the time…

Red answered the door after the third try. He was, just as you suspected, wearing his headphones around his neck and had the volume on his cd player cranked so loud you could hear the guitar from his doorway. “sup, Dollface?”

“There’s a bit of a match downstairs,” you said, hoping you sounded cheerful after mulling over your worries. “Milord versus Sans in a game of chess. Want to come watch with everybody?”

“everyone, huh?” Red’s skull tilted and his crimson eye lights glanced at the door next to his.

“I’d invite Edge, too,” you added, catching the small motion, “but I know he doesn’t like to be woken up.”

You could see by the way his eye lights glanced at your chest that he was looking for a lie. Even when he didn’t find one, he still hesitated. In the silence, you could hear a drum solo coming from the small speakers around his neck.

“Come on,” you reached out and took his hand, pulling him towards the stairs. “It’ll be fun. No one is going to try to pick a fight with you. Even if they do, just walk away and I’ll come after you.”

“hold up jus’ a sec.” Red pulled you to a stop halfway down the stairs. He glanced over the railing at the noise and conversation echoing from below. “do they… know I, eh, hurt yeh?”

“Milord does,” you said honestly, tightening your grip on his hand as Red stiffened. “But I talked to him already. He doesn’t know what happened exactly, but he knows you didn’t mean to.”

“...an’ yeh still want me around yeh?” Red’s rough voice wavered with uncertainty.

“I wouldn’t have come to get you if it were otherwise.”

“th’ deal’s still on, then?” Red asked, looking more hopeful.

“Of course it is.” You tugged at his hand and led him down the stairs and into the entryway and added with a playful tone to your voice, “Just let us all love you, dumbass.”

~~~

Despite the speed and ease that Milord had when he had beaten you and Pap, he couldn’t seem to apply it to his match against Sans. Though they had started out the game by taking each other's pieces almost every other turn, by the time half a dozen carved players remained on the board, the pace of the game slowed to a crawl. Silence settled in the kitchen, as Milord had started to become extra snippy with anyone who interrupted his thoughts, and Sans had actually become so involved that he rested his elbows on the table with a furrowed look of concentration as he made his next move.

You and Butch left the table to prepare lunch and, much to Butch’s surprise, were shortly joined by Red. (Pap was far too invested in Sans’ victory to leave his side for more than a moment.) Red had been oddly quiet throughout the match, going so far as to ignore his brothers with a prickly silence if any of them tried to speak with him, and you thought you understood why as you directed him with helping you and Butch. Red was trying to avoid a fight.

“um... since when… does Red cook?” Butch asked you quietly as his white lights shined with curiosity at Red trying to make very messy sandwiches.

“Since he decided to try,” you shrugged, giving Butch a wink as you went to tell off Red for sneaking swigs of the ketchup.

You and Butch handed out the finished plates while Red took his seat. Thankfully, the other brothers were so focused on the tense match that no one said anything to Red about being ‘domestic’.

The whole table ate in silence as you all watched the game progress, feeling the tension between the combatants as pieces were slowly removed from the board. The plates were almost clean when there were just three pieces left, but by that point everyone had stopped eating to watch. Milord had his king and a bishop. Sans had only his king.

“This is ridiculous.” Milord snapped as he moved his bishop back and forth to try and capture Sans’ cornered king. “Just admit defeat, I have more pieces.”

“nope.” Sans shook his skull, flashing his lazy grin at Milord’s scowl, and repeated his previous move to keep his king safe.

“You cannot win at this point, by doing the same thing in an infinite loop!”

“but I can’t lose, either.”

“It looks like a stalemate, then.” You said, noting Milord’s frustration by the way he clenched his gloved fists under the table. “So you both win and lose.” 

“WELL, THAT’S DISAPPOINTING.” Pap sighed and tipped the last of his lunch into his jaws. “I THOUGHT SANS WOULD WIN. HOW DO WE DECIDE WHO GETS TO PICK DESSERT?”

“We could split it.” You glanced down the table as Mutt snickered at a disgruntled Milord. “Since it’s a tie, I’ll make something they both like.”

“...what about… their agreement?” Axe asked, eyeing Milord’s untouched plate. Neither he nor Sans had touched their food while they played, but Milord was the only one to refuse his food now that a draw had been announced. “...before the match?”

“Um…” you took the dirty plates from Butch as he and Axe gathered them and licked them clean, “How about we split that, too? Milord doesn’t clean for a week, but Sans does.”

“Why am I being punished?” Both Sans and Milord asked in unison, looking towards you with their purple and white lights.

“Would you rather do the other thing for a month?” You asked and raised an eyebrow at them, a pile of dirty plates in your hands. “I think this is fair.”

“I want a rematch.” Sans grumbled at Milord as he took a bite of his neglected lunch. “I can already see you following me everywhere, telling me how to do everything.”

“You wouldn’t require my anticipated guidance,” Milord slapped Axe’s inching hand away from his plate, “if you didn’t try to use the wrong end of a broom like a simpleton.”

“then play me again so I can sweep you under the rug.”

“Be nice, you two!” You called over your shoulder from the sink. Red snickered and got up from the table, headphones back in place over his grinning skull, and left. Butch, who was helping you by quietly drying and putting the dishes away, watched him leave from over his shoulder.

“everyone is… kind of weird today,” he noted quietly to you.

Before you could reply, Axe had snuck up behind you and snaked his hands around your waist. He whispered in your ear, “...we’ll meet you… in the living room… when you’re done.” At a curious look from Butch, he added with a smile, “...pack stuff. …I’ll tell you… about it later.”

Butch flushed gold and fumbled the plate he was holding. Axe snatched it out of the air just before it hit the ground and held it up for him to take. Butch took the plate, blushing furiously, and darted across the kitchen to put it away.

“Don’t make him uncomfortable,” you whispered to Axe, sensing a potential danger, before he walked away. “Answer his questions and nothing more, understand?”

“...okay.” Axe grinned and his red eye light flickered at you as he joined Mutt on his way out.

“THANKS FOR CLEANING UP, HONEY.” Pap said with a grin while he brought you Sans’ finished plate. “THOUGH I SUPPOSE THAT’S SANS’ DUTY, NOW.”

“Perhaps Zeta should continue to do the dishes.” Milord’s plate bumped against your shoulder, carried to you on a cloud of lavender plasma that smelled like frost. “I don’t trust Sans’ ability to sanitize properly.”

“pretty sure I could wash your mouth out.” Sans smiled at Milord’s falling smirk. “not to burst your bubble or anything.”

“SANS, YOU SHOULD COME TO MY ROOM AND TRY THIS PUZZLE BOX NEXT.” Pap said as he left the kitchen with Sans. You could hear his loud voice carry back from the hall. “MILORD COULD ONLY SOLVE THREE SIDES OF IT AND I WANT TO SEE HOW MANY YOU CAN GET.”

“heh, sounds like a good time, Pap.”

“um... will you be long?” Butch asked quietly, aware that it was just you, him, and Milord left in the kitchen. “with the… um, pack stuff?”

“Shouldn’t be,” you said and handed Butch the last plate so you could dry your hands. Milord’s purple lights watched the two of you from his seat at the table with a thoughtful waver. “You want to talk to Axe, right?”

Butch’s nasal ridge regained its golden flush and he nodded. You put a gentle hand on his arm and gave him a smile, your own cheeks pink. “You know you can ask me questions about it too, right?”

The flush deepened and Butch scampered from the kitchen, unable to say anything more.

“I assume there will be another meeting after you’ve marked him?” Milord asked you, his bony brow raised over his sly smirk.

“Seriously, all of you need to stop pushing Butch and me!” You growled, your face turning red.

“All of us?” Milord’s smirk grew as he got up from the table, to join you as you both headed towards the living room. “So you’ve already discussed it with the others? Then I give you my approval as well.”

You threw up your hands in exasperation as you rounded the corner for the living room. Couldn’t they see you had to move at a pace that made Butch comfortable? You didn’t want to force this on him, on anyone, so why were they asking so much about it? Axe even threatened to lock you in a room!

“Hey, guys,” you sighed, grabbing Mutt and Axe’s attention from their spots on the squishiest couch. They looked over their shoulders towards you and you noticed Milord had stopped just out of view to give you a chance to speak. You glanced between them, at Axe’s waiting, vacant smile and at Mutt’s expectant gaze. “So, um, you know why we’re here. I added someone new.”

“It’s Butch, isn’t it?” Mutt smirked.

You shook your head, took Milord’s hand, and pulled him into view. You didn’t need to say anything more. Axe’s grin widened and he said, an echo of his earlier words, “...welcome.”

Milord gave him a curt nod of thanks. You almost missed that, you were too busy watching Mutt’s reaction. The smirk had slid from his face like an egg off a spatula and his jaw hung open in astonishment.

“You’re fucking kidding me,” he growled, his red eye lights narrowing at Milord. “You?”

“Look, I know I didn’t discuss it with any of you beforehand, and that’s my fault.” You stepped forward, dropping Milord’s hand, to try and calm the anger in Mutt’s raspy voice. “I know I need to communicate with you guys, but I didn’t plan it, it just happened, but going forward-”

“Be quiet, Robin!” Mutt snapped. You shrank back at the fury in his voice. He stood up and stepped around the couch, getting in his brother’s face. “You son of a bitch, how could you!?”

“Mutt, let’s talk this out,” you reached out to him, wondering where all this anger was coming from. He was usually so laid back. Why was he so angry, and why did Milord know he would take it this way?

“Shut up!” Mutt barked at you before whirling back on his brother. “You asshole, you knew she was mine! You told me you wouldn’t go after her, you knew!”

“I did not pursue her.” Milord said coldly, his hands clasped behind his back as his purple eye lights narrowed at Mutt. You moved again, to step between them, but Axe held you back. He shook his skull at you, warning you not to get in the way as Mutt started shouting.

“You knew she was the one thing I had on you!” Mutt stormed. “The one thing you didn’t have, but no, you couldn’t just leave it alone. You had to take that too, just like you take everything!”

“Stop being so childish!” Milord snapped, stepping forward and pushing Mutt deeper into the living room. “That was her choice, and you’re only being selfish by trying to keep her all to yourself!”

“What happened to all that bullshit you were lecturing me about, huh?” Mutt growled, using his full height to tower over Milord. “All that crap you were telling me about how much time it takes? Did you decide to just give up your job? Nice to see she’s worth it, but I’m not!”

“Don’t be an idiot.” Milord growled, his tone colder than dry ice. “I would never give up my position. She knows that.”

“That’s right, because you just love lording over everyone, don’t you?” Mutt jabbed at his brother with a bony finger and Milord smacked it away, a scowl on his skull. “You just have to have it all, don’t you? Power and influence aren’t enough? You couldn’t stop at just taking all the credit for my work and telling me what to do all the time, you had to take my alpha, too!”

“You ungrateful mongrel!” Milord’s sockets went dark and his hands shook in fury. You tried to go to them again and Axe tugged you back behind the couch to create a barrier. “Do you realize how much I went through to protect you from your egotistical blunder?! All the years I spent proving myself, to get the Queens to trust me, I had to do all over again after I asked them to spare you!”

“I WOULD RATHER BE DUST!” Mutt shouted, his burnt orange magic spilling from his hands and filling the room with the smell of clove as his sockets also went dark. “You own me like a fucking dog and keep me imprisoned in a kennel and I asked you for one thing! ONE!”

“Mutt, please!” you cried out, terrified at his reaction. You had guessed he would be upset, judging by the warning Milord gave you, but you had no idea he would be this furious. “I asked him to take my mark, be mad at me!”

“She wouldn’t have marked you if she knew who you used to be!” Milord cut Mutt off as he turned to answer you. “Have you told her about how loose your morals are or how depraved you are in your endeavors for attention? Have you told her about your toy?”

“SHUT UP!” Mutt whirled on Milord and tackled him to the floor, punching him across the jaw. They rolled on the floor, grappling with each other. You tried once more to rush forward, but once again, Axe held you back. Milord kicked Mutt in the ribs and sent him to the floor.

“Stop them!” You squealed in fright to Axe as the room filled with the smells of clove and frost. Bones the color of their magic appeared in the air as the plasma they summoned forth solidified.

Axe pulled you behind him and stepped forward, his red magic spilling from his hands like waterfalls as he lifted them into the air. A wall of red bones appeared between Mutt and Milord as they sent their attacks at each other. Lavender and burnt orange bones shot out and pierced deep into the red wall, sticking out like so many arrows. Axe moved his hands away from each other and the wall split, becoming two, and rushed the fighting brothers. Axe tilted his palms and the walls followed suit, pinning his brothers to the floor.

“Get off me, Axe!” Milord shouted, fighting against the wall with his lavender magic, but unable to overcome the weight of the red bones. Mutt didn’t say anything, but he snarled and kicked at the wall that trapped him.

“Guys, stop it!” you yelled, running forward while Axe wielded his magic and was unable to stop you.

“...Willow, don’t!” Axe’s eye light shank in fear as you got in between Mutt and Milord. “...get back!”

“No, they have to stop!” You looked between the two, your heart hammering in your ears. “What the hell is wrong with you two? You’re family! I know I made a mistake, but don’t do this to each other!”

“He had it coming.” Mutt growled, his lights appearing back in his sockets just so he could glare at Milord. “I’m tired of that bastard having everything! He only went after you because he couldn’t stand the thought that I could have an alpha after he failed with his so miserably!”

“You’re never satisfied with what you have!” Milord snapped back, his lights also returning to glare at Mutt. “You always have to have more and more and you never care who pays the price for your actions! How long until you tire of her as well and toss her aside?”

“Milord, stop!” You glared at him. They were just saying things to hurt each other at this point. “Both of you! I expected better out of you guys! You’re both acting like complete assholes right now!”

“...Willow, please… get behind me.” Axe’s voice wavered with fear as his eye light darted between his brothers. “...please.”

“They won’t hurt me, Axe.” You said gently, hearing his terror. “I know they wouldn’t and I’m not going to let them hurt each other. Let them go.”

“Yeah, let me go, Axe.” Mutt growled, his red lights fixed on Milord.

“You’re going to sit your ass right there when he does!” You snapped, rounding on Mutt. “I understand now that you both have a lot of unsaid things between each other, but you both chose me as your alpha. If you want it to stay that way, you’re going to listen to me right now!”

Mutt’s lights found your eyes and you could see them dilate slightly from the truth of your threat. He gave one quick, short nod and looked away to the floor. You turned to Milord, who glanced at Mutt, then also gave you a nod.

“Let them go, Axe.” You said, your voice hard. Axe hesitated, then the red wall of bones melted into iron scented plasma. As soon as the magic was released, he darted to your side and stood by you defensively. 

You looked between Mutt and Milord, still on the floor, and let yourself soften just slightly as they sat up. But only slightly. “I’m surprised by you two. You’re both intelligent and understanding and you’ve never talked to each other about what was going on in your heads? I thought you trusted one another.”

Mutt scoffed and you turned to him. He shrank under your glare. “Mutt, you should know better than anyone how much Milord risked to save you. You think he’s holding that over your head, by telling you what to do, but you know he’s always looked out for you and tried to keep you safe.

And Milord,” you said, turning to face him, “you of all people should know how frustrating it is to want to do something but you can’t have because you’re not allowed to do so, because you’re bound by powers bigger than you. Those small freedoms are the biggest things when you don’t have much else.”

Milord looked away, something like shame on his face. You looked at Mutt, who was fidgeting with the hem of his orange t-shirt.

“I’m just... frustrated,” Mutt mumbled, refusing to look at you or his brother. “I know we work together and you need my skills, but I’ve always been in the back seat. Even before my arrest. Every monster knows your name, Milord, and mine doesn’t exist anymore. I just wanted to succeed where you didn’t so I could feel like I won, for once.”

“You know why I can’t put your name on your work.” Milord shrugged, also avoiding yours and Mutt’s gaze. “I don’t take pleasure in taking credit for your efforts. Though I know I’m not one to express my appreciation... you’re invaluable to me, and not just because of what you can do. I thought you understood that?”

“You’re still an asshole.” Mutt said, a small smirk on his face, as his gaze lifted. “I thought you swore off women after your ex?”

“It is only because Zeta is the polar opposite of my ex that I accepted her mark.” Milord also lifted his gaze, to glance at you, before looking at Mutt. “You never told me she wasn’t demanding or high maintenance.”

“Like I was going to encourage you.” Mutt sat up a little straighter. “I didn’t even know you liked her.”

“Because, unlike you, I don’t wear my soul on my sleeve.” Milord allowed a small smile to tug at his sharp teeth. “Though she was rather convincing in changing my mind, I admit.”

You smiled, knowing that this was probably as close to an apology as you were going to get, and felt Axe relax a little beside you. He took your hand in his for reassurance and asked, “...so, you’re not… going to kill… each other?”

“Not today, at least.” Mutt smirked and picked himself up off the floor. To your joy, you watched him reach out and help Milord up, too. “Maybe some other time.”

“You have no battle experience,” Milord rolled his purple lights. “I would annihilate you.”

“Come on, guys,” you smiled weakly, not wanting either of them to pick up steam and get into another fight. “I want you to promise me you won’t fight like that again.”

“We already face punishment for violating your communication rule.” Milord looked expectantly at you. “But fine, I will redouble my efforts to comply.”

“What tiny said.” Mutt grinned and leaned his elbow on the top of his Milord’s head, using him as an armrest. Milord quickly batted him away, snarling.

“I’m not going to punish you,” you said, seeing the look Milord gave you again, “because this was my fault. I broke my own rule and didn’t talk to you guys about who I wanted to bring in. Next time, I’ll make sure you all know.”

“...I thought… it was Butch?” Axe asked, his skull tilted at you.

“That’s what I heard.” Mutt nodded.

“I’ve already given my approval.” Milord smirked at the deep, red flush blooming across your cheeks.

“Stop pushing it!” You snapped, embarrassed by their looks. “We’re taking it at our own pace! W-what if I wanted to ask Pap, next?”

“...that’s fine.” Axe shrugged, a mischievous grin spreading across his skull. “...but I’m still going to… lock you in a room… with him.”

Mutt gave a raspy laugh. “I’m fine with both those things. You want some help, Axe?”

Milord sighed and rolled his eyelights at his brothers, who were already planning by his side. “Do what you like, Zeta. I’m going back to work.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for reading!!!
> 
> <3
> 
> I know I kind of wrapped this chapter up on a good note but... I wanted to do that because I have some bonus chapters in mind that I'm planning for you guys. I'd like to do two for my uploads next week and, while one has been decided, I'll need your help for the second. The idea for a QnA has always been attractive to me and I was going to do it in a fun way, so give me your questions!
> 
> Three things, though.  
> One: I'm only having Pap, Milord, Edge, and Axe answer them, so keep that in mind.  
> Two: I will not use any questions that might contain spoilers for the story, so please try to stick to things that are fun and wouldn't come up in the story otherwise. (I'll also give a nod to whoever asks the questions!)  
> Three: I'll be accepting questions up until the first bonus chapter is uploaded. I need time to write everything, after all.
> 
> Other than that, thank you again for reading and I hope you enjoy the future content!!


	19. Bonus Chapter - Prank War

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey, lovelies.
> 
> I know this isn't as long as I was intending it to be, but I hope you all still have fun with it. I don't remember who, but someone mentioned this idea to me a long time ago and it just stuck. So... hope you enjoy it.
> 
> Also, I'm trying my best to get back into my normal schedule, but some life stuff has happened and it doesn't make it easy for me to write. It was, I admit, therapeutic to imagine something so fun with all the stuff that's happening. I'm trying.
> 
> Please try your best to stay safe and healthy and give the ones you love a call. You never know when they might be gone.
> 
> Edit: Just to be clear, while the events in this bonus content follow the characters up until the last chapter with their development, I did have to take some liberties so that it all worked. Consider this more of an... alternate timeline?

Bonus Chapter - Prank War

“Okay, team. You all know why I called you here this morning.” You paced at the foot of your bed, addressing the group of sleepy skeletons watching you with hazy red and white eye lights. The morning sunrise spilled through the circular window on the east wall and the rays caught tiny dust motes in the still air. “Last night at dinner, Sans called me out on my lack of pranks and challenged me. You all agreed to be on my team for today, so let’s get our plan of action down before the others wake up.”

“can’ this wait till noon, Dollface?” Red grumbled and pushed Axe, who had fallen asleep on his shoulder, back into the lap of a drowsy Butch. “or till never?”

“THIS IS THE PERFECT TIME TO GET AN ADVANTAGE!” Papyrus, the only other one in the room who was as awake, and as excited, as you. “I’VE ALREADY PREPARED OUR FIRST STRIKE AGAINST SANS AND HIS TEAM. WHAT HAVE YOU DONE, RED?”

“jack shit.” Red growled. He narrowed his crimson lights at Pap and his loud voice, then glanced at the empty sheets and pillows behind him. 

“Everyone here needs to work together.” You said, noticing that glance. “Sans has one less teammate than us, but he’s also got Milord, Mutt, and Edge. The four of them together could come up with any kind of crazy plan, so we need to get ahead of them. Luckily, we have Pap on our side, and he’s a master at anti-Sans strategy.”

Pap turned to you, a wide grin on his skull and his white lights glowing with pride.

“We’ve also got Axe, who’s the best at sneaking up on anyone. Butch, your teleporting skills are on point and we’ll need that mobility. And Red, you know Edge the best. Edge is the biggest wild card of us all, but you can tell us what he might do and how we can plan against it.”

“I can’t see… Edge really doing… any pranks.” Butch yawned, his fuzzy white lights struggling to stay lit, and leaned heavily against Pap.

Red gave a rough chuckle as he leaned back on his elbows. “he could dunk yer skull in a toilet or hang yeh by yer pants from th’ chandelier. ‘er he could stuff yeh in the cupboard under th’ stairs ‘n hit the wall teh knock all th’ bugs loose on yeh.”

You stared at Red with wide eyes. Those didn’t really sound like pranks to you. If anything, they sounded like bullying tactics.

“He does know that this is supposed to be for fun, right?” You asked Red, feeling nervous.

“it is fun,” Red shrugged. “least teh us it is.”

“Ok, so here are my thoughts,” you sighed and rubbed at your temples. If Edge really was going to use such moves, while it wasn’t totally unexpected, you would have to have a better plan to protect your team. “Axe, you tail Sans and Milord as much as you can so we can figure out what they’re planning. Butch, you’re our go between. Axe will bring you information and you bring it back to Pap and me so we can work out counter strikes. Red, you’ll work on our setup.”

“why do I gotta do all th’ fuckin’ work?” Red growled.

“BECAUSE HONEY IS THE ONLY OTHER PRANKSTER IN THE HOUSE WHO CAN COME UP WITH IDEAS ON THE SPOT,” Pap said as he gently shook Axe awake, “AND I’M THE ONLY ONE WHO KNOWS SANS’ STYLE. YOU WANT TO WIN, DON’T YOU?”

“the others… have to do what we say… for a week… if we win.” Butch gently reminded Red.

An evil grin tugged at Red’s sharp teeth. He looked at his brothers, then at you, and his gold fang flashed in the light as he said, “yer tellin me I get teh boss around Milord fer a week?”

“That’s the agreement, if we win, but we have to do what they say if we lose. To win, we just have to prank all of them before they can prank all of us.” You said and grabbed your backpack to rummage through. With your gaze focused on the bag, you missed the flash of Red’s crimson eye lights and the small scoot Butch did to distance himself. “Now, I have a few things that I was planning to use solo, but I think they’ll help you guys out. Just take these…”

~~~

You stood by the stove, a pair of pots simmering before you for a latte. While you knew it was dangerous to give Axe caffeine, he could barely stand by the sink with his skull up. Surely a few sips wouldn’t wind him up too much?

“You sure you don’t want one too, Milord?” You asked as you took measured espresso grounds into a filter. Next to you, Milord shook his skull.

“Under normal circumstances I would accept, but today that is inadvisable.” He said coolly, with a sideways glance at his sleepy brother. Clearly, he was wary of the two of you, but that didn’t stop him from measuring out instant coffee and sugar from a jar into his mug. “Just know that I have no intention of participating.”

“Why not?” You asked as you made your latte. Milord reached behind you for the hot water on the stove and poured it into his mug. “Come on, Milord, it’ll be fun.”

“I gave no verbal consent that I would engage in childish antics.” Milord huffed and took a sip of his coffee. Almost immediately he spit it out onto the floor and slammed the mug onto the counter. His lavender tongue hung out between his teeth as he ran to the sink for water.

You raised your eyebrow in confusion and stuck your finger in a puddle of coffee on the counter to test it. The bitter, overly salty drink shriveled your taste buds and you snickered as you watched Milord run water over his glowing, lavender tongue. 

Pap knew that Milord had coffee every morning and must have switched the salt and sugar. That’s what he must have meant when he said he had already prepared the first strike.

“Looks like you’re part of it anyways.” You giggled as Milord glared at you with his purple lights. “No need to be salty about it, Milord. Just prank us back.”

“You’re all idiots!” Milord snapped and stormed from the kitchen. “Immature, moronic, numbskulled palookas!”

You giggled again as you watched Milord leave and turned the latte you held in your hands. Maybe you should tell the others to leave him alone, he clearly didn’t want to be a part of this. You looked at Axe, to tell him just that, and saw the empty mug in his hands.

The grip on your mug tightened as you saw his red light turned bright and a wide grin stretched across his skull. He hadn’t spit out the salty coffee, of course he wouldn’t. He never wasted food and Milord had just left the coffee next to him. As Axe’s hands started to shake, you realized that Milord was more involved in the prank war than he had let on.

“Axe, remember who we’re pranking today.” You said as Axe snatched the latte from your hands and downed that, too. He gave a cry of delight and sprinted from the kitchen, laughing his skull off. You chased after him, almost tripping on the empty mug he left behind. “Axe! Come back!”

“no!” Axe cackled with glee and literally ran up the wall and jumped off it, landing halfway up the oak staircase. You ran towards the stairs, trying to catch him, but he jumped over you and yanked the front door open to run into the yard.

“he’s gone… isn’t he?” You jumped at Butch’s quiet voice and turned. He had come from the living room and was looking outside, to where Axe had dived head first into a bank of snow, and sighed. “it’s okay Lily… you still have… us.”

“He’ll be wired all day,” you sighed and shut the door. “So much for our spy. That was a blow. Leave it to Milord to catch us unaware like that.”

“I can’t… do his job.” Butch gave you a lopsided smile and held up the canister you gave him. “but I thought about… what I can do with this. I can’t… follow Sans and give… information, but… I can still… try to prank him.”

“Brilliant!” You hugged Butch and looked over his shoulder at the living room behind him. You added, your voice a whisper, “He’s in there, isn’t he?”

Butch nodded, his skull hot against your cheek.

“Good. Stay on him like glue and wait for an opportunity. Where are the others?”

“um... Red is waiting… to plant your trap. Pap is… looking for Mutt. Milord… went upstairs… to his room. I don’t know… where Edge is.”

“That’s okay, we can work with that.” You released Butch from your conspiring hug and went to peak into the living room. It was empty.

Your stomach dropped. Sans was loose.

“Find him!” You squealed, feeling panicked, at Butch and gave him a small push. “Who knows what he’ll do with free reign?!”

Butch nodded and vanished in a puff of burnt sugar. You looked at the front door, cursing the fact that Axe had been taken out so quickly, but ran outside after him. He might be chaotic now, but if you could direct that chaos…

The cold of winter made you shiver as you stood on the front stoop to look for Axe. You rubbed your arms and looked over the snow, searching for tracks, for a flash of blue from his hoodie, anything.

“Hey, Robin.” Mutt’s raspy voice said next to you and you jumped. A plume of purple smoke leaked out from between his smiling, sharp teeth as he smoked his black cigarette. “Having fun?”

You eyed Mutt warily and kept your distance. You had already made the mistake of letting your guard down with Milord.

“Don’t worry, I’m not going to get you.” Mutt chuckled and ate his cigarette butt, then took another from his pocket to light. “I already did my prank.”

“When?” You asked, keeping one eye on the snow for Axe.

“Just before I came out.” Mutt grinned devilishly and exhaled a cloud of clove scented smoke on you. “Wasn’t easy, with Pap trying to find me. Guy’s got eyes on the back of his skull.”

A flash of blue caught your eye and you glanced towards the treeline. Mutt snickered and used a bony finger under your chin to turn your face towards his.

“I’m not going to get you,” he said again, mistaking your glance for paranoia. “You’re someone else’s target.”

“Who?” You asked, watching as Axe crept out from the treeline, a pair of snowballs in his bony hands and a mischievous grin on his skull.

Mutt opened his jaw to answer and Axe struck. Two snowballs rocketed into the back of Mutt’s skull and his cigarette fell out of his teeth to disappear into the snow. Axe roared with laughter and scooped up more snow to fire at you.

“Come and get me, Axe!” You shouted and darted back inside the house with Mutt, tempting Axe to follow you and, hopefully, drag his other brothers into his game, too.

To your delight, and terror, your plan worked. Axe raced after you and Mutt, stuffing snow into his pockets as he ran, and it was all you could do to beat Mutt to the stairs as Axe pelted him with more snowballs.

“Sorry, Mutt!” You called over your shoulder as you climbed the stairs two at a time. 

You turned towards your bathroom, to find cover, and collided into someone. Mittened hands caught you before you hit the ground and Pap set you back on your feet. You pushed him back, into your door, and shushed him.

“WHAT?” Pap asked, his nasal ridge flushed orange as you leaned against him to keep him out of sight. You shushed him again and turned your ear towards the stairway, listening.

It was quiet. Either Mutt led Axe someplace else in the house, or they were outside again.

“I think we’re losing.” You whispered to Pap. You crept towards the stairs and peaked around the corner. The entryway was empty, but the front door was open and snow swirled onto the wood floor to melt. “I know you already got Milord, but then he got Axe and Axe is going after anyone he can now. Mutt said he already did his prank, but I don’t know who he got. Have you heard from Butch or Red?”

“NO.” Pap shook his skull and looked around the corner with you. “RED IS SUPPOSED TO FIND EDGE, BUT HE’S HIDING SOMEWHERE.”

“We need to find him.” You looked up at Pap and gestured at the room across from the stairs. “Think he’s in there?”

“I DON’T THINK SO. RED ALREADY CHECKED AND-” Pap put a hand on the top of your head and shoved you towards the floor. A snowball flew over your heads and pelted Edge’s door, spraying the hall with slush. Pap put a mittened hand over your mouth and growled down the stairs, “WE’RE ON YOUR SIDE, YOU WEASEL!”

The last thing you heard before Pap pulled you into the void was Axe’s manic laughter. He had obviously reloaded on ammo and was venturing back into the house for more victims.

You reappeared in the kitchen, in the short hallway leading to Mutt’s room. Axe’s laughter filled your ears again. Your panicked breath came in short gasps that pulled the smell of brown sugar through Pap’s mittens.

The sound of an air horn cut through Axe’s noise and the house fell into a tense silence. You pulled Pap’s hand from your mouth and hissed, “That’s Butch! He’s found Sans!”

“WE CAN’T GO HELP HIM NOW.” Pap whispered and pulled you back. “DON’T WORRY, HONEY. THE NOISE WILL DRAW AXE, BUT AXE WON’T GO AFTER BUTCH. THIS IS GOOD.”

“Well, now what?” You looked into the kitchen, wondering where the other brothers were hiding, and spotted a black sock poking out from under the table. You nudged Pap and pointed it out.

The two of you slinked over, trying to be as quiet as possible, to investigate. You peeked under the table and stifled a snort of laughter. Mutt had hidden under the table from Axe and, impressively, had fallen asleep there. Then again, it was pretty early in the morning for him.

“Pap,” you whispered, trying your hardest not to giggle and wake up Mutt. “Try to move some of these chairs so we can get at him. I have an idea.”

As Pap gently lifted the chairs out of the way, you rushed to your cupboard where your dry goods were. It took you only seconds to find the marker that you stored there with the notecards. You held it up, grinning, and turned back to Pap.

To your surprise, he looked back at you. You dropped the marker and stifled your laughter with your hands. He wasn’t actually looking at you, his attention was still on the chairs, but someone had glued a pair of googly eyes to the back of his skull.

You bit your tongue to keep quiet. Mutt had said he already pranked someone, and he also said that Pap had eyes on the back of his head.

“WHAT?” Pap turned at your stifled laughter and tilted his skull in confusion. You pointed towards the marker on the floor, then at Mutt, and Pap grinned mischievously. He might be unaware of Mutt’s prank, but at least Pap could still have revenge.

Pap could barely stifle his own snickers as he drew all over Mutt’s sleeping skull in black marker. Eventually, he had to back away to keep himself quiet and gave you the marker to take over. When you had finished, both of you leaned against each other, hands over your mouths, as you looked down and admired your handiwork.

Mutt’s skull was covered in swirls and doodles by Pap, while you had added a rather impressive, fuzzy looking pair of eyebrows and a handlebar mustache.

The air horn sounded again, much closer this time. Mutt jerked awake at the noise, his red eye lights fuzzy. You and Pap ran from the kitchen, finally letting your laughter loose as you ran towards the sounding horn.

You and Pap ran into a pair of bodies in the entryway and you fell together in a chaotic mess. In the confusion, you couldn’t see who it was, but you could hear Sans’ melodic laughter and Red’s growling curses.

“I’m gonna fuckin’ strangle you!” Red’s bony hands grabbed blindly through the pile and he ended up trying to choke out your ankle. Someone crawled over the top of you, laughing, and your vision was filled with blue and pink.

“Oh my stars,” you heard Mutt snort from beyond the pile and double over with raspy laughter. “Sans, you're brilliant!”

As Sans climbed out of the pile, and Pap helped you to your feet, you realized what was so funny. Red was standing up, soaking wet with bits of water balloon clinging to the fur on his hoodie. But the fur was no longer white, nor was his skull. He was pink.

“hahaha! mustache- question!” Sans roared with mirth, unable to stay standing or make a proper pun after seeing the ink all over Mutt’s skull. Even Red paused to cackle with laughter.

“What?” Mutt looked between them, confused, as Sans beat the ground with his fist and at Red’s sudden loss of anger. He raised a bony brow and the inked eyebrow followed. “Do I have something on my face?”

Mutt wiped at his skull, smearing the marker across his cheekbones. You and Pap joined Sans on the floor.

A shadow fell over Pap and you looked up. Axe was standing on the banister and he was holding his hoodie up so that you could see his threadbare t-shirt. Your smile fell and you yelled, “Watch out!” before rolling out of the way and into Red. A mound of snow fell as Axe released his hoodie and buried Pap and Sans on the floor.

Red pulled you out of the way just in time to avoid a flurry of snowballs that Axe pulled from his pockets. You grabbed a handful of snow from the floor and shot back. Red, taking your lead, placed a well aimed shot that smacked Axe right in the face and he fell from the banister. You gasped in fear, trying your best to scramble to your feet on the wet floor to catch him before he hit the ground.

A long arm reached over the banister and snatched Axe out the air by the back of his threadbare blue hoodie. Edge looked down at his wiggling brother, who was trying to turn and throw a snowball despite his situation, and hung him on the chandelier. 

“STAY OUT OF MY WAY, YOU HYPER LITTLE WEIRDO.” Edge smirked, took an air horn out of the back pocket of his black jeans and blew it in Axe’s face.

“Where’s Butch?” You asked, a sinking feeling filling you at the sight of the horn.

“I DUCT TAPED HIM TO THE CEILING.” Edge shrugged and slowly descended the stairs. He tossed the horn up in the air and caught it, an air of smugness following him. “YOU’LL HAVE TO FIND HIM IF YOU WANT TO HAVE HIM FOLLOW US AGAIN, PET.”

“HA! HE’LL JUST TAKE A SHORTCUT AND GET OUT!” Pap laughed and started to pack a snowball.

“NO, HE WON’T.” Edge smirked. He paused, his red lights narrowed at the marks on Mutt’s face, and rolled them in exasperation. “NOT IF HE THINKS I’LL REFRAIN FROM PRANKING HIS PRECIOUS PET IF HE STAYS WHERE HE IS.”

The shadows swayed as Axe teleported from the chandelier and left it swinging. No doubt, you thought, he left to find and free Butch.

You felt Red’s grip on you tighten as Edge joined everyone in the entryway. His presence had effectively paused the onslaught and Pap’s snowball slowly melted in his hand as Edge watched him, daring him to throw it with just a look.

“I didn’t think you liked pranks?” you asked, your curiosity overwhelming you at Edge’s sudden change in demeanor from hostile to almost friendly.

“I DON’T,” Edge said sharply and focused his red gaze on you, “BUT I WANT THE REWARD FOR VICTORY. SO, WHO’S LEFT TO HIT BEFORE WE WIN?”

You looked at the brothers. Everyone had been pranked so far. Everyone except…

“me, Edge, and Thyme.” Sans smirked, seeing the googly eyes on the back of Pap’s skull. “looks like we’re winning.”

Edge’s skull broke out in an evil grin, his red lights narrowing at you. You felt Red’s hand fly up and cover your nose just before you felt that pressing sensation of slipping into the void.

You reappeared in your room.

“shit,” Red cursed, his pink skull looking around the attic for threats. “shit, shit, shit!”

“Red, it’s okay,” you said, placing a reassuring hand on his shoulder. “We can still beat them. Even if we don’t, it’s just a game. This is all for fun.”

“no, it ain’t.” Red growled and kicked at a stack of books. “cuz I know what he wants. he’s gonna tell yeh teh leave.”

You squeezed his shoulder. “It would only be for a week.”

Red looked around at you, his crimson lights flickering.

“If they win, I only have to do what they say for a week,” you explained. “So if Edge wants me to leave, I’ll stay at a hotel or something. But I’m coming back.”

“...but that would suck.” Red grumbled.

“So, let’s figure out a way to beat them.” You picked a piece of water balloon out of Red’s hoodie. “We need to get the others. I have an idea, but-”

“tell me.” Red interrupted. “yer gonna hide, ‘n I’ll get boss ‘n vanilla. I owe him fer this shit.” He gestured angrily at his pink skull.

“You’ll need the others.” You said. “I’ll hide in my bathroom for now, that’s been agreed as a safe place, while you find them. Now, listen carefully, because you’ll need to tell them what to do.”

~~~

“-and you’re sure that’s in place, Red?” you turned towards his pink skull as you sat on the edge of the tub together.

“I told yeh already, yeh ain’t got nothin’ teh worry about.”

“Butch, you got what you need?” you asked Butch, who was looking in the mirror at the residual tape glue all over his skull.

“y-yes…” he stuttered quietly and wiped at a strip of glue near his jaw with the nail polish remover you gave him. The glue came away cleanly, but his skull scrunched up at the powerful, chemical smell.

“Axe and Pap are in place?” you looked between the two and they nodded. “Good. We have just Sans and Edge left, I know we can do this.”

“‘n vanilla is already right where yeh said he’d be.” Red smirked. “I dunno why yeh didn’t let me turn  _ him _ some weird color.”

“Because Pap could only salvage one water balloon.” You stood up from your spot on the tub and took a deep breath. “Okay, we’re as ready as we’ll ever be. Red, don’t forget what you have to say, exactly when you need to-”

“yeah, yeah, calm yer tits.” Red rolled his crimson eye lights at you. “I still say we should use Butch instead. he’s already proven teh be good bait.”

Butch turned from the mirror to glare at Red as he snickered. “maybe… you would like it… if I taped you… to the ceiling?”

“He’d be tickled pink,” you took a cotton pad from Butch to wipe away the last of the tape glue, smirking as Red flushed crimson out of the corner of your eye, “but Red can’t do his part if he’s tied up. Let’s do this, first.”

The small bathroom flooded with the scent of iron as Axe appeared on top of the toilet. “...all clear.” 

His red eye light was still bright, and he still had a broad, hyper grin across his skull, but Edge’s prank on Butch had given him focus enough to rejoin the team.

“Okay, Axe and Butch, go get in place.” You nodded to the two of them. Axe reached out, took Butch by the hand, and they vanished together in the blink of an eye. 

“yeh sure this is gonna work?” Red asked, stopping you as you put your hand on the brass doorknob. “if yer wrong…”

“Then we’ll still have had fun.” You gave him a reassuring smile and slipped out into the hallway. 

Halfway down the hall, you stopped in front of Milord’s door and knocked. He didn’t open it, but you could hear him approach by the sound of wheels rolling across the wooden floor from this desk chair.

“I told you already, I’m not participating.” his cold voice said from the other side of the door.

“I wasn’t going to ask you to.” You said. “But the game is still going on, and if you’re out, then one of the members of my team need to get switched over or else it isn’t fair.”

The door cracked open and Milord looked at you with a bewildered expression on his skull. “Why would you knowingly give up your primary advantage in numbers?”

“Because it won’t be fun for the others.” You huffed and crossed your arms. “All I’m asking is that you come with me to talk to Sans about making the deal. It won’t be official unless you give us your word that you’ll stay out of it.”

“Is that necessary?” Milord sighed, but followed you out into the hallway and down the stairs. You noticed that he made sure to stay a few steps behind you. “I already told him I wasn’t going to be a part of this.”

“You already are.” You led Milord into the living room, where Sans was asleep on the couch. Mutt was doing the same thing in one of the arm chairs, but his skull looked a zebra with his failed attempt to wash off the marker. You said, giggling at the marks, “You got Axe this morning with your coffee, you sly fox. Don’t think I didn’t notice.”

“If no one had tempered with my coffee, I would not have left it behind.” Milord shrugged. “It’s no fault of mine if Axe goes after anything unattended.”

“You just wanted to get out it early.” You poked him in the shoulder and Milord grinned at you.

“Is that what you assume it was?” his grin widened and his purple lights glowed at you. “What an interesting idea.”

“Awful brave of you, Robin, to come in here with most of our team.” Mutt yawned widely, awoken by the sound of your voices. “Aren’t you worried we’ll prank you and win?”

“You guys seem pretty confident that you can, if you’re napping in the middle of our prank war,” you pointed out.

“She wishes to hand over one of her teammates.” Milord said curtly, his brow furrowing at the look of Mutt’s skull. “Obviously she’s taken pity on your abhorrent skills.”

“Hear that, vanilla?” Mutt gave a short, raspy laugh and threw a cushion at Sans, who woke up with a jolt. “Robin thinks we suck so much that she wants to even out the teams.”

Sans sat up and rubbed at one of his eye sockets, a lazy grin on his skull. He looked between you, then his brothers, and said, “sounds like-”

“Pbbbt!”

You bit your lip to keep the laughter down as Mutt, Sans, and Milord’s eye lights widened simultaneously and turned to look at you. “I didn’t do anything.”

Mutt started to snicker and Milord held his skull in his hand and sighed irritably into his palm. Sans grinned, his white eye lights sharpening as he woke up. “nice one, Thy-”

“Pbbbt!”

“Damn, Sans, what did you eat?” You smirked as Sans tried to say something again, only to be cut off by another fart noise. Mutt howled with laughter and clutched at his ribs as he rolled out of the recliner and onto the floor.

Sans furrowed his brow. “but-”

“PBBBT!”

“...seriously?” Millord crossed the living room with a few short, clipped strides and looked behind the couch that Sans was on. “Axe, Butch, are you really so juvinile?”

Caught in the act, both Axe and Butch leaned over the back of the couch on either side of Sans and smirked at him, waiting for him to say anything else. The moment Sans opened his mouth, Butch took out the whoopie cushion and squeezed it by Sans’ skull. “Pbbt!”

Sans stared at the cushion. “when did-” 

“Pbbbt!”

He made a swipe for it. “you steal-”

“PBBBT!”

“-that from me!” Sans made a dive for the cushion, which Butch easily avoided as he hid behind Axe. 

“...when you were sleeping.” Axe flicked Sans across his nasal bone. “...now, we just need to get Edge and we win.”

“UNLIKELY!”

You turned towards the entrance to the living room where Edge leaned against the wall, his sharp teeth turned up into a pointed smirk. “I’M DISAPPOINTED IN YOU, SANS. YOU CALL YOURSELF A PRANK MASTER AND YOU LET YOURSELF BE DEFEATED SIMPLY BECAUSE YOU COULD NOT STAY AWAKE. PATHETIC.”

“Watch your back, Edge.” Mutt said, his red lights narrowing as they scanned the room. “Pap and Red are still out there.”

“PAPYRUS IS TAKEN OUT.” Edge grinned evilly and advanced on you. You took several steps back, your gaze on the outer hall where you hoped your last teammates would appear. 

Pap did appear, his tall frame stumbling into view, with a trash can wedged over his skull and onto his shoulders. He grabbed blindly in front of him, onto Edge, who shooed him away towards the couches. Butch immediately dropped the whoopie cushion and rushed over to unstick Pap. 

As Edge wiped the dust from the sleeve from his black turtleneck, he sneered, “ AS YOU CAN SEE, HE WON’T BE ABLE TO HELP THE PET WITH A GARBAGE CAN STUCK ON HIS SKULL. AND RED… HE KNOWS BETTER THAN TO TRY ME.”

“Edge, that’s disgusting!” Milord recoiled at the sight of all the grey dust on Pap’s white chestplate. “That is so unsanitary, why would you-?”

“IF YOU THINK THAT’S BAD,” Edge stood over you, his red eye lights flashing as he sized you up. “WAIT UNTIL I DUNK THE PET’S HEAD INTO A TOILET.”

“...take cover!” Axe shouted at you and jumped onto the back of the couch. He pulled half melted snow from his pockets, making a sloppy snowball as you dived towards the floor.

But you never hit the floor. A pair of hands caught you and lifted you high into the air, right in the way of the oncoming slushball. You squealed as it hit you square in the face and icy water dripped down your neck and chest. Axe’s red light dilated in horror as he realized that, by hitting you instead of Edge, he had cost his team the victory.

“...HE DID SAY TO TAKE COVER.” Edge laughed, a sharp piercing noise in your ear, and wiggled you in the air so that the cold water ran further down your clothes.

“yo, boss!”

Both you and Edge turned at Red’s rough voice. Red stood behind Edge, a wide smirk on his pink skull, and a blue water balloon in his bony hands. You felt Edge’s grip tighten on you seconds before Red launched the balloon into his face at close range.

It exploded on impact, drenching Edge in sticky maple syrup and, since he was holding you, splattered into your hair and face. The room with deathly quiet as Edge dropped you to wipe the gooey mess from his eye sockets. A furious scowl took over his face as his vision cleared and his red lights blazed with fury.

“I ALREADY WON, YOU IDIOT!” Edge snapped.

“no, yeh didn’.” Red smirked and shoved his hands into the pockets of his black hoodie. “check yer back.”

Edge looked over his shoulder. He tried to reach and grab something there, and as he did a small dance on the spot, you saw the piece of paper that was taped there.

It said, ‘big headed edgelord’.

“HA! GOT YOU!” Pap said triumphantly, his skull finally freed from the trash can with one last hearty tug from Butch. “YOU THOUGHT I WAS OUT, BUT I SHOWED YOU! I GOT YOU BEFORE AXE SAID TO TAKE COVER!”

“THAT IS THE STUPIDEST PRANK EVER!” Edge growled, crumpled the paper up, and threw it at the floor. “IT DOESN’T COUNT!”

“yeah, it-”

“Pbbbbt!”

Sans looked to Butch, who had loyally picked up the whoopie cushion after freeing Pap, and continued his prank. Butch gave Sans a weak, lopsided smile, which became a full, genuine grin as Sans started to laugh.

“I believe what Sans is attempting to say,” Milord sighed and rolled his eye lights, “is that, despite it being a very low brow prank, it still counts as one. Our team has lost, Edge.”

“NO! I DEMAND A REMATCH!” Edge wiped more maple syrup off of his face and smeared it across the top of Red’s skull. Red glared at him. “DOUBLE OR NOTHING! I REFUSE TO LOSE TO THE PET!”

“Hell no, no more prank wars for me.” Mutt grinned, watching Red try to smack Edge with the syrup he wiped off his skull. “I’ve had enough of this to last a lifetime. I’m never going to get this marker off my bones.”

“try… nail polish remover.” Butch offered.

“...or this!” Axe pulled the last bit of snow from his pockets and pounced on top of Mutt to rub the icy drippings in his face, which only smeared the marker more.

“I’m not cleaning this house up alone.” Milord looked at you. “I don’t care if you can tell us what to do, make those idiots help.”

“I THINK EDGE SHOULD DO IT ALL.” Pap grinned at Red and Edge, who were now fighting on the floor and getting syrup everywhere. “MAYBE HE’LL CLEAN UP HIS ACT.”

Sans roared with laughter, his skull slightly blue, as he tried to breathe. Pap looked confused as to what brought on this fresh wave of delight, but you couldn’t help but grin at Pap’s unintentional pun.

Or maybe it was the googly eyes still on the back of his skull.


	20. Bonus Chapter - Teatime

Bonus Chapter - Teatime

“GET YOUR PIN NEEDLE OF A FOOT OUT OF MY FACE!”

“I can’t very well see, Edge, so stop complaining. Papyrus, if that’s your hand pinning me, remove it at once before I throw you into… what is this, a wall?”

“I CAN’T SEE EITHER, MILORD! OH, WAIT, YES I CAN. AXE, THAT’S YOUR EYE LIGHT, ISN’T IT?”

“...yes.”

“Everyone, stop moving!” Milord’s icy voice snapped. “We’re achieving nothing by blundering around in the dark. Summon your magic so we may at least have the glow to see by.”

Lavender, orange, and red balls of light immediately popped into existence. The four brothers, piled together on the floor, quickly untangled themselves. Milord and Axe looked around, intrigued by the three blank, black marble walls that surrounded them, while Pap turned on Edge.

“WHY DON’T YOU SUMMON YOUR MAGIC?” Pap asked, irritation filling his loud voice.

“YOU KNOW VERY WELL THAT BLACK CASTS NO LIGHT.” Edge snapped back, his sharp voice a razor in the dark. “YOU SHOULD BE ASKING WHERE THE HELL WE ARE, NOT BITCHING ABOUT MY MAGIC!”

“I assume we would find out,” Milord held up his ball of lavender plasma, casting light down a long, twisting hall, “if we press on to investigate.”

“...I smell food.” Axe sniffed the air, his vacant grin widening, and took a few steps down the black marble hall. Edge and Milord reached out simultaneously to hold him back by his blue hood. “...this is… a good place. ...I can… feel it.”

“THIS REMINDS ME OF AN UNDERGROUND TRAP.” Edge growled, his red lights narrowed at the hallway.

“IT DOESN’T FEEL LIKE IT, THOUGH.” Pap took a few cautious steps out into the marble. “I FEEL LIKE I’VE BEEN HERE BEFORE.”

The smells of flowers and baking things grew stronger and wafted down the hallway towards the four brothers. Axe shuffled his shoulders, slipped out of his threadbare, blue hoodie and raced towards the smell with his red eye light shining bright.

“Wait, you idiot!” Milord’s purple light shrank slightly in fear. “We need to stick together to scout an unknown location!”

Edge immediately took off after Axe, leaving only a trail of his gasoline scented magic behind him as he prepared himself for the worst. Pap lifted Milord to his feet and beat the dust off his leather jacket with his red mittens.

“LET’S HURRY UP SO WE CAN STICK TOGETHER, THEN.” Pap said simply, as if running after them was the only logical conclusion Milord could come to.

“I’m going to dust Axe if he has led us to a trap.” Milord growled, his lavender magic pulsing dangerously in the air as he ran with Pap. “Have you noticed yet that we can’t use shortcuts down here?”

“NOPE.” Pap shook his skull and pointed down the hall to a dim light obscured partially by a curtain of hanging glass beads the colors of moss and earth. “BUT AT LEAST WE DON’T HAVE TO GUESS WHERE THEY WENT!”

“Papyrus, wait-” Milord held up a gloved hand, but Pap had already confidently strode through the glass beads and into the area beyond. Milord clenched his fists tightly and gritted his sharp teeth. Idiots. All of them. How else could he describe such people who threw caution to the wind?

Axe turned his skull as the curtain of beads tinkled with a dull, hollow sound and his brother finally arrived in the room. Axe smiled at Milord’s obvious confusion. After all, Axe hadn’t been expecting such a cozy, circular room at the end of the dark tunnel, either. Nor had he expected it to be filled with giant, squishy pillows to sit on, or to have it illuminated by dozens of candles dripping their wax onto the black marble walls between thousands of worn and well-read books.

“TAKE A SEAT, MILORD.” Pap patted the empty cushion at his side and gestured to the round table they all sat at. “OUR HOST HAS KINDLY OFFERED US REFRESHMENTS!”

Edge glanced at Milord, who had taken his seat between himself and Pap, and shared his confusion regarding this strange place. He could have accepted the small animal skeletons hiding on the book shelves among other random odd objects such as little glass spun reptiles, a twisted hourglass that leaked sand at odd places within its glass, and a blue jar full of dented bottle caps. One of these strange decorations, he noted, was a tattered, left combat boot with no apparent match in sight. He could have accepted, even, the strange, smoke-filled orb on the table in the center of the room. What he could not accept, was the entity that was serving them all tea and snacks with a small smile on their pale face.

Their host, for Edge had to assume that this was the woman who lived here, looked human enough. She was tall, reedy, and wore an over-sized black dress that was tied to her waist with a cutting of rope, making it hard to tell her age since she had hardly any age features to speak of her maturity. She was pale as well, and this gave Edge the impression of a plant that had tried to grow for too long in the dark. Her hair, her dark, ruby red hair was long and thick and had the ruffled look of someone who had just woken up from a long, restless sleep. But her eyes; they were a shining, coal black that seemed to be filled with stars. That couldn’t be natural, that must be the reflection of all the candles.

“Nibbles?” The woman offered them each a bowl in turn of white, puffy looking things that no one but Axe would touch. Pap must have looked bewildered, because she then explained to him in a gentle voice, “Don’t worry, Pap. Packing peanuts are edible, you know.”

To prove her point, she popped a few in her mouth and crunched away happily while she picked up a scuffed, stone teapot and began to pour them all generous amounts of a light, floral smelling brown liquid.

“Who are you?” Milord finally asked the question on everyone’s mind. Everyone, except for maybe Axe, who was the only one delightfully stuffing handfuls of chocolate from a dented, silver tin that the woman offered them.

“...Oolong.” Axe mumbled through fistfuls of chocolate. “...don’t you… remember?”

“They haven’t drank, yet.” The woman, Oolong, as Axe had called her, motioned towards the bone white, china teacups on the round table. Pap, Edge, and Milord stared down at them.

“NOPE.” Edge pushed his cup away and started to stand up. “HELL NO, FUCK THIS, I’M LEAVING, I’M-”

The woman’s black eyes flashed and she made a pointing motion with one of her pale fingers. Edge immediately sat back into his poof and turned back to the table.

“Edge, dear, there’s no need to be difficult.” Oolong purred and turned her back to the table while she searched among the bookshelves and their odd knickknacks. “Let’s just have a pleasant time together, like we usually do, and I’ll get you all back home safe and sound. Won’t you keep me company for awhile?”

“WHAT DO YOU WANT FROM US, WOMAN?” Edge growled, his sockets black with anger. 

“JUST TO TALK WITH US.” Pap said and lowered his empty teacup back to the table. “SHE’S INVITED US BEFORE. DRINK YOUR TEA, YOU’LL REMEMBER. ...EH, AT LEAST A LITTLE BIT.”

Edge and Milord exchanged skeptical glances. 

“Perhaps you’d like something to eat with your tea?” Oolong pulled a silver platter with a large, equally silver dome resting upon it from a bookshelf. She sat at the other end of the table, carefully moved the glowing, glass orb into her lap, and set the silver tray in the center of the dark wood. “What’s your favorite snack? Tell me, and I shall provide.”

“...cinnamon rolls.” Axe grinned. He reached for the silver dome and Oolong stopped him with a gentle hand on his arm.

“Let the others give their answers, too, hun.” She smiled warmly and pulled out a blue hoodie from beneath the table. “By the way, you left this in the hall. Try not to lose it, won’t you?”

“OATMEAL COOKIES.” Pap smiled and added quickly, “BUT ONLY THE ONES THAT HONEY MAKES.”

“Tiramisu.” Milord let slip the moment the teacup left his sharp teeth. His purple lights widened in surprise and he set the barely touched tea back on the table. It was strange, he did remember this woman now, even if it was only enough so that he knew without a doubt that she was someone to be trusted. Why was that?

“It’s my special-tea.” Oolong whispered with a wink to Milord. Milord stared. Did she just read his thoughts? “Come on, Edge, at least take a sip like Milord. Otherwise, you won’t be able to answer any of my questions.”

“WHY THE HELL WOULD I WANT TO DO THAT FOR A DISGUSTING LITTLE HUMAN LIKE YOU?” Edge sneered.

“Trust me, it would be in your best interest.” Oolong said this with a gentle smile on her pale face, but the candles of the room sputtered and there was a moment of darkness before everything settled. Edge started, his sockets wide at the display of raw, unknown magic, and took a small sip of tea. “Good boy. And don’t worry, Edge. It won’t control your mind. I can’t force you to do anything you don’t want to. Trust me,” she mumbled the next words so none of the brothers could hear, “my life would be so much easier if I could.”

“...GINGER SNAPS.” Edge grumbled and slouched into his cushion. Oolong’s smile widened and she lifted the silver dome away. All of their favorite treats waited beneath it, all of them steaming hot and caring the faintest scent of lilies with them.

“Made by your favorite human, no doubt.” Oolong pushed the silver platter over to the brothers and lifted her crystal ball back to its place at the center of the circular, dark table. “Excellent, have as much as you want. If you desire anything, just ask. I’ll provide for as long as you answer my questions.”

“What is the purpose?” Milord asked as he took a small glass plate of Tiramisu and a long, twisted silver dessert spoon from the tray.

“Oh, just to keep me company.” Oolong shrugged and gestured around the circular room. “I don’t get much company here besides you, your brothers, and your sweet little human.” Catching the curious gleam in Pap’s white lights, she added, “If you answer my questions, I’ll answer some of yours, Pap. Now… let’s start with something small to ease you all into it. What’s your favorite animal?”

“...wolves.” Axe’s red eye light stared at his empty plate in disappointment that his treat was already gone. Oolong tapped him on the shoulder and pointed back to the silver tray, where another one was waiting for him. Yes, she could see why he picked wolves. They were fiercely loyal and protective to their chosen pack, yet had the capacity to be playful and oh so gentle.

“I’M NOT SURE HOW I KNOW THIS,” Pap said and studied his half eaten cookie. “BUT MY FAVORITE ANIMAL WOULD BE AN OTTER.”

Oolong nodded her approval. Otters were fantastic improvisers, able to solve problems with whatever was on hand, and took great care of their families.

“How are you, and I for that matter, even aware of what an otter is?” Milord’s purple lights narrowed at Oolong, full of suspicion once again.

“I’ll answer your question once you and Edge answer mine.” Oolong smiled, her face a welcoming mask, and patiently waited for the remaining answers.

“A BULL.” Edge stared at the swirling smoke within the crystal ball, a smirk on his skull as he imagined the snorting creature, proud and fierce with its long horns.

“Mine would have to be the octopus. Despite not having a singular brain, they are highly intelligent creatures.” With a side glance at his brothers, Milord quietly admitted, “And I envy their eight arms.”

“Interesting,” Oolong hummed as she tapped her chin, “that you would pick the creatures that best represent you, as well. Yes, I could definitely see all of you as your chosen animal.”

“YOU’RE NOT GOING TO TURN US INTO THEM, ARE YOU?” Pap gasped, horrified.

“Of course not, sweetie. Just talking to myself.” Oolong poured a cup of her own tea and sipped the steaming liquid. “Ah, let’s see. Next question, then.”

“Hold on, you have yet to answer ours!” Milord snapped, his icy voice echoing in the small room. Oolong visibly winced at the noise.

“Please, Milord, I don’t like raised voices.” She said and took another sip of tea. “I did answer one of your questions, the one Pap just asked me. If you want another answer, I get to ask you something else.”

“Let me ask the next one,” Milord hissed to Pap and glared at him from across the table. Axe reached across the small table and sharply poked Milord in the arm.

“...don’t upset her… you idiot. ...we’re her guests.”

“So!” Oolong clapped her pale hands together and looked between the brothers, her black eyes shining. “Now that I know your favorites, I have to ask, what kind of pet would you like?”

“No, absolutely no pets!” Milord stood up and slammed his hands on the table. “I have enough to deal with cleaning up after my brothers, don’t you dare-!”

“Hypothetically,” Oolong said coolly, glaring at Milord. “I won’t ask again, Milord. Please keep your voice down. Even Edge is sticking to my one rule.”

“I WOULD LIKE A TARANTULA.” Edge sat up a little straighter, as if her speaking his name had woken him up from the trance he had been in while staring into the crystal ball. “ONE OF THOSE BIG ONES, THE BIRD EATERS I THINK THEY’RE CALLED?”

“UGH, EDGE, THAT’S GROSS!” Pap glanced around the circular room like one of the giant spiders would appear out of nowhere. “WOULDN’T YOU RATHER HAVE SOMETHING NICE LIKE A HEDGEHOG? I WOULD!”

“Or an aquarium?” Milord sighed and rolled his eye lights. “If we must have a pet, I’d rather it be low maintenance.”

Oolong’s smile grew a little bit and she glanced at the crystal ball. Despite Milord’s verbal wish, she could see a beautiful coral reef replica on display within the smoke. Low maintenance indeed. “What about you, Axe? What would you like?”

The three brothers turned to Axe, who was staring at his empty plate with a furrowed look of concentration on his skull. After a long while, his visage relaxed and the vacant smile everyone knew so well returned. “...alligator.”

“A PET IS A DOMESTICATED ANIMAL, YOU IDIOT.” Edge snapped.

“...why?”

“SO IT DOESN’T HURT YOU!” Pap sighed.

“...a dog could… still hurt you.”

Oolong giggled. “You know, being monsters, I doubt there are many animals that could hurt you even if they tried. An alligator would make a fine pet to Axe, I think.”

“You’re never bringing such a creature into the house!” Milord growled. “Especially if it could harm Zeta!”

“I never said I would gift these creatures to you,” Oolong shrugged and sipped her tea again. “So don’t worry, Milord. This is just for fun. And if this is all for fun, what would you name your pets?”

“DOOMBRINGER!” Edge took another swig of his tea, his red lights shining at the thought of the giant arachnid.

“Why would I waste time naming fish?” Milord stabbed moodily at his tiramisu.

“I’D NAME THE HEDGEHOG ‘CLOVER’” Pap squealed and looked to Oolong. “YOU WERE RIGHT, THIS IS ACTUALLY REALLY FUN! I LIKE THESE QUESTIONS!”

“...I’d name mine…” Axe’s grin widened and he started sneaking ginger snaps from the platter when he thought Edge wasn’t looking. “....’Sprinkles.’”

Edge and Pap turned simultaneously to chastise Axe for his choice in names. Milord sighed and looked to the walls and stared longingly at the numerous volumes that hid most of the black marble from view. Oolong watched the two tallest brothers for a while, while the shortest sat stubbornly between them, insisting that his name was a good one.

“Milord,” Oolong said quietly, watching Milord’s yearning gaze towards her collection. “Would you like to tell me what your favorite book is?”

“You have yet to answer my question.” Was his simple reply.

“Hmm, yes, but I think your brothers might like to hear that answer, too, once they stop bickering.”

Milord gave a heavy sigh. “You won’t let us go home until you’ve had your amusement, will you?”

“Is that your question?” Oolong grinned mischievously. Milord glared at her.

“An answer for an answer, is it? Fine. Yes, that is my question. I’m sure I’ll have more opportunities for another.”

“Yes, you all can go home once I’m done. I already told you this.” Oolong reached out and patted Milord on his skull.

“Don’t touch me!” He snarled and swiped at her hand.

“Your favorite book?” Oolong sat back and gazed absentmindedly at the crystal ball. “You can tell me, or not. I have ways of finding out everything I want to know.”

Milord’s gaze narrowed at the swirling smoke and he glanced over at the books. His thoughts were almost an audible whirr under the noise his brothers made. “...Speaker for the Dead by Orson Scott Card.”

“Found that in the Underground, did you?” Oolong nodded. “Yes, his Ender series is quite excellent, did you ever manage to read the rest of the series-?”

“OOLONG, YOU MUST SAY SOMETHING!” Pap nearly shouted as he and Edge were starting to reach a breaking point with Axe. “‘SPRINKLES’ IS NOT AN ACCEPTABLE NAME FOR AN ALLIGATOR!”

“I think it’s an excellent name.” Oolong said quietly. Edge opened his snarling fangs, about to speak his mind, that he thought Axe was being stupid just to irritate him, when she raised a finger to her pale lips. He shut his mouth immediately of his own accord. “Now then, next question for you darlings. Hm?”

Oolong looked at her crystal ball and her pale brow furrowed. “No, no that won’t do…” she mumbled, and swiped her fingers at the air. The fog swirled rapidly, like water down a drain, before settling back into its lethargic pace.

Ah, this one was interesting. But to answer it, she would need to distract them.

“Yes, I believe I owe you one answer, don’t I?”

Each brother immediately leaned forward and their voices clashed together in the small space as they vied for attention. Oolong held her hands over her ears and the walls of the room shook, showering them with dust from the ceiling. They all paused to look up, their red, white, and purple lights wide, as the shaking stopped in the quiet.

“There is a reason for my rule.” Oolong said gently, but there was a dangerous undercurrent flowing beneath her words. “Pick one question, then ask. But do so quietly, please.”

The brothers leaned their heads together to whisper amongst themselves. Oolong gave a small sigh, grateful that they were respecting her one rule. Usually, they didn’t.

“Now…” Oolong bent over the swirling smoke beneath the crystal and stared into its depths.

_ ‘What embarrassing thing would Edge and Milord go to any lengths to protect?’ _

Oolong smirked and looked up towards the two brothers in question. Focusing on Edge, she looked back to the crystal. The smoke inside parted and colors began to form within…

_ Edge was alone in the dark kitchen, late at night as he could tell by the stars shining brightly in the sky outside. He snickered and pulled at one of the drawers. With a second, and a third, glance over his shoulder to make sure he was absolutely alone. (and a tilt of his skull to the ceiling, just to make sure the house was sleeping) He pulled out the contents of the drawer and threw it over his skull. The pink apron that Papyrus would sometimes wear fit like a tailored glove, and Edge cackled to himself as he admired his reflection in the window over the sink. _

Oolong snorted, her pale hand flying up to cover her mouth before her laughter alerted her subject. Taking a deep breath, and a calming sip of her steaming special-tea, she focused on Milord and looked once more into the crystal ball. A familiar scene began to take shape.

_ He laid on the bed over the cream colored sheets with Zeta sitting on his hips. She couldn’t see him with his skull hanging over the bed; couldn’t see the way he was then as her hands worked her kind of magic on him. The flush over his skull, the moans he had to bite back and his struggle to keep still and silent as those touches she gave him melted him into a puddle. The way he completely fell apart, to the point he couldn’t think or do or be anything except the thing she wanted him to be in that moment. _

Oolong wiped the scene away with a flick of her wrist, a devilish smirk hidden by the ruby red hair she let fall into her face. Of course, he would be most embarrassed by anything that made him lose his composure so completely. Even when he had claimed her, he had his wits about him, for the most part.

“WE KNOW OUR QUESTION, SICKLY LOOKING HUMAN!” Edge announced, drawing Oolong out of her viewings.

“WE WANT TO KNOW WHY WE KNOW THINGS!” Pap proclaimed proudly.

“...as in… how we know… you.” Axe used this opportunity, while his brothers were focused on Oolong, to snatch the last of the unattended treats.

“Also, why we seem to have knowledge that we shouldn’t.” Milord added, “Such as why we know of creatures, things, cultural norms, and places that would normally be unknowns to us.”

“Easy,” Oolong shrugged and held up the stone teapot to refill their china cups. “My special-tea. It contains a bit of my knowledge that I choose to share with you so that we can discuss topics that would normally be beyond your comprehension. You’ve all met me before, we’ve always known each other, you just don’t remember it.”

Even as the others opened their jaws to ask more, Milord held out a gloved hand to stop them.

“An answer for an answer. We can ask more after she asks us another.”

Oolong smiled gently and pushed the cups towards each brother in turn. “Good boy. Now, given that you understand how you know things, I get to ask more difficult questions. Let’s start with this hypothetical. You are all now free from Mt. Ebott and may go anywhere in the world you like and, if you want, you may bring one person with you. Keep in mind this would be your first time leaving the mountain, but where would you go?”

The brothers all looked between each other, dumbfounded by such a question. Pap and Axe stared at each other with wide eye lights. Edge’s gaze fell as he glared at the contents of his cup, and Milord turned his gaze back towards the books on the wall.

“If you like, you can also tell me what your favorite fruits and vegetables are.” Oolong offered and set the silver dome back on the platter. “I find snacks are always helpful when I’m thinking, but your sweet little human would murder me if she found out I was only feeding you sweets.”

Axe, at the mention of food, was dutifully the first to answer. “...apples and… water sausage.”

Oolong nodded and turned to Pap, leaving Axe to contemplate his answer to the previous question. “For you, Pap?”

“STRAWBERRIES AND CUCUMBERS.” Pap scratched at his skull. “COULD I, UM, LOOK AT A MAP? I’M HAVING A HARD TIME UNDERSTANDING WHERE THESE PLACES YOU LET ME KNOW ABOUT ARE.”

“Sure, here you go.” Oolong reached towards the bookshelf and pulled a roll of old, cracked paper out and gently set it in Pap’s red mittens. “Just be careful you don’t get it near the candles. When you’re done, just roll it up and slip in among the books.”

“I DON’T CARE, PICK FOR ME.” Edge huffed and looked at the crystal ball again. Oolong snapped her fingers and brought his attention up from the dark, wooden table.

“Don’t stare at that too long,” she warned coolly. “It’s okay to admit your favorite things here, Edge. None of you will remember being here after you leave.”

Edge glanced out of the corner of his sockets at his brothers. He leaned forward, his sharp voice low, “PROMISE?”

“You don’t remember being here before, do you?” Oolong reached over the table and straightened his red scarf like a wife straightening her husband’s tie. “And who am I going to tell? These books already have their own stories, they won’t repeat anything that’s not already written.”

Edge scowled, but said, “POMEGRANATE AND BROCCOLI.”

“And for you, Milord?” Oolong asked, watching out of the corner of her black eyes to see if Edge would try to crystal gaze behind her back.

Milord continued to stare at the books, a faraway look in his purple lights. He said, not even aware she had asked another question. “If I had to pick one place, the first place, I would like to take Zeta to Venice in Italy or I would bring Mutt to Tokyo in Japan. Don’t ask me to pick between them.”

Oolong smiled, her black eyes softening ever so slightly, and gently reminded him of her other question.

“Peaches and carrots.”

Before she lifted the silver dome from the tray, Oolong looked expectantly towards Axe. “The plate never runs out, Axe, but you should answer the other questions before you become distracted.”

Axe frowned, not happy in the least that this woman was withholding food that she had already offered. “...I would take… Butch and Willow to… Hawaii in… the States.”

Oolong rolled her eyes, not having the heart to make him choose between one or the other, either. She removed the silver dome and pushed the tray forward.

“OH, WE’RE ALLOWED TO BRING TWO?” Pap, who had been listening to Axe’s answer, smiled. “THAT MAKES IT A LOT EASIER, THEN! I WOULD BRING SANS AND HONEY TO PARIS IN FRANCE!”

“THE QUESTION WAS FOR ONE PERSON, YOU NUMBSKULLS.” Edge glared at his brothers. “IF WE LOSE OUR ANSWER FOR YOUR FOOLISH RESPONSES…”

“Well, what’s your answer, Edge?” Oolong asked, taking a bit of pomegranate from the tray and popping a fleshy, red seed into her mouth.

Edge rolled his red eye lights irritably and mumbled, “OSLO, NORWAY. I GUESS I’LL BRING MY USELESS BROTHER, EVEN THOUGH HE WOULDN’T APPRECIATE IT.”

Oolong smiled knowingly and offered Edge a bit of the tart, red fruit. “You know that Oslo is the birthplace of metal, right?”

“I WOULD, HAD YOU CHOSEN TO GIFT ME THAT INFORMATION.” Edge growled and glanced at his brothers, who were watching the exchange with interest. Edge’s nasal ridge turned ever so slightly black and he turned to avoid their stares.

Yes, he knew full well. Oolong smiled and put a hand on her hip. He just didn’t want to admit who he was really making his choice for.

“Do you have a question for me,” Oolong said, drawing the attention to her reedy self, “Or should I continue with mine?”

“WHY DO WE FORGET YOU WHEN WE LEAVE?” Pap asked immediately, before Axe or Milord could jump in. He received scowls from both. “YOU’RE VERY SWEET, IT WOULD BE NICE IF WE COULD SEE MORE OF YOU AT HOME. HONEY WOULD LIKE YOU.”

Oolong’s persistent smile fell slightly, turning sad. “Because, hun, I don’t exist for you outside of this room. But if it makes you feel better, I do watch over you and help you when I can.”

“...and you can… tell us this… because we won’t… remember?” Axe frowned, his bony brow furrowed with a mixture of worry, frustration, and confusion. “...all of us?”

“You’re worried that I’m causing your brothers to have memory issues?” Oolong reached out and put a comforting hand on Axe’s bony shoulder. “I’m not doing anything like that, with these visits. But, out of curiosity, what would you do if you knew one of your brothers had memory issues like you? Granted, you’ve only forgotten one event, but the question stands.”

Axe’s single red light looked over to his brothers and it wavered sadly. “...I don’t… know. ...how can you… talk about something… you can’t remember? ...I only know… what I do… because of Butch.”

Oolong leaned back in her cushion, her smile falling at the heavy atmosphere the room was gaining as Axe’s brothers watched him with pity in their eye lights. “Oh, here’s a good question. Milord, are you aware of all of the microscopic organisms that live on the body at any given moment?”

Milord turned to Oolong, his purple lights widening as he searched his skull for the knowledge. Once it hit him, his sockets turned black and his jaw fell open. “The WHAT?!”

He jumped from his cushion like he had been electrocuted and started whirling around to check himself, like his eye lights could see something that small. The sight of his panic sent Edge into a fit of jeering laughter, and Pap immediately got to his feet to try and calm Milord down.

Oolong took the chance to pour just a little bit of special-tea into Axe and Milord’s cups when they weren’t looking. She held up Milord’s cup, offering it to him with the words, “Here, drink this first and then you can use the bath I have in the back if you want.”

At the mention of someplace to clean himself, Milord obligingly threw back the tea. His demeanor suddenly became calm and he looked around the room, at his brothers, with a curious gleam in his lights. Oolong patted the cushion, knowing that he didn’t remember the previous question, or the knowledge with it, and so the crisis had been averted for now.

“Perhaps later, then?” She asked as he resumed his seat, much to the bewildered looks from Pap, Edge, and Axe. “Axe, sweetie, why don’t you have some tea, too? It’ll stimulate your appetite.”

“LIKE THAT BLACK HOLE NEEDS IT.” Edge glanced at Milord out of the corner of his sockets, worry shining clearly in his eye lights, but chose not to say anything.

“You know, I’d like to know,” Oolong asked as Axe took a sip of his tea, forgot his troubles, and regained his usual vacant grin, “If you like food so much, would you ever join an eating contest? You could win money, you know.”

“WE DON’T NEED MONEY, OR YOUR CHARITY.” Edge glared at Oolong, his red lights narrowing to thin slits. “THE MONEY I MAKE FOR THE GUARD IS MORE THAN ADEQUATE FOR THE HOUSE. NOT TO MENTION MILORD’S SALARY, OR SANS’ FORTUNE.”

“It could still be fun.” Oolong shrugged, her oversized black dress slipping a bit on her slim shoulders. “What do you think, Axe? You and Butch could both participate and could eat as much as you want.”

Axe gazed at Oolong, his red eye light wide and shining, with a broad, excited grin on his skull. “...yes.”

“What about the rest of you?” Oolong asked as she gazed into her crystal ball once more. Her smile fell, for only a split second, and she flicked her wrist. That small motion was missed by the brothers, as was the swirling of the smoke. “Since we’re on the subject of competition, what kind of sport do you think you’d enjoy the most? This could be something you participate in or simply watch and can range from normal to extreme.”

“OOO, SKIING!” Pap said loudly, his excitement apparent from the way he bounced in his cushion. “I BET IT WOULD BE AMAZING TO ZIP DOWN A MOUNTAIN THAT FAST!”

“THEN WHY NOT JUST TAKE A SHORTCUT?” Edge asked in an exasperated sort of way. “IF YOU WANT TO DO SOMETHING FUN, DO RUGBY.”

“...skydiving.” Axe joined in. “...without a ….parachute. ...you can fall… really fast and ...just teleport ...to the ground when ...you get too close.”

“I have no interest in sports.” Milord said coolly, with a glance at Oolong. “As a spectator or otherwise. Here’s a question for you, Oolong, how much longer is this going to be? I have important things to get back to and I’ve entertained you long enough.”

“Your time here is no time at all.” Oolong took a piece of carrot from the silver tray and bit through it with resounding crunch. “It’s the space between blinks, the pause between breaths. No one will notice your absence, nor will you notice any time has passed when you get back.”

“How is that-”

“What’s your guy’s favorite season?” Oolong asked, interrupting Milord. Milord scowled and sank into his cushion as he crossed his arms in irritation. He did not like feeling like he didn’t understand something. In this case, his situation. “What do you like to do during that time?”

“I LIKE SPRING THE MOST.” Pap drained the rest of his china cup and held it out to Oolong, who happily filled it with more tea. “IT’S THE STRANGEST OF THE SEASONS. SINCE DISTRICT ONE WAS ALWAYS WINTER, IT STILL FASCINATES ME TO WATCH ALL THE SNOW MELT AWAY AND FOR EVERYTHING TO TURN GREEN INSTEAD.”

“...same.” Axe nodded at Pap. “...you like to… go through the woods… with me, then, don’t you?”

“YES! YOU ALWAYS KNOW WHERE TO FIND THE NEATEST THINGS!”

“FALL.” Edge said simply while he poked at the silver platter. He didn’t choose anything to eat, but rather he just pushed the offered food around with the red leather covering his finger. “THE COLORS REMIND ME OF… WELL, I’VE NEVER EXPERIENCED IT MYSELF, BUT YOUR TEA MAKES ME WANT TO TRY HALLOWEEN.”

“Winter. It makes tracking easier.” Milord said quickly and got onto his feet so that he could lean across the table at Oolong. “Now tell me how this place can occupy such a strange space-time.”

Oolong sighed irritably for the first time that night and raised her eyebrow at Milord. “You always get to the difficult questions eventually, don’t you?”

“Since we won’t remember anyway, just answer them.” Milord smirked, a triumphant gleam in his purple lights.

“Because I want it to be that way, plain and simple.” Oolong stood, her tall, reedy frame easily towering over Milord’s short stature. The candles around the room flickered and dimmed with her next words, “I know you want answers, but that’s the best I can give you that you would understand and accept. Do not. Push. This. Further.”

Milord held his ground, at first, but as he watched the woman named Oolong seemed to grow in the encroaching darkness, filling the circular room with her thin frame, and sucked all the air from it with her breath. Cowed, Milord resumed his seat on the cushion, and the room returned to its former, friendly glow.

“YOU ALWAYS DO THAT, YOU KNOW.” Edge said without sarcasm or even a touch of sharpness to his voice. “OR I DO. EITHER ONE OF US ENDS UP PISSING HER OFF AND THIS TURNS BAD. EVEN I’M NOT STUBBORN ENOUGH TO PUSH THAT THING TOO FAR.”

“Smart boy.” Oolong huffed and wiped at her baggy black dress. “Now, where were we?”

“...questions.” Axe offered, seemingly unfazed by the sudden display of power from Oolong. Pap, on the other hand, sat quite still.

“Ah, yes. Maybe it’s time we do some individual questions for a while. Pap?” Oolong turned to the tallest of the skeleton brothers, a gentle smile once more one her pale face. “How about we start with you? Want to tell me about your favorite kind of puzzle?”

“OH, UM,” Pap pulled at his red mittens and avoided her gaze. He knew he could trust her, but that display made him uneasy. Not even Sans commanded magic on that level. “CAN I… HAVE A QUESTION AFTER?”

“Of course you can.”

Their host covered the silver platter with its dome for a second and just as quickly removed it to reveal a mixture of their favorite foods; both the fruits and vegetables as well as the desserts. Her return to her usual friendly demeanor encouraged Pap and he nodded while politely sipping at his tea.

“I SUPPOSE I LIKE PUZZLE BOXES BEST.” Pap said with a glance at his brothers to check on them. Axe seemed perfectly comfortable, Edge was watching their host with a look that was obviously great respect, and Milord simply waited and watched for more information. “THEY’RE USEFUL AFTER YOU SOLVE THEM, SINCE YOU CAN HIDE THINGS IN THEM AND RESET THE PUZZLE AGAIN.”

“So is that what you like to do usually in your free time to relax?”

“OH, NO, THAT’S NOT THE ONLY THING.” Pap felt the tension in his shoulders ease a bit as he sipped more tea and took a strawberry from the silver platter to pop into his mouth. “I ALSO LIKE WOODWORKING. I MEAN THE KIND WHERE I CAN ACTUALLY MAKE DESIGNS ON THINGS, NOT JUST THE FIXING BROKEN STUFF PART.”

“What, no bubble baths?” Oolong asked, a sly smirk on her face. “With bath bombs and all that fun stuff?”

An orange flush filled Pap’s skull and Oolong giggled.

“Don’t worry, Pap. The others do them, too.”

“Absolutely not!” Milord interjected. “What is the point of a bath besides wallowing in your own filth?! Do not spread lies about me, Oolong!”

“...I would. ...take a bath…. I mean.” Axe smiled at Pap and offered him a half eaten cinnamon roll. He didn’t want to pretend he hadn’t noticed his brother’s discomfort, and that was the best way he knew to cheer someone up. Axe smiled as Pap took the offered roll. Who could stay upset when someone shared food with you?

“Would you use a bath bomb?” Oolong asked. At Axe’s nod, she asked about the scent.

“...I like… lavender.”

“AXE THAT’S STUPID,” Edge growled irritably and watched Pap out of the corner of his socket for a reaction about the question. Somehow, despite being slightly shorter than Pap, Edge gave off the impression he was looking down on him. “I WOULD USE PATCHOULI.”

“I PREFER SANDALWOOD.” Pap admitted, his confidence returning as he found out his brothers also bathed every now and then instead of using just the normal shower.

“...Willow uses lavender… sometimes.” Axe said, defending his choice with a slight frown on his skull.

“THE PET IS FEMALE, OF COURSE THAT MAKES SENSE FOR HER TO USE THAT SCENT.” 

“...what does it matter… that she’s a female? ...I can… use that scent, too.”

Oolong smiled and shook her head in an affectionate sort of way. She glanced at her crystal ball for the next question, wondering what would be next.

_ ‘Is Pap a virgin?’ _

Oolong quickly swiped the question from the smoke, despite knowing that the brothers could not read the ball as she could. She ran her fingers through her messy, dark, ruby red hair and laughed to herself.

“He’s not the only one, sweetheart.”

“WHAT’S THAT?” Pap asked, turning his skull to Oolong at the sound of her soft voice. “I DIDN’T HEAR YOUR QUESTION.”

“What’s your favorite thing to make with your little lady?” Oolong asked, quickly covering for her slip of the tongue. She couldn’t let them know, after all, that there were others watching.

Pap’s skull broke out into a broad grin. “ANYTHING, REALLY. BUT I’M REALLY LOOKING FORWARD TO WHATEVER WE MAKE TOGETHER FOR OUR DATE.”

“Oh, yes, that’s going to be a lot of fun for you.” Oolong smiled and twirled her finger around the top of the crystal ball. “That’s the last question I have for you personally, Pap. There are more for all of you, so you’ll have more to answer later, but you can ask your question now, if you like.”

“REALLY?” Pap asked, dropping a cookie he had taken from the silver platter in surprise.

“Yes, really. I’ve been quite good about interweaving these kinds of questions to all of you, but some of them just work better if I address each of you on your own. I won’t count that as your question, so ask away.”

“OH! YES, UM,” Pap tapped the cookie he retrieved against the side of his white teacup. “ARE YOU REALLY HUMAN, OR SOME KIND OF MONSTER?”

“I’m human, I assure you.” Oolong nodded and her red hair fell in her face as she did this. She wiped the messy strands away and turned her pale face towards the other end of the table. “Milord-”

“Do I get a question?”

“...no.” Oolong said coolly. “But I will give you something else by the end of your individual questions. Firstly, your preference and why. Rubix cube or chess?”

Milord raised a bony brow at the question, taken slightly aback that it was nothing so personal like the other questions had been. “Chess, of course. While the cube has its complexity, there is only one true victory when it has been solved. Chess, on the other had, varies from opponent to opponent, and the variety of strategies that can be employed by the players are quite vast indeed. That, and your opponent has a chance to better themselves before they face you again, so there is always that element of surprise to consider.”

“But you can do the cube solo.” Oolong pointed out. “You always need a second player to have a good game of chess. It’s no fun to play by yourself.”

“So be it.” Milord shrugged. “I receive no joy from conquering that which is fixed and predictable.”

“Alright, fair enough.” Oolong took a sip of her tea and selected a slice of cucumber for herself. “My next question is this scenario: You must, for ten seconds, hug one of your brothers without your gloves on. Who do you choose?” 

If he could, Milord’s bony face would have paled. Instead, he just sat quite still and stared at the human across the table.

“Yes, you have to.” Oolong sighed, answering the question that was buzzing in his skull.

Milord glanced at his brothers, who were watching him while he answered his individual questions, and gritted his teeth. His eye lights flickered towards Edge, who was the cleanest of the family besides himself, but he would just as soon choose Sans, who he considered the dirtiest.

“Ugh, fine, I choose Pap.” Milord growled and crossed his arms irritably. He grumbled under his breath, “He maintains a more regular hygiene schedule compared to the rest of my brothers.”

“Hmm, at least you tried.” Oolong shrugged and reached under the circular table. From its shadows, she drew a small, white box and placed it across the table in front of Milord. “This is for you.”

“WHY DOES TINY GET A GIFT!?” Edge snapped, watching enviously as Milord gingerly took the small box in his gloved hands. “WHY IS HE SO DAMN SPECIAL?!”

“You all get gifts, Edge.” Oolong winced at his loud tone. “And please keep it down, my head can’t take loud noises, remember?”

“I DIDN’T GET MINE.” Pap pouted.

“Your gift is my answer.” Oolong added quickly, at the look of betrayal quickly forming on Pap’s skull, “Not for what you asked me, but for the question you carry in your soul. Don’t think I haven’t heard it.”

“MY SOUL QUESTION?” Pap looked down at his white chestplate, as if he was expecting to see something written there.

“ARE YOU SOME KIND OF… WITCH?” Edge asked Oolong as he searched his skull for the definition while Milord dug through the tissue paper inside the box. “YOU ARE HUMAN BUT CAN DO MAGIC. THAT SHOULD BE IMPOSSIBLE.”

“Not quite.” Oolong winked at him, then turned her attention to Milord.

Milord pulled a mug out of the tissue paper. It was white, with an elegantly curved handle. The words, ‘stressed but well dressed’ were written across the side in bold, yet elegant print.

A small smile tugged at the corners of his sharp teeth and he closed his sockets. Despite his position as Captain, he did not receive any gifts. He couldn’t remember if he had ever gotten one before that did not come from Zeta.   
“Well? What do you think?” Oolong asked as she watched Milord stare at the mug with a small smile and soft eye lights. 

He clearly appreciated it, but out loud he said, “Well, at least it’s practical.”

“OOO! I WANT MY ANSWER NOW!” Pap got up onto his knees in excitement. Considering how tall he was, his haste caused him to bump the circular table and sent it crashing to the floor. Axe leapt to save the silver tray and its spread. Edge managed to snatch the stone teapot before it shattered against the black, marble floor; but the china teacups were not so lucky. Milord simply backed away so that none of the splashing tea could get on him and lifted his mug out of harm's way.

Oolong shrieked and dove for the crystal ball. Her all or nothing dive saved the huge, delicate sphere from shattering, but the determinedly blank expression on her face as she surfaced above the toppled table gave all of the brothers chills.

“No worries.” She sighed and flicked her fingers. The cups flew back onto the table and reassembled themselves, the spilled tea evaporated, and she gently set the crystal ball back in the center. “No worries,” she repeated, though there was a slight strain to her voice. “Just, please, be more careful.”

“SORRY.” Pap sat back down on his cushion. “I DIDN’T MEAN-”

“It’s fine, Pap.” Oolong said firmly, ending Pap’s apology. “I know you, I know you meant nothing by it. But your answer must wait until the end of your visit. I can’t have it mulling your other answers to my questions.”

“OH, FINE.” Pap huffed and reached for the silver platter, but it was no longer there. Axe still had it in his hands, and he was dumping its ever-filling contents into his mouth. “AXE! STOP THAT!”

“Pfft, leave him.” Oolong giggled, watching Axe’s grin widen as the others looked on in disgust. “I always enjoy watching a skeleton throw up. There aren’t many times in life you get to witness that.”

“STOP HIM!” Edge and Milord howled at the same time and leapt to their feet. Both were concerned for the same things. One, there were no windows in the circular walls for ventilation. Two, there was no tell how much Axe could hold until he burst, but there was not a lot of space in the room for those contents to go.

Milord held Axe around the middle while Edge attempted to yank the platter from his hands. Axe snarled and tightened his grip as he tried to take the plate back. Pap, sensing danger, grabbed both Axe and the platter and tore it from his grasp. The combined force sent the platter flying into the wall, where it sliced a candle in two before burying itself in the black marble and effectively became a new silver shelf.

“I’M-” Pap started to say, turning towards Oolong, who waved the apology away with an amused chuckle.

“Not the first time it’s happened.” Oolong picked the silver box containing the chocolates off of the book shelf and showed Pap the dented corner. “No worries.”

“...if she doesn’t… run out…” Axe grumbled and stared up at the silver platter. Even as his red light watched, the food faded from the dish and the silver melted into an ornate shelf that ate the wax from the ruined candle before it sprouted half a dozen already lit candles. “...then why can’t I… have as much… as I want?”

“BECAUSE IT’S RUDE!” Pap snapped. Oolong quietly watched the exchange while she sipped from her white teacup. “WE DON’T LET YOU DO THAT AT HOME, SO DON’T DO IT IN FRONT OF THE NICE LADY!”

“I am not nice.” Oolong shook her head and her messy red hair fell in her face to hide her expression. If they knew what she had done to them, and would do, they would not say that she was nice. “I may be pleasant now, but that mood will not last. But, like the tide, it will always return.”

“WHY WOULD YOU SAY SOMETHING TO MAKE US DISLIKE YOU ON PURPOSE?” Edge asked, skepticism filling his sharp voice as he resumed his spot on his cushion. All round the circular table, his brothers followed suit.

“So, Axe,” Oolong purred and shook her mane of hair from her face to reveal a gentle smile. She blatantly ignored Edge’s question as she poured more tea from the stone pot into the cups before her guests. “Given that you love food so much, I feel like I must ask: If you had to spend a week eating only one meal, and this means three times a day for seven days, what would you choose?”

Without hesitation, Axe replied, “...cinnamon rolls.”

“You do realize you could add any other flavor to constitute the condition of a meal?” Milord sighed at Axe and shook his skull in exasperation. “Flavor is the only component that makes a variety of food worthwhile.”

“True, magic is the only nutrient that monsters require. Though, it is sweet of you to let your little human worry over your diets.” Oolong nodded thoughtfully and stared at her crystal ball. Her reedy shoulders sagged ever so slightly as she saw how little time she had left. “So if it was you, Milord, what would you choose?”

Milord hummed thoughtfully and stared at his steaming cup, at the swirls and shapes that twisted around in the vapor before they vanished towards the black, marble ceiling. There were so many possibilities and combinations to consider. Should he choose something that is merely tolerable, so that he appreciated the variety once it returned, or allow a bit of self indulgence that might spoil his opinion of those flavors in the future?

“Let’s give him a minute.” Oolong grinned as Milord cupped his chin in contemplation and stared a hole in his teacup. “Axe, sweetie? This is for you.”

From beneath the circular table, Oolong produced a ragdoll plushie of a wolf. It was well made, with realistic looking fur and anatomy, even though it had small, black buttons for eyes. Axe snatched it out of her pale hands, a wide grin over his skull, as he immediately began to turn the plush over to examine it from every angle.

“...I like this.” Axe announced and stuffed the wolf inside of his threadbare hoodie for safekeeping. Pap gave a small sigh and watched him while his white eye lights flickered with envy. “...I’ll put it… next to that skull… that I found in… the woods.”

Oolong nodded, “A fitting place for it. Milord, do you have your answer?”

Milord raised his skull and nodded. “Hard tack.”

“UGH, THAT DISGUSTING, FLAVORLESS BISCUIT?” Edge’s nasal ridge scrunched ever so slightly in revulsion. “THAT WAS ALL THEY GAVE US FOR RATIONS DURING OUR TRAINING FOR THE ROYAL GUARD. WHY WOULD YOU EVER WANT TO TOUCH THAT GARBAGE AGAIN?”

“To remind myself of the effort it took to climb from nothing and obtain my position,” Milord replied icily, his purple lights narrowed at Edge, “and to renew my own sense of discipline. You could benefit from such an act, Edge.”

“Edge, darling,” Oolong said, a layer of honey over her soft voice, as she distracted the two brothers before either had a chance for their tempers to rise. “I have some questions for you, too.”

“DO I HAVE TO?” Edge sighed irritably and rolled his red eye lights. “I THOUGHT YOU WERE GOING TO LEAVE ME OUT OF THIS ROUND OF PERSONAL THINGS. I DON’T WANT TO DO THEM.”

“Oh, they’re not that bad, and I know you’re having fun too, even if you won’t admit it.” Oolong shrugged and tapped her crystal ball. Inside, the smoke swirled around and she stared at the crystal for a moment before letting out a short laugh similar to a hyena. “Ah, this will be interesting. Edge, what would you do if you went home and everyone’s gender had been reversed? This means your brothers would all turn into sisters, and your little human would become a boy.”

The cup that Edge had just about to take a sip from shattered in his hand. His red eye lights shrank and his jaw fell open in horror as he stared at Oolong from across the table. He glanced, with an ever so slight movement of his skull, to the brothers sitting with him at the table.

“I WOULD MOVE BACK TO THE UNDERGROUND.” Edge growled, his red lights dilating as he recovered from the shock, and shook the tea from his finger bones. “I WOULD FIND A PLACE THEY COULD NEVER FIND ME, AND THEN FIND SOME PLACE EVEN MORE REMOTE THAN THAT. HAVING BROTHERS IS BAD ENOUGH, BUT SISTERS?”

In his mind, having that many sisters would turn into what he could only describe as a familial equivalent of a natural disaster. At least his brothers didn’t go into heat. The human was bearable during hers, Edge could ignore the scent, but female monsters got way too rowdy during their time.

“Fair enough,” Oolong chuckled. Yes, a female monster in heat was a totally different animal compared to a human. No wonder some of the brothers had been so terrified to hear that she got hers on a monthly basis. “Then how about something else for you. This question was posed earlier, but I would like to hear your answer to it. Who would you choose out of your brothers if you have to hug one of them for at least ten seconds?”

“NOPE.” Edge shook his skull as his brothers snickered at his side. “ASK SOMETHING ELSE. MY ANSWER IS NO.”

“Stop being a prat, Edge.” Milord sighed and took a sip of tea. “We had to answer our questions and you’re not some kind of exception to Oolong’s game.”

“WE’LL FORGET ANYWAYS, IF WHAT SHE SAID IS TRUE.” Pap offered, curious to hear the answer. He was by no means hoping it was himself, but this place seemed to have some strange ability to get his brothers to open up in ways that they never would otherwise. Or, perhaps, it was the woman. Either way, Pap was delighted to be able to learn so much about his family.

Maybe her answer to his soul question was how to remember all of this.

“NO.” Edge snapped and crossed his arms. He wasn’t going to answer no matter how much they tried to persuade him.

Oolong sighed and rolled her dark eyes. There had to be one question, at least one, that he would refuse to answer. She looked down to the crystal ball while the brothers tried to talk Edge into giving his answer, and she saw the figure in the smoke. 

Edge would hug Butch. Edge wasn’t the best at displays of affection, he was worse than Red in that regard, but he nursed a soft spot for Butch that he would never admit. Edge saw too much of himself in the youngest brother, too much that he didn’t have himself anymore and too much he was willing to protect. Even if by giving said protection cost him any affection his brothers might have for him.

“Oh, you darling boy.” Oolong said quietly and gave a small sniff. The brothers, who were still trying to coax the answer out of Edge, did not hear her. “You’re such a softie underneath all that stone. I can’t wait for the others to see it, too.”

She looked down to her crystal ball, for the next question adrift in the swirling smoke.

_ ‘What did they want to be as kids?’ _

Oolong looked up at the four brothers as their conversation changed from persuasion to teasing in the hopes that Edge would burst out the answer in a rage. She gave a soft smile at them. One of them, she could not ask, but the others, she could. But since they would all think it unfair that one of them was omitted from a question, she would have to give the answer a different way.

Axe, had he had the capabilities back then, in the place he had lived, had wanted nothing more than to find himself the alpha of his dreams and settle down. He was, and still very much is, a family man. Even when the baby Butch came into his life, that only solidified his desire to have one that was truly his own.

Pap; he had wanted to become a pop star. However, the Underground forbids all music that had not been created by Mettaton, so that hope was dashed quite early. It then switched to becoming a member of the Royal Guard, since he could still become popular and he could help people, too.

Milord always knew he would be a military man. He grew up admiring Queen Cinn and her efforts to protect the Underground. It just so happened that he managed to accomplish his dream though no small effort on his part. But his desired end goal that had been born of that dream had yet to be accomplished: the true liberation of the Underground.

“Humm, so I have a question for all of you,” Oolong picked up the dented silver tin and shook it, using the rattle of the chocolate inside to draw the attention of the brothers.

“BUT EDGE HASN’T ANSWERED YOUR QUESTION!” Pap huffed indignantly as Edge, tight jawed and stony, slouched in his cushion. “IT’S NOT FAIR IF HE GETS TO SKIP ONE, I WANT TO KNOW!”

“I’m sorry, Pap,” Oolong slid the tin across the dark wood towards them. Axe eagerly snatched it up and popped a dark chocolate truffle into his mouth. “He did answer, you just didn’t listen to it.”

“He did no such thing!” Milord snapped coldly. “We would have heard it!”

“Perhaps you just don’t know how to listen, then. It’s hard to hear someone else if you’re too busy moving your own jaw.” Oolong winked at them, then said to Edge, “Don’t worry, darling. I won’t repeat it. Let’s just move on, hm?”

“WHAT’S THE NEXT ONE?” Edge asked, quite eager for a change in subject that would draw his brother’s attention away from his unanswered question. Though, Edge couldn’t help but feel curious towards the woman. Had she lied when she said she had heard his answer? He didn’t say anything, he had only thought about it. There was only a low buzzing, like bees, coming from her soul; he could not tell if she had any fluctuation in emotion at all and so he couldn’t tell if she was lying.

“I’d like to know your views on equality.” Oolong said, smiling at their wide lights and surprise. “Yes, it’s quite a deep question, compared to the others. But this is the last one I have that pertains to you personally. The rest are all your thoughts on someone else. Feel free to say as much or as little as you like on the subject, but do keep in mind that this includes both humans and monsters. I mention this only because I know you would think of your home for this question, but you must keep the rest of the world in mind.”

The brothers looked at one another. To say they were confused by such a question would be inaccurate. In truth, none of them had given it much thought. They believed what they believed but had never been asked to put it into words before. It was much more difficult than they thought and they sat in silence for awhile, sipping tea and taking the occasional chocolate from the silver tin, while they contemplated their answers.

“I THINK WE’RE ALL THE SAME, AT SOME LEVEL.” Pap was the first to speak, and his loud voice carried his words carefully while he stared at the dregs of his tea. “MONSTER OR HUMAN, WE BOTH HAVE SOULS AND MAGIC INSIDE THEM. ISN’T THAT ENOUGH? EVEN TALKING ABOUT JUST MONSTERS, OUR SIZE OR SHAPE OR POWER DOESN’T MATTER SINCE WE ALL LABEL OURSELVES UNDER THE SAME SPECIES.”

“Equality isn’t defined by similarity, Papyrus.” Milord explained gently, “It means whether or not we all have the same standing regardless of how one is born, or raised, or the opportunities one is given in life. In that sense, equality is something that is given by society to its subjects based on the beliefs of one’s peers.”

“...but it shouldn’t… matter. ...those things.” Axe ignored the silver tin Edge slid back towards him in favor of examining his wolf plushie. “...we all… end up dust… one day. ...who cares if… you’re monster or human or…. whatever. ...as long as you… are happy, why should… we rank… each other?”

“BECAUSE NO ONE IS EQUAL, AXE.” Edge sighed and traced the rim of his teacup with the red leather on his fingertip. “TAKE THE FOUR OF US, FOR EXAMPLE. WE ARE ALL SKELETONS, BROTHERS, BUT WE HAVE VERY DIFFERENT STANDINGS. SOCIALLY, YOU ARE AT THE BOTTOM. YOU WERE NEAR FERAL; THE UNDERGROUND DOESN’T HOLD YOU IN HIGH REGARD. PAP IS A NORMAL CITIZEN AND SO HE IS PLACE ABOVE YOU. I’M A MEMBER OF THE GUARD, SO I’M CONSIDERED MORE VALUABLE THAN YOU BOTH, BUT MILORD IS CAPTAIN. HIS LIFE IS WORTH MORE THAN OURS COMBINED.”

“BUT THAT’S IF YOU’RE THINKING LIKE THE QUEENS.” Pap pointed out. “IF YOU, AS EDGE, ARE THINKING OF US, WOULD YOU CONSIDER ONE OF US MORE IMPORTANT THAN THE OTHER? YOU HAVE YOUR RANKING OF US BASED ON OUR POWER, WOULD YOU FOLLOW THAT SYSTEM?”

“I don’t think that’s the important question here.” Oolong said gently, interjecting herself into the conversation when she had, so far, simply listened. “Let me try rephrasing it, since it sounds like you’re confused. I have two strangers, one is a monster and the other is a human. Do you think it’s right to say that one is more important than the other just because of how they were born? After all, they can’t help being who they are because of the whims of nature and circumstance.”

“...all that matters… to me,” Axe said, his red light rising from the wolf to rest on Oolong’s pale face. “...is if they… are good. ...I don’t care… about species.”

“I AGREE WITH AXE.” Pap nodded. “WHETHER WE’RE MONSTER OR HUMAN SHOULDN’T MATTER.”

“That’s beyond idealistic,” Milord sighed and fidgeted with his lettered mug. “You can say you consider us equal to them, but we are not. Our societies simply do not agree that our lives carry the same weight. Others may agree with that ideal, but unless everyone carries a similar mindset it will not affect universal treatment of individuals.”

“AND THEY NEVER WILL.” Edge nodded in agreement. “FOR ONCE, WE UNDERSTAND EACH OTHER, MILORD. EVEN IF WE COULD SAY MONSTERS AND HUMANS ARE EQUAL, THERE ARE STILL THE CIRCUMSTANCES OF BIRTH. IF EVERYONE IN THE WORLD WERE ALL BORN AS SKELETONS. THERE MIGHT NOT BE ANYTHING THAT MAKES US DIFFERENT, AT THAT POINT, BUT THOSE KINDS OF PEOPLE WOULD FIND ANYTHING THEY COULD USE TO PUT THEMSELVES ABOVE THE REST. THERE ARE THOSE WHO WOULD STILL CONSIDER THEMSELVES BETTER THAN OTHERS JUST BECAUSE THEY WERE BORN IN A CERTAIN PLACE OR BECAUSE THEIR FAMILIES COULD GIVE THEM CERTAIN THINGS.”

“...what do you… think, Oolong?” Axe asked with a tilt of his skull.

Oolong, who had been staring into the depths of her smoky crystal ball, looked up and smiled sadly. “It’s like you said, Axe. We all turn to dust someday. From ashes, to ashes.”

“Did that count as our question?” Milord set his mug back on the table and took a sip of tea from the china cup. His purple lights were resting on Oolong and her crystal ball.

“I’ll allow another. What’s on your mind, Milord?”

“That.” Milord pointed at the crystal ball. “You keep touching it and staring into it. The smoke responds to you. All the abnormal things you can do that are similar to magic, but not quite, I guess come from that. Is it the source of your power here?”

Oolong tipped back her head and her barking, hyena laughter filled the circular room. “No, it’s not the source. I am. This crystal merely focuses my power. If it were to break it would be quite disastrous for us all, wouldn’t it?”

“AND WHAT IS YOUR POWER?” Edge reached for the stone teapot, to refill his own cup, and Oolong intercepted his reach. He narrowed his red lights at her, at the crystal ball that had constantly pulled at his gaze the entire time he had been here. “YOUR MAGIC IS NOT LIKE ANY MONSTERS.”

“Ah, ah, no more questions until I ask mine.” Oolong wagged a finger at him and poured a generous amount of tea into his cup. “Speaking of unlike anything, I’d like to know whether or not any of you has had deja vu while living with your little human.”

Thanks to the properties of the special-tea, they all understood the human concept of deja vu, of feeling like something had happened before. They all shook their skulls.

“No?” Oolong raised an eyebrow and took a truffle from the neglected silver box. “I see, so that’s how it is. Very well, then let me ask something else. How would you feel if, say, your little human had arrived at your house that first day with all of her scars on display; her own fear of them gone?”

Edge threw back his skull and laughed; a sharp, tinkling noise like shattering glass. “I NEVER WOULD HAVE TRIED TO KILL HER, THAT’S FOR SURE! HA, MAYBE I WOULD HAVE AVOIDED HER AT FIRST, BUT IF SHE NEVER EXPLAINED HOW SHE GOT HER SCARS I WOULD EVENTUALLY HAVE CHALLENGED HER TO TEST MY OWN STRENGTH.”

Indeed, it was only his curiosity about her scars and her shame of them that kept him from challenging her since she revealed them.

“WELL, IF I DIDN’T KNOW HER AT ALL,” Pap shifted uncomfortably on his cushion. He did not like the first thought that came to mind, it made him feel guilty, but since this was not what happened... surely he couldn’t be the only one who felt this way? “I WOULD HAVE ASKED SANS TO MAKE HER LEAVE. ALL THOSE SCARS WOULD SUGGEST SHE WAS DANGEROUS.”

“...same.” Axe nodded. “...I know she… isn’t like that… now, but if I… didn’t know her… I wouldn’t want her… anywhere near Butch. ...if she wouldn’t… leave I...”

Axe drifted off, his red light falling to stare at the black marble floor. He couldn’t say it out loud, those awful words. If he didn’t know her and saw her as a threat, and she wouldn’t leave… he would have attacked her. Axe’s fingers clenched at the fabric of his grey shorts and his soul twinged painfully. Thank the lucky stars that wasn’t what happened.

“While I would not have asked her to leave,” Milord contemplated the silver tin before selecting a small, chocolate covered cookie for himself, “I would have kept a very close watch on her. My idea that she would be valuable research would not have changed. However, I would never have approached her unless it was necessary.”

“I see…” Oolong stood up from her cushion and her tall, reedy frame swayed for a moment while she got the feeling back to her legs. She carefully picked up the stone teapot and set it one one of the many bookshelves next to a jar containing a preserved millipede. “Then how about something on the opposite end of the spectrum. Say your little human came to you and sang you a special, sultry song. How would you react?”

She didn’t need to turn away from the bookshelf to know that their skulls had flushed their respective colors. Even Edge, who had already heard something almost similar, could not help but let his mind wander to the song that would have the most effect on his soul.

“Don’t be ridiculous,” Milord snapped, his voice icy cold despite the lavender flush across his cheekbones. “Zeta does not sing, nor would she fulfil the requirements for resonance. She’s human!”

If such a thing were to happen, he thought, he could lose control of himself. Which was unheard of. He, the Captain of the Royal Guard, never lost control under any situation or circumstance, no matter the temptation presented to him. He had already proven himself against her heat, surely a song would be just as easy to overcome?

“...she sings. ...I just don’t think… you’ve heard her.” Axe sighed, a dreamy look laid across his flushed skull, and his red eye light was a thick haze as it stared at the wall. “...if she… did that, I would… claim her right… then and there.”

“DON’T YOU TOUCH HONEY!” Pap growled and tackled Axe to the ground, his orange blush intensifying as he, too, internally admitted that would be exactly what he would want to do. Oolong rushed forward and snatched the crystal ball from the table just before the two wrestling brothers knocked into the table and sent it flying into a bookshelf.

“Edge?” Oolong asked, a smirk on her pale face as more than a few books toppled to the floor. She reversed their fall with a wave of her finger and gently placed the crystal ball on the remade shelf.

Edge watched Pap and Axe fight on the floor, his black flush fading. He had heard her sing before, had felt the pull of it on his soul, but it did not affect him beyond that. He simply did not hold that kind of affection for her, so it was impossible for him to be influenced to that extreme. Still, he had respect for her, to a certain extent. That was enough to feel the pull.

“I WOULDN’T CARE.” Edge shrugged. That didn’t change that he was a little jealous of his brothers who, judging by how they fought on the floor, knew how such a song would feel. He could only imagine what it might be like. But to hear it from that human, from the Pet... he shivered to try and get the gross feeling off of his bones. 

“Come on you two, don’t break my home.” Oolong crossed the room and gently pried Pap and Axe off each other. While her movements appeared gentle, they had to have great strength behind them to successfully separate the irritated skeletons. “These are just hypothetical, remember? No need for jealousy.”

“HMF.” Pap sat on the cold floor and glared at Axe. “WEASEL.”

Oolong rolled her dark eyes and bent so that her pale face touched the side of Pap’s skull. Her whispers did not carry, and the other brothers watched as the scowl fell from Pap’s skull to be replaced with a look of pure joy.

“YOU REALLY THINK SO!?” Pap shouted. Oolong quickly covered her ears, but Pap was too excited to care about his volume. He jumped to his feet, picked up her reedy frame, and twirled her around in the air. 

“...what did she… say?” Axe asked, confused by Pap’s sudden change.

“SHE ANSWERED MY SOUL QUESTION!” Pap squealed and dropped their host to the floor.

“Hm, well, just keep in mind that he has a lot to go through before he gets to that point.” Oolong straightened her baggy, black dress and ran her fingers through her messy, red hair. It didn’t tidy the ruby mane at all. Rather, it just made it more unkempt. “I know you notice more than he thinks you do, but he keeps it quiet for your sake.”

“Does that mean we’re finished here?” Milord asked, slightly disappointed, and rose from his cushion. A place stuck in between time meant he could relax indefinitely, and having someone keep his mind busy was the perfect distraction from his stresses.

“I’m afraid so.” Oolong sighed and held out a hand to help Axe to his feet. “Unless you would all rather stay for a sleepover? It could be fun, we could have pillow fights and play spin the bottle-”

“NOPE!” Edge jumped to his feet and was already halfway to the moss and earth colored beads hanging in the only doorway. “HELL NO, NOT WITH YOU OR ANYBODY!”

“I DON’T MIND!” Pap cheerfully answered. “STAYING HERE WITH YOU COULD BE FUN! AS LONG AS YOU DON’T ASK ANY MORE LEWD QUESTIONS ABOUT HONEY, THAT IS.”

“We can’t stay, Papyrus.” Milord picked up the cushions and set them on a messy pile in the corner, thinking that was the place they went when they were not in use. In actuality, that pile was the nest that Oolong slept in. “I also refuse to participate in that kind of sleepover under any circumstance, never mind with this woman and my brothers.”

“...I’ll stay with you.” Axe looked back towards Pap and Oolong, even as Edge ran face first into the glass beads. They had, somehow, solidified so that Edge could not leave.

“Sorry, Axe and Pap.” Oolong looked over to Edge, who was fuming with the beginnings of a rage. “The four of you have to leave together. Maybe some other time.”

“...can we… take these?” Axe held up the wolf plushie.

Oolong shook her head as she took the plushie and mug. Both Axe and Milord’s faces fell as their gifts were taken. “These will disappear the moment you leave with them. But don’t worry, I’ll keep them safe for the next time you visit.”

She set them on the shelves among all the other strange knickknacks, the gifts from visits prior. Not that the brothers remembered that these strange things were given to one of the nine, or who had received what.

“WILL WE SEE YOU AGAIN?” Pap asked.

“Of course you will. Now, stick together and make sure none of you linger behind.” Oolong said as she herded the brothers into a group before the curtain of hanging beads. “Don’t use your magic to guide your way down the hall. It makes the path coming in a lot shorter, but it’ll become longer if you leave with light. You don’t have to be afraid of the dark unknown if you stick together.”

And she shoved them all through the curtain. The glass beads, the colors of moss and earth, clinked with a dull, hollow sound as they swallowed the brothers up.

Oolong turned around to the clear space made on the black marble. She waved her hand and the crystal ball floated to the center of the space. It sank and the moment it touched the black marble, it melted down and a replica of the house on Lane 66 appeared like an overly large dollhouse. She touched the walls in various places and they turned transparent. She gave a soft smile as the tiny, moving figures of the brothers reappeared in their beds as they returned. The only exception was Edge, who stalked the dark halls with his own initiative.

With another flick of her wrist, a handful of books slid from the shelves and floated in the air around her. Most had writing in them already. One, however, was blank, and hovered at her side along with a feather pen and inkwell.

“Oh yes, there was one more question to answer.” Oolong twirled her pale hand and the books soared around her reedy frame until one in particular came to a halt in front of her face. Smoke drifted up from a small point on the black marble floor like a stick of incense burned beneath the stone. The smoke curled together to form words in the air.

_ ‘If they had kids, what kinds of dads would they be? How would they react to finding out she’s pregnant?’ _

Of course the brothers couldn’t answer this question, they hadn’t considered it yet. At least, their current selves hadn’t.

“If they were to have this happen now?” Oolong mumbled and opened the book midair to skim through the pages, “A different timeline, then, so we can assume that everyone is at that point where they would be able to try for a child with her, but one that doesn’t spoil any kind of future development… Ah, yes, here it is.”

She stopped somewhere in the late half of the book and turned her dark eyes upon the slanted chicken scratch that resembled words.

Axe would be overjoyed to find out he would be a father. He would follow her around everywhere, wanting to do as much as he can for her so that she doesn’t become stressed. Once the child was born, he would do his best to teach it the importance of family and would also take it on his wild prowling in the hopes that he could share his joy of nature with it. She would be kept quite busy with Axe and the kid, since their child would inherit some of Axe’s qualities. (Like his lack of control around food.) Naturally, he would become just as protective of the kid as he is of Butch and her.

Pap would rave about his unborn child, boasting about how great it would be, but that would be because he’s internally panicking about what the hell he’s going to do. He’ll need her reassurance that he’ll be a great father, and when the kid is born, he’ll strive to do just that. Pap would be the most balanced of the brothers. He would have a lot of fun with the kid but, thanks to his experience with Sans, he would also be quite capable when it came to fair discipline. It wouldn’t be very long before Pap would ask her for a second child.

Edge, assuming that he’s at that point where he would conceive with her, would nag her constantly if she’s getting enough. Food, sleep… anything. It would stress her out slightly. Once the kid arrived, he would become a bit overbearing in the hopes that he could protect them from the world. Essentially… a helicopter parent. But he would do his best in trying to teach them how to protect themselves and would raise them in a way that, no matter who said what about them, they would have the self confidence to shrug anything off.

Milord would be stunned to find out she’s expecting. In the beginning, he would be overwhelmingly stressed with worries of what could go wrong. He would want to take as much time as he can to care for her, but would become frustrated with himself that he would have to choose between his responsibilities. With her reassurances, he would relax a bit, but all that would come back again once the child is born. He would then shift his limited time to spending every second of it with both her and the kid, not only so that he can help teach them everything he thinks they need to know, but also to not feel guilty about spending time alone with either of them. (If you think he’s overworked now…)

Oolong nodded and shut the book, where it floated away to join the others that were slowly orbiting the house on the floor. That was an accurate answer for what would happen if it happened right at this point, but she knew that it would be different if it ever came to be at the proper time in the correct timeline. Their ways would change as they do, after all.

She looked down at the house that had once been the crystal ball. The future was so hard to predict. Who knew what kind of people these characters would come to be? There was so much they had yet to go through, so many trials that would test their very souls.

“Let’s get back to it then, shall we, darlings?” Oolong said gently and turned her hand like she was adjusting an invisible dial in the air. The interior of the house brightened and, while one figure went to bed, the others started to rise one by one. The feather pen dipped itself in the inkwell, then came to rest against the blank book floating by her messy mane of ruby red hair. As Oolong watched, the figures inside began to interact and the pen darted across the blank page to fill it with their lives.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fffwa! Last bonus chapter before we get back into the swing of things. I hope you enjoyed it, I had more fun than I admit coming up with the idea for this. I did play around with a game show idea, but I thought this worked a bit better.
> 
> To all of you wonderful people, thank you so much for your kind words and your support and your patience and EVERYTHING! You're amazing and I'm sending you all virtual hugs. Also, a shoutout to the lovelies below who sent in their questions and made this bonus chapter possible!
> 
> darling_angel ~ Sagoberattare ~ Mother_Mortician ~ melodyrider ~ Larmoi101 ~ sakuchwan ~ Okamikuro22 ~ Kats___moonS ~ FactfulFallacy ~ Firewood64 ~ Someonestrange ~ Romancelover38


	21. Ch 19 - Where This Starts

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> :D
> 
> Hope you're all doing well and staying happy, lovelies <3
> 
> It's Thyme!

Ch 19 - Where This Starts

Should you go after them? You wondered as you stood by the couch and watched your betas leave the living room one by one. Milord headed towards the oak stairs, to return to his room for work, while Mutt and Axe turned left and headed towards the kitchen. Their topic had changed to something Mutt had found on the cameras, something that he wanted Axe’s opinion on. You moved into the hall and watched the three of them disappear into the house.

Were they okay? Even though the meeting ended well and they seemed happy now, you couldn’t help but dwell on what happened. You returned to the couch in the living room and sank into its cushions. A small groan escaped you, one made by the invisible weight on your shoulders, and you leaned forward to rest your elbows on your knees.

You had made a mistake by not talking to Axe and Mutt about Milord. Even if you hadn’t planned when you marked him, you had known how you felt about him. You had broken your own communication rule and it had led to a fight that should have been avoidable. Were you cut out for this alpha business? You couldn’t even decide who to go to right now, if they needed you at all, or if you should just leave them be.

And they wanted you to add Butch or Pap next. Not to mention you had yet to bring up others you cared for: Sans and Red. You sighed and pulled at your face with your fingers. Just one of them would make your total amount marked up to four, and that would also mean that you had half of the house as part of your pack. It was a strange thought still, to be with so many at once. Had you known you would have even three betas, when you first became an alpha, you would have been overwhelmed.

You stared at the grain of the wood floor, lost in thought. Trying to figure this out was difficult enough without the added stress of midterms and your experiment and the law change and-

“everything okay in here?”

You looked up at Sans’ low voice to find him leaning against the wall in the threshold of the living room.

“Yeah, just thinking.” You said, trying to keep your voice light despite feeling that invisible weight on your shoulders increase. A small suspicion filled you as Sans crossed the short space between you and sank into the cushions by your side. “You didn’t hear the shouting earlier, did you?”

“what shouting?” Sans leaned back, a lazy grin on his skull, and dug around the inside of his blue hoodie. He pulled out a thick, white envelope and handed it to you. “I just wanted to give you this. Pap mentioned to me that you wanted to go shopping today, so I figured I should pay you early.”

“And you just happened to know you’d find me here?” You asked, taking the envelope with narrowed eyes.

“I figured I’d run into you eventually,” Sans shrugged. “it just so happened I found you sitting in my second favorite nap spot.” 

You let a small smile tug at your lips just before a thought wiped it away. Quietly, you stared at his pink slippers and asked Sans, “You’re not worried that your brothers will see? That yellow magic that comes out when you sleep?”

Sans turned his skull slightly to stare at you with his white lights. Out of the corner of your eye, you saw his wrist twitch as his bony fingers fiddled with his bracelet. “not really. Pap’s the only one who’s ever seen it, but he was just a baby bones when that happened so I doubt he remembers. it was unusual that you saw it at all. normally, you can’t see it in the light.”

“Will you tell me why?” you asked and leaned back against the plush cushions of the couch. Even though you had your worries about being an alpha, you hadn’t forgotten that Sans wanted to explain this to you. There were so many things you worried about with Sans alone: his depression, his fear of your deaths, his issues with grounding himself in this timeline… if you could help in some way with this magic, or at least understand it, you hoped some of the invisible weight that threatened to drag him down would lift.

“later.” Sans said evasively, “you won’t have time to do what you want if you sit here and listen to me, and I want to take a nap. work sucked yesterday, I want to relax.” He reached out and tapped your chest, “sounds like you need to unwind, too.”

Your fingers came up to touch the spot over your soul. “I know, I just… I want to know you guys are okay first. That helps me; knowing you’re all alright. Do you… want to vent about work?”

“nah. I told you before, it’s better that you don’t know what I do. I’m fine. so are Milord and your betas.” Sans added, his lazy grin widening at your look of shock. “come on, Thyme. I saw the three of them leaving as I was coming down. then I find you sitting here alone, worrying over something even though they seem fine? let me guess, there was a fight between your betas and it got you second guessing yourself?”

“You know,” you said, leaning back to appraise Sans, “that’s still really uncanny, how you do that. How did you figure that out?”

“I can still smell their magic.” Sans brought his arms up to rest along the back of the couch and stared at the ceiling as he thought. “and you mentioned shouting. I already knew you had two betas, you told me before that you marked Axe and Mutt, so someone was obviously upset. I’m guessing jealousy. it’s no secret that Mutt and Axe get worked up over you; he and Axe have had competition already over their marking you. so my guess is that they fought and Milord helped you break it up.”

“That’s… a really good guess,” you nodded, choosing not to correct Sans’ mistakes. Milord didn’t want anyone outside of the pack to know that he had been marked. If Sans had guessed, you couldn’t deny it because he would know you were lying. But he hadn’t guessed, so you weren’t going to give it away.

“and you’re the type of person to worry for those you care about.” Sans’ arm fell from the back of the couch to rest across your shoulders. One of his bony fingers reached up to trace your jawline. “but you don’t need to worry that much. my bros and I are the kind of guys that act up when we’re mad. we don’t really think about trying to talk things out first. do you know how many times I’ve had to break up Milord and Red? or pull Axe off of Edge? even Pap and I have gotten into scuffles, but we’re always fine after.”

His touch tickled your face, so you reached up and took his hand in yours. A relieved smile tugged at your cheeks as he gave your fingers a small squeeze. Mutt, Axe, and Milord did seem okay as they left. Mutt was smiling as he plotted with Axe about teasing you and Milord seemed to lack a bit of his usual cold front. Maybe Sans was right and you were just worrying too much.

“Thanks, Sans. That does make me feel a little better, but I’d like it if you guys didn’t feel like you had to fight like that.” Your other hand squeezed the white envelope until it crinkled between your fingers. You turned your face and caught his white eye lights with your gaze. “I’m still worried about you, though. Even with me here, you’re usually the one to break up all of their fights and, even though they call you lazy, I know you’re the one that holds this house together. I’ve never seen you get really upset, despite what you say, so I know that you’re bottling a lot of things up.”

“I told you, I’ll tell you later.” Sans let go of your hand and gave you a gentle shove until you got to your feet. “but I want you to go do those things you want that will make you happy. then you can come back and find me when you want to hear a boring story.”

“Promise?” You asked, watching Sans’ hand linger on your arm. Why would a story that he just called ‘boring’ give him such a worried look? “You’ll really tell me later today and not just put it off?”

If he tried to avoid the conversation beyond today, there was no telling when you could find time to chase him down. Of course, you would put him before your studies (you would do that for any of the brothers) but you didn’t want to have to do that if you didn’t have to with your tests so close. But you also didn’t know what kind of story he had to tell you. What if he just needed time to prepare himself? He had been so secretive about the yellow magic; so determined to have you brush it off as something small… before he remembered the current timeline, that is.

“just go.” Sans chuckled through his lazy smile and gave you another gentle shove towards the door. “maybe, if you have time, we can go stargazing tonight.”

“I’m going to come find you after dinner,” you warned him. “If you need time to think things over, I understand, but you shouldn’t keep putting this off. Don’t forget how much better you felt after you told me about the timelines.” 

Sans waved his hand carelessly in the air as he flopped back on the couch, his sockets closed for a nap, while you went to go find your phone to call a taxi.

~~~

“I. Love. Saaaales!” You sang to yourself, many hours later, in your room. Though they were expensive, you were glad you had taken a taxi to the mall and back to save yourself time.

Not to mention that you had gone a little overboard in your spending. Shopping while upset was not a good idea. But as you pulled your new clothes from your backpack, and the things you had bought for the house, across the floor, you couldn’t help but feel a bubble of joy push through that invisible weight. 

You pulled a ceramic horse head from your backpack and several packs of incense along with it. There had been a long debate in your mind on whether you should get this or candles, but you eventually decided that the slow burning sticks would be better than an open flame. Smoke wouldn’t bother you so much if it didn’t smell like wood or synthetic insulation.

What really made your decision was the ceramic horse head. It looked regal, like a giant chess piece, but it was more than that. It’s stone ears were removable and you took one in your hand to insert a stick into. You flicked the new lighter you had, to spark a lavender scented stick, and carefully slid the burning ember into the horse head. Floral smoke slowly began to curl out of the horse’s braying mouth. It made you feel so much better, knowing that there was no way a fire could start with the incense contained inside the stone, and you set the horse on your pine dresser. Your eyes lingered on the smoke but, with such a drastic difference in the smell, you could make yourself believe that it was just a dark grey plasma leaking from the horse’s nostrils.

You rose from the hard, wood floor, humming to yourself, to move a large bag of chocolate to the corner of the room to sit beside a giant, plastic case and a pile of rolled up posters. That case was the biggest reason you were thankful for the taxi; you didn’t want to be on the bus with something so expensive. Sure, it was an impulse buy, but when were you going to find another one so cheap? It was pure luck that you had found someone trying to sell it while you were browsing for cds; you could have easily ended up spending triple what you did if you had to buy one new.

With your new clothes piled on the floor, you carefully refilled your backpack with the new electronics and disks to take downstairs. Technically, they were for the house, but you knew Mutt would have fun with them. You sincerely hoped that the rest of the boys would, too.

You glanced out the circular window, at the darkening sky, and knew that Pap would be starting dinner soon. It would be nice to help him and Butch out, you hadn’t done that in awhile. You could worry about giving gifts later.

As you pulled out the drawers to your pine dresser, you wondered if you should change. You had so many new things; so many new styles of dresses to wear now that you felt more comfortable showing some of your scars. You had new leggings in different colors and patterns and, you felt yourself turn pink as you held them up, you had bought your first bit of underwear since the fire.

There were only two pairs: a plain, black cotton pair, and a lacy white pair. You didn’t know if you would be able to wear them. Ever since you had gotten out of the hospital, you had avoided these kinds of things. They had only gotten caught on your scars and made you uncomfortable. (You avoided jeans for the same reason.) What was the point, you had reasoned, if you wore stockings and knew you would never take them off for anybody?

But as you selected a pair of black and white striped leggings, you knew that you probably should try to start wearing underwear again. Maybe it would feel better, and catch on your scars less, if you weren’t wearing stockings on top of them. 

You stood up and stripped, the floral smoke from the horse head curling around your body as you slipped on the black cotton pair and moved around to test them. It wasn’t so bad, just a little uncomfortable, but that also could be from you going commando for seven years. If you could get used to wearing them again, you could always buy more.

“Let’s see…” you hummed, digging through your new dresses after you had pulled the striped leggings over your scars. It was hard to make a choice; they were all pretty and new. One was out of the question, you had bought that to wear for your date with Pap. It was still too cold to wear any of the new sun dresses, especially if you were going stargazing with Sans later. You didn’t want anything long if you were going to work on setup with Mutt, so…

You held up a dark red, short sleeved shirt dress. It reminded you of the dress shirts your dad used to wear for formal occasions, since it had a pressed collar and looked almost business-like, but it would cover up the scars on your back and would go well with your striped leggings. You pulled it over your head and looked down to admire yourself, since the circular window had too much light coming through it to act like a mirror, and smiled.

The air in your room took on a slight haze as the incense burned and you took time to put your clothes away. That horse had to be a great buy; now you didn’t have to worry about problems with scent. If all you could smell was lavender, surely the brothers couldn’t smell anything else, either? Now all you had to make sure to do was burn it regularly. If you only burned it when you needed to cover certain things up, they would figure out when you were trying to hide something.

Once you were satisfied that your room was clean enough, you dug through the bag of chocolate for a certain box, grabbed your backpack, and headed for the narrow stairs. Thinking of the haze gathering in your room, you left your door open so that it could dissipate. Even with the different scent, you didn’t want to risk your room filling too much with smoke and triggering a panic attack when you returned. 

As you passed Edge’s room, you quietly slipped the small box beneath the crack under his door. It was chocolate covered ginger gummies, surely he’d like that?

Though you seriously doubted he’d admit if he ate them, never mind if he liked them.

“Hey, Pap?” You traversed the length of the hall to knock on the door with the caution tape; your head tilted to listen for any noise inside. “You there?”

There was a loud bang, like something heavy falling, and you heard Pap bark, “DON’T COME IN!”

“Is everything okay?” You asked while listening to the scuffles on the other side of the door.

“IT’S FINE, I’M JUST WORKING ON SOMETHING.” Pap’s voice was closer now, like he had crossed the room to speak to you. “MY MAGIC’S EVERYWHERE, I DON’T WANT YOU IN HERE. DID YOU NEED SOMETHING, HONEY?”

“I’m just wondering about when you wanted to start dinner.” You adjusted the strap of your backpack. It was starting to become painful under the weight of the electronics. “There’s something I want to do, but I’d still like to cook with you since I won’t have the chance during the week with my studies. Want to come find me in the living room when you’re ready to start?”

“SOUNDS GREAT!” You could hear the smile in Pap’s voice. “SEE YOU SOON, HONEY!”

On your way down to the basement, you took a second to drop your heavy backpack off in the living room beneath the flat-screen TV. You noticed, with a small pang of worry, that Sans was no longer napping on the couch. 

As you made your way into the kitchen you decided that, even if you had to sit on him until he talked, you would get Sans to open up to you one way or another.

Mutt’s door was open. Despite that, you knocked gently before descending the creaky stairs into the dark. His computer screen didn’t provide any light; he wasn’t working. One of your hands came up to find the concrete wall so you could guide yourself through the black.

You felt your way across the cold floor with your feet for his bed. Maybe you should get a flashlight for situations like this. Even though you had the suspicion that skeletons could see in the dark, you sure as hell couldn’t.

Despite your caution, you nearly tripped on his bed when you found it with your toes. You felt across the covers, searching for his bony frame, and found what felt like an arm. The moment you grasped it in your fingers, you felt a pair of hands grab you and pull you into the sheets.

“Hello there.” Mutt’s raspy voice purred in your ear as he wrapped the bedding around you, trapping you. “About time you came to see me.”

“How’re you doing?” You asked, still wondering how he was handling the aftermath of the meeting earlier that day and feeling guilty that you hadn’t come to check on him sooner. Though, if his wandering hands and affectionate touches were anything to go by, it seemed like he was handling his jealousy well. At least he wasn’t holding onto any anger.

“Why do you smell funny?” He asked from your neck, his breath hot on your skin. 

“I bought some incense for my room. I’m not really a candle person. Open flame, you know?” You added, at an inquiring look from his red lights, “Do you not like the smell?”

“It’s just different.” Mutt pulled your cocooned body into his and buried his face in your hair. “So is it my turn to have you now?”

“What do you mean?”

“You went after the others, didn’t you?” Mutt shrugged, “I figured you would, after what happened.”

“I didn’t. I went shopping instead,” you said and felt him pull away in surprise. You felt heat rise in your cheeks; it sounded so selfish when you said it like that. “It’s not that I didn’t think about going after you guys, I did, but I couldn’t really decide if any of you needed me or if I was just worrying too much. I was hoping that at this point, if you needed to talk, you knew that you could come to me.”

“So you didn’t talk to Axe or Milord yet?”

“Nope. You’re the first I’ve seen after the meeting.” You tried, with more than a little effort, and succeeded in rolling over so you could look Mutt in the eye lights. “If you’re feeling up to it, I was hoping you could come upstairs and help me with some electronics I bought. I know you’re good with those kinds of things.”

“...the first, huh?” Mutt whispered, his fingers gently tracing patterns across your back.

If he was focusing on that, on being the first you went to, maybe he was holding on to a bit more jealousy than he was letting on. “Is there anything you wanted to talk about, Mutt? I understand if you’re still a little upset about Milord...”

Mutt gave you a small kiss before he unwrapped you from the sheets. “We’re all figuring this out, aren’t we? It’s not like I ever told you I’d be upset about him, so you couldn’t do anything about it. But…” He picked you up from the sheets, took you into his lap, and gently touched his sharp teeth to your neck. “...thanks for coming to me first. Not just to check on me, but to ask for my help, too. It means a lot to feel like I matter that much.”

“Of course you matter,” you turned and planted a kiss on the side of his skull. Mutt may have gotten angry in the moment, but the way he was handling it now… When you had first met him, he had thrown a near tantrum over a nickname. The way he was handling himself now compared to then showed you how much he had matured. Gently, you extracted yourself from his arms and pulled him to his feet. “Now come upstairs and see what I got for you and your brothers.”

“I have to share it?” Mutt pouted as he let you lead him up the stairs and through the kitchen. He stumbled a bit over his feet as he tried to pull back, to let his red lights drift over your new outfit, before you tugged at his hand and brought him through the entryway.

“I would like that. I got this instead of something else with the hopes you would.” You lead him into the living room, to your backpack beneath the tv, and started to pull out bundles of cords. Inside the bag, resting against a long, black speaker, was your gift to the house. You pulled it out and presented it to Mutt with a proud grin on your face.

“It’s a Playbox.” You explained to his confused look. “It’s for video games, but they can play DVDs and CDs, too. And I got this,” you held up the speaker, “to pair with it. It’s a soundbar. It’ll be way better than what your TV has and the guy at the store told me it’ll project things that you normally can’t hear on regular speakers, so it’s good for music especially.”

Mutt gently set the Playbox on the ground to examine the soundbar you handed off to him. You went back into the backpack, to pull out a stack of plastic cases. “Not only did I get two new games, I got a bunch of movies, too! I don’t know what kind of stuff you guys like, so I got a bit of everything.”

“Robin,” Mutt looked up from the soundbar to take a DVD in his hand. “This… all looks expensive. I thought you were on a budget?”

“I am.” You shrugged, turning slightly pink, and picked up one of the gaming controllers you had gotten to idly press at the buttons. “I can still afford this, though. It was all used or on sale. Maybe I did spend a bit more than I should’ve, but I thought this might make you guys happy.”

You felt the color on your face deepen under Mutt’s appraising stare. Your eyes fell and you twirled the controller’s cord in between your fingers.

“I just wanted to help bring you guys together,” you admitted sheepishly, your face heating up and turning red. “I know you like video games, but maybe one of your other brothers does, too. That’s why I got three controllers. And I know you guys can’t go down the mountain yet, so I wanted to show you guys a bit of my world through movies.”

You looked over the mess of electronics and the tangled cords. Quietly, you stared at the empty couches and sighed, “This room is always empty and you guys are almost always apart. I’d like it if you didn’t get together just at mealtimes anymore. You’re family, right?”

“What about that car you wanted?” Mutt asked, his skull tilted slightly as his red lights narrowed at you.

“Ah, that’s just my own convenience.” You waved the question away in the air and avoided his gaze. “There are more important things besides a car. I can still get where I need to go just fine, so it’s not a big deal. If I need to pick stuff up for the grounds, I’ll just use a taxi. I can wait to get a car after I graduate and my student bus pass expires. No sense in wasting it, right?”

Mutt’s fingers reached out and tilted your chin up. His eye lights shined with affection, and you felt your flush deepen as he leaned closer. His raspy voice was almost a growl as he said, “You know, if you don’t stop being so damn considerate, I’m going to have a hard time sharing you with anyone else.”

He smirked at your stillness, your unsure waiting, and his golden fang flashed as he closed the distance to kiss you. You sighed into him, into the taste of clove, and leaned in as his hand brushed over your face and through your hair.

Too soon, he pulled away and reached for the cords. You tilted your head, confused, as he focused on the soundbar and TV.

“You wanted me to help, right?” Mutt said, smirking, and his lights settled on your outfit before returning to the cords. “I can’t really do that if I get too worked up. Doesn’t help that you’re wearing something I really like.”

“What, my dress?” You smiled, feeling your cheeks turn pink again. 

Mutt pointed at your leggings. A dusting of burnt orange filled his cheekbones as he turned his gaze to stare resolutely at the back of the soundbar. “I, uh, have a thing for stripes. And you don’t want me to push too far yet, so… Let’s just do this for now.” 

Affection warmed your chest. He was still considerate of your boundaries, even though he didn’t know that you bought, and wore, thigh high leggings now for the specific purpose of being able to cross those boundaries when you wanted to. 

You handed him over a cord he asked for and waited patiently for Mutt to give you more instructions as he focused on setting up the Playbox. 

It was hard to not think about all the ways he had teased you in the past as you sat there watching him hook up the cords to the TV. All the times those hands had drifted over you, touched you, as precisely and delicately as they now handled the fragile electronics and untangled the knots in the cords. His bony brow furrowed with concentration as he went back and forth between the soundbar and the Playbox, checking and rechecking connections. His burnt orange tongue absentmindedly licked at his golden tooth as he thought and you shivered as you remembered the feel of those teeth on your neck, the taste of that tongue on yours.

Mutt glanced up at you, his eye lights shining curiously, as you felt heat spark in your belly from those memories.

“Something on your mind?” His raspy voice purred, his red lights hazing ever so slightly as they looked at you. You felt your face burn and you shook your head while your gaze dropped to the floor. You shouldn’t be having those thoughts now, not when you knew that you couldn’t do anything about them since others would be looking for you soon.

How embarrassing would it be if someone walked in on you? That one time that Axe interrupted you being marked by Mutt was enough.

But, you looked up as Mutt shrugged and returned to the setup, there would be a time later when you would have privacy. A time where you could pay back all the teasing and you could run your hands over him, searching for that spot that drove him nuts. Oh, and when you found it, you would-

“Are you sure?” Mutt asked and set down the soundbar. His lights had turned into more of a haze and his sharp teeth were quirked up in a mischievous grin. “I can hear you, you know. Do you have some kind of cord kink or something?”

“No.” You said dumbly, your face burning again, and picked up a movie case to examine. Even though you knew the plot, you forced yourself to focus on the words on the back of the case; to distract yourself so that you could calm down.

As Mutt got on his knees to stick the plugs in the outlets, you couldn’t help but notice his orange t-shirt sag and caught a glimpse of your mark. It looked… less. Like someone had taken sandpaper and tried to scuff it out. Didn’t he once tell you that it would heal and have to be redone every so often?

An evil smile broke over your face. Tonight, or maybe tomorrow, you’d have to redo that mark. And you hadn’t forgotten how he reacted the first time you did it. And Axe had been marked not long after Mutt. His would need to be redone as well.

“Alright, it should be good.” Mutt sat back on the floor and admired his work. “We just need something to test it with. Want to hand me a disk?”

You nodded and handed him a game along with a controller. “We should test these, too. I got them used so I don’t know how well they work.”

Mutt turned on the electronics with a flick of his magic and the two of you backed away from the blank screen. With Mutt’s help, you pushed a couch forward so that you both had something to sit on while you played.

“Super Smash Bros Melee?” Mutt stopped wiggling his fingers, to use his magic to adjust the input, and read the title on screen out loud. You nodded, excited to show him the one game that you knew. Mutt got up from the couch, adjusted some of the cords, and then the startup music finally played through the soundbar.

“I played this in high school.” You told him happily, remembering the parties you had with your old friends. “It’s a lot of fun, especially with the more people you have. Most of the games I found were single player anyways, but this has tons of different characters to play as so I doubt we’ll get bored.”

Knowing the game somewhat, you ticked through the title screen to select multiplayer and immediately went to one of your old favorites; Princess Zelda. Mutt slowly went through the menu, to look over each character, before he settled on the green hero: Link.

The stage was set to random and you began to play.

Both you and Mutt were pretty evenly matched. You didn’t remember all of the controls and he had to learn them all, but it was clear as you went through the first match and started another who the superior gamer was. Mutt was easily beating you, now that he understood what buttons did what. You decided then to stop trying to play nice.

“How come your character gets another form?!” Mutt leaned forward and rested his elbows on his knees as he tried to counter your new character, the ninja: Sheik. You flicked at the controls to toss a barrel at his Link and throw him offscreen.

“Got you!” You squealed with glee, happy that you were finally gaining on Mutt’s wins.

The battle on screen was becoming fierce. The NPCs had long ago been disposed of, but you and Mutt were on mostly even ground. Mutt had one life more than you. If you could just even the score…

“WHAT ARE YOU TWO DOING?” Pap walked in as you were trying a difficult combo move. The sound of his voice startled you, you were concentrating so completely on the game, so that you jumped and fumbled the buttons. Mutt’s character smashed yours with his sword and Sheik went flying spectacularly off the screen.

“Ha!” Mutt shouted in victory and threw his fist up in the air. “Take that, Robin!”

“Playing Smash.” You smiled at Pap and offered him the controller. Butch, who was standing quietly behind him, glanced curiously at the screen and tilted his skull to the upbeat battle music. “Do either of you want to play? It’s really fun. We have a third controller.”

“I’ll try…” Butch offered shly, his gaze drilling a hole into the TV screen. Judging by the golden flush on his skull, and the way his eye lights flicked back towards you for a second, he had noticed your outfit.

“WE HAVE DINNER TO MAKE.” Pap reminded him and started to drag Butch out of the living room.

“That’s okay! I’ll help you and Butch can take my place.” You jumped up from the couch and shoved the controller into Butch’s hand. If this was a chance to start bringing them all together, you weren’t going to let it pass by. Maybe it was just Butch and Mutt hanging out now, but hopefully this would build up as the others hung out.

“I can help… too.” Butch looked nervously between the controller and Pap, obviously torn. You wondered then: had Butch ever hung out with Mutt on his own? Aside from that one time they had shared a bed with you after you had told them about That Day, that is. Butch was shy as it was; it had taken forever for him to become comfortable around Pap with you around to help. He was barely comfortable around you. Maybe if you stayed it would be better, but then Pap would be cooking alone and you didn’t want that, either.

“Come on, Butch.” Mutt said, noticing your troubled look, and pulled Butch into a playful headlock. “Can’t play multiplayer without multiple players and you can’t be worse than Robin.”

“Hey!” You may have glared at Mutt for the small jab, but you still gave him an appreciative smile. He knew what you were trying to do and he had just made it obvious he was willing to help.

“THAT’S FINE, I GUESS I CAN MANAGE WITH JUST HONEY.” Pap took your hand and pulled you out into the entryway. You stumbled along after him, trying to catch one last glimpse of Mutt and Butch before they disappeared behind the wall.

“What’re we making?” You asked after Pap finally let you go when you reached the kitchen. The way Pap kept his back turned towards you, and the way he pulled out pots with a bit more force than necessary, gave you the feeling something was off. “Everything okay, Pap?”

“I’M FINE.” Pap said stiffly and handed you a knife with a cutting board.

“You seem upset.” You pointed out as the contents of the fridge rattled from him opening the door.

Pap pulled out an armful of ingredients and slammed the door shut. As he dropped them on the counter, he sighed and said, “I’M SORRY, HONEY, I JUST… WASN’T EXPECTING TO FIND YOU ON A DATE. I KNOW HE’S YOUR BETA AND ALL BUT…”

Your eyes widened with understanding as you watched his shoulders sag ever so slightly. He was jealous. “Pap, Mutt and I were just hanging out. That wasn’t a date.”

“YOU’RE DRESSED FOR ONE.” Pap turned his skull slightly to look at you out of the corner of his sockets.

“This is just new,” you giggled. He must think you look really nice, to think you were dressed up enough for a date. “I got a bunch of new dresses today to change things up. If you want to see what I got for an actual date, you’ll have to wait until we have ours. I got it with you in mind and I’m excited to see what you think of it.”

Pap’s white lights flickered in his sockets. “FOR… ME?”

“Yup.” You nodded and approached the counter, to set down the cutting board and examine the ingredients. “So, what’re we making?”

“WELL, SEEING AS WE’RE OUT OF GARLIC,” Pap said, his loud voice bright and cheerful once again, “I THOUGHT I’D TRY ONE OF THOSE WEIRD RECIPES; PAD THAI.”

“Asian food isn’t weird, it’s really good. I bet you’ll like it once you try it.” You took a stalk of green onion that Pap handed to you and began chopping it up. Pap leaned around you and pulled the cookbook from the shelf over the sink to consult it. Feeling slightly guilty, you added, “Sorry for taking all the garlic, Pap. I forgot to pick some up at the store the last time I went to replace it.”

“THAT’S OKAY, I KNOW YOU WANT TO USE IT FOR AN EXPERIMENT.” Pap looked down the list of ingredients and asked you, “WHAT’S TURMERIC?”

“Oh, it’s some kind of spicy root.” You turned from the cutting board to look over the book. You didn’t have all of the ingredients. “We can probably substitute chili powder instead. And we don’t have rice wine or noodles, either.”

“SINCE WE HAVE TO COOK IT DOWN, MAYBE WE CAN USE WHITE WINE?” Pap set the book aside and fished around the fridge for possible substitutes. “WE ALREADY HAVE REGULAR NOODLES, HONEY, THEY’LL BE FINE. I DON’T KNOW WHY THEY NEED TO BE MADE OUT OF RICE.”

“You’re the chef.” You grinned. Not-so-Asian food it is, then. “I know this might make it difficult, but can we make a mild plate for Sans? He doesn’t like spicy food.”

“I KNOW.” Pap grinned mischievously at you. “I WANTED TO MAKE HIM EAT IT ANYWAY.”

“Why?”

“MANY REASONS.” Pap set down a pot full of water to tick these reasons off on his fingers through his mitten. “ONE, HE FILLED MY SOAP BOTTLE WITH PEANUT BUTTER A FEW DAYS AGO. TWO, HE OVERSLEPT YESTERDAY AND HAD TO RESCHEDULE WHEN HE WOULD TAKE ME TO THE UNDERGROUND TO PICK UP OUR RATIONS, WHICH IS WHY WE’RE STILL OUT OF GARLIC. THREE, HE’S BEEN SLEEPING MORE THAN USUAL AND WON’T GIVE ME A STRAIGHT ANSWER AS TO WHY. I KNOW HIS JOB TAKES A LOT OUT OF HIM, BUT HE WON’T TELL ME ABOUT IT...”

“I’m sure he’s just stressed,” you tried to think, as you took out a selection of fruit to cut up for a side, how you could reassure Pap without lying or mentioning your knowledge of the timelines. “Milord is always overworking himself, so maybe he’s doing something like that?”

“SANS IS TOO LAZY TO OVERWORK HIMSELF.” Pap took the nearly empty peanut butter jar from the cupboard and added it to the sauce he was working on. “I’M MORE UPSET ABOUT HAVING TO RESCHEDULE MY TRIP TO THE UNDERGROUND. I HAD PLANS TO SEE UNDYNE THAT I’LL HAVE TO MAKE UP FOR AND I DON’T LIKE RUNNING LOW ON FOOD.”

Your hand stopped midway from bringing a strawberry to your mouth. Guilt bubbled up in your stomach as you remembered that you ate their food, too, even though it did nothing for you. The brothers needed that magic. You thought about your plants upstairs and wished you could get them to grow faster.

“HONEY, DON’T BE UPSET.” Pap took the strawberry you had put back and gently stuffed it into your mouth. “WE’RE NOT HURTING FOR ANYTHING, WE’RE JUST RUNNING LOW, SO THERE’S NO NEED FOR YOUR SOUL TO MAKE GUILTY SOUNDS.”

“Do you know anything about growing plants, Pap?” You asked, watching Pap add a bunch of noodles to a boiling pot. “You’re really handy with a lot of things. Did you ever grow an herb garden or anything like that?”

“NOPE.” Pap shook his skull and passed you the next set of vegetables that needed to be cut up. “DISTRICT ONE IS A PLACE OF PERPETUAL WINTER.”

“I thought that was District Four?”

“THEY HAVE THAT, TOO.” Pap shrugged and looked over dinner as it cooked, to check for anything else to do. Everything seemed to be going well, because he leaned against the counter and faced you for conversation. “THEY’RE RIGHT NEXT TO EACH OTHER, YOU KNOW. IT MAKES SENSE THAT THEY SHARE THE STRANGE WEATHER IN THE UNDERGROUND.”

“But, if they’re always in a state of winter, how do you get anything to grow?”

“SOME OF THE HARDIEST PLANTS DO, BUT THERE AREN’T MANY OF THOSE.” Pap watched you carefully slice up carrots with his white lights. “MOST OF THE THINGS THAT GROW ARE IN DISTRICT TWO, BUT THEN MOST OF THAT GETS DISTRIBUTED AMONG THE OTHER DISTRICTS. ESPECIALLY FOR DISTRICT THREE; NOTHING GROWS THERE AT ALL.”

“Why not?”

“IT’S COVERED IN LAVA. THAT’S WHY WE NICKNAMED DISTRICT THREE ‘HOTLAND’.”

You dropped your knife in surprise and whirled to face Pap. “ _ Lava?!  _ How the hell does anyone live there?! _ ” _

“THERE ARE LOTS OF MONSTERS THAT CAN TOLERATE HEAT, NOT JUST SKELETONS.” Pap turned to check on the progress of the noodles and, deeming it satisfactory, started his search for the colander. “YOU WOULDN’T LIKE IT THERE, HONEY. MOST OF THE RESIDENTS ARE FIRE ELEMENTALS OF SOME KIND.”

You leaned against the counter. Just imagining such a place, a place made of fire, made your knees weak and your pulse beat faster in panic. “Is… is Undyne a fire elemental?”

Pap actually threw back his skull and laughed. “FAR FROM IT! SHE’S A FISH MONSTER, HONEY. NATURALLY, SHE LIVES IN DISTRICT TWO. THAT’S WHY I VISIT HER EVERY TIME I GO TO PICK UP OUR RATIONS. SHE’S ON THE WAY IN AND OUT.” Pap nudged you with his elbow and pointed towards the cupboard that held the plates. As you took dishes out for everybody, Pap paused and watched you thoughtfully. “YOU KNOW, I THINK UNDYNE HAS AN HERB GARDEN. I CAN ASK HER FOR GROWING TIPS NEXT TIME I VISIT, IF YOU LIKE.”

“That would be fantastic!” You turned to Pap, a broad smile on your face, and threw your arms around him for a hug. “I don’t know the first thing about growing monster plants, I’d appreciate anything she could tell me! Thank you, Pap!”

Pap responded by nearly squeezing the life out of you in his enthusiasm. You gasped for air and tapped on his breastplate, trying to signal that you needed to breathe, and Pap let you go with an orange flush across his skull.

“UM, DINNER’S READY.” Pap straightened up and turned to hide his color. “YOU SHOULD GET BUTCH AND MUTT TO GO FIND THE OTHERS; THEY LISTEN TO YOU.”

“Did you make something mild for Sans?” You asked and playfully put your hands on your hips.

“YES.” Pap grinned at you and pointed towards a pan on the back of the stove. “I WAS TEMPTED NOT TO, BUT TRUST ME, I KNOW WHAT’LL HAPPEN IF I PRANK HIM.”

With a nod of approval, you headed out towards the living room.

Even without poking your head around the corner, you could tell that Mutt had met his match. His raspy voice was spewing a constant stream of trash talk and, as you peeked into the living room, a smile broke out on your face to see that Butch was two lives ahead of him.

“You’re stupid yellow mouse is overpowered!” Mutt growled as his swordsman flew off screen thanks to a bolt of lighting from Butch’s character. “You’re cheating!”

Butch didn’t say anything, but his lopsided grin widened as his Pikachu chased after Link, avoided a swipe from their sword, and summoned another bolt of lighting to knock Link across the map.

“Dinner’s ready.” You said, leaning against the wall, as Sans had when he found you earlier, and you watched them play. “Do you want to find your brothers or…?”

“Axe is… outside.” Butch offered, his focus on the flat-screen as he tried to take the last life that Link had so he could win the match.

“I’ll get Axe.” Mutt grumbled and dropped his controller on the floor. Butch had come after him with a spectacular combo move that sent Link flying off the screen and Mutt was obviously a little upset that he had been beaten. “I want to go out for a smoke anyway.”

“I’ll… get the others.” Butch got up from the couch, leaving Mutt to sulk for a moment more, and grinned at you. “you were right… Lily. that was… really fun.”

“You only beat me because you found the one broken character!” Mutt got up from the couch and chased Butch out into entrance hall. “I wiped the floor with you when you used Zelda or DK, there’s no other reason you could’ve beat me.”

“It sounds like you only lost one match, Mutt. I thought your favorite flavor was spice, not salt.” You grinned up at Mutt as he passed. He rolled his eye lights at you and gave you a playful shove into the wall.

“He won’t be so confident when I beat him next time.” Mutt grumbled and took a black cigarette out of his pack to stick between his sharp teeth. You stopped him at the front door with a gentle touch on his arm.

“He could use more confidence,” you said quietly. Mutt stared at you for a moment, his red lights flickering, before his grin slowly came back.

He opened up the front door and a gust of icy wind ruffled the bell of your dress. With his cigarette lighter in hand, he said, “That doesn’t mean I’m just going to lay back and let him win. Where’s the fun in that?”

~~~ 

You sat quietly at the table between Red and Pap, eating your pad thai as you listened to the conversation around you.

On Pap’s other side sat Butch. You could just barely hear his quiet voice as he excitedly recounted his match with Mutt to Axe and Pap, despite the two of them having a very confused look on their skulls. On Butch’s other side, Mutt leaned in to fill in details about the game to Axe, who was across the table and looked even more confused than Pap did.

Next to Axe was Milord. He, like you, had been quiet so far. Every now and then you could see him glance up, when he thought his brothers were distracted, to look at you. His purple lights quickly went back to his plate and he shoved an overly full fork into his mouth to hide the slight lavender color that crossed his nasal ridge. Sans, on Milord’s other side, had noticed this behavior and was constantly snickering much to Milord’s increasing irritation.

On Sans’ other side was Edge. Edge, just like you and Milord, had been quiet so far and, just like Milord, he kept sneaking glances at you when he thought you weren’t looking.

“yeh got somethin’ teh say, boss?” Red asked his question with a smirk on his skull. He had also caught on to his brother’s glances.

“I TOLD YOU TO STOP CALLING ME THAT, YOU NUISANCE.” Edge irritably stabbed at his food and, noticing that you noticed his looks, was now trying to completely ignore you.

“Do you not like spicy food?” You asked, watching him push his food around the plate but not really eating anything. “I think Pap made enough of the mild sauce that I could make you a new plate, if you want?”

“NO.” Edge’s curt reply snapped like a whip and you looked at Red, wondering what you did. You knew Edge didn’t exactly like you, but usually he was more vocal about his opinion.

At Red’s equally confused look, you remembered the box you had slipped under Edge’s door. Red and Edge, though not the same, were very similar in some of their ways. And Edge must have grown up with Red if they had lived together in District Three. 

“I gave him a present earlier,” you whispered to Red. 

Red cackled under his breath and grinned over at Edge. “she ain’t tryin’ teh bribe yeh, boss.”

“STOP CALLING ME THAT!” Edge snapped and tossed his fork at Red. The tongs, filled with noodles as they were, bounced harmlessly off of Red’s skull but left him covered in sauce and snarling with anger. 

Sensing Red’s temper beginning to surface, you moved your hand so it rested gently on his leg. His gaze snapped over to yours and you could feel him relax ever so slightly beneath your touch. Edge, seeing this silent exchange between you and Red, only narrowed his red lights further in suspicion.

“he ain’t gonna give yeh what yeh want.” Red growled to you, his crimson lights narrowing to match Edge. The tense glare was broken for only a moment while Red wiped the sauce from his skull with his sleeve.

“I’ll settle for a ‘lack of open hostility’ to start with.” You made air quotes with your fingers around that phrase and winked at the bewildered look Edge gave you at your words. “Speaking of, Edge, did you know I picked up a DVD player today? I mean, technically it’s a Playbox, but you can watch that other present I got you on it, if you like.”

His sharp teeth twisted into a scowl and the beginnings of a black flush started to cross his nasal ridge. Edge pushed his chair back, his plate left half eaten, and he stormed from the kitchen.

“STUPID, ANNOYING PET!”

“Did I do something wrong?” You asked Red, your brow crinkled with worry, as you listened to Edge stomp up the stairs. Beside you, Red’s shoulders shook with suppressed laughter.

“ho-lee shit.” Red smirked and leaned over you to listen to a door slam in the distance. “yeh know what, Dollface? I think he might actually like yeh.”

“Are you sure?” you asked, unable to hide the disbelief in your voice. “I’m pretty sure he still hates me, Red. I know he’s a bit quiet today, which is unusual for him, but I don’t think a single box of candy is going to change his mind about me.”

“nah, it ain’t.” Red shrugged and shoved both his and Edge’s plates over to Axe. “but I know fer sure that he can’ figure yeh out, ‘n that’s makin’ him second guess himself. that’s what happened with me ‘n you.”

Red’s crimson eye lights shined with affection as he got up from the table, ruffled your hair, pulled his headphones back over his skull, and wandered off through the archway.

You looked back to the other brothers, wondering if any of them had overheard the brief conversation and if they could tell you what they thought about Edge’s strange behavior. Pap, Mutt, Axe, and Butch were in a hot debate over the new video game and, by the sound of it, they were planning on setting up a tournament after dinner. Hearing that made your heart practically glow with joy. You had wanted the Playbox to bring the brothers together, but you didn’t think it would happen so quickly.

Next to them, Milord (probably in an effort to stop staring at you) had produced a sheaf of paper from somewhere and was almost forcing Sans to pay attention to it.

“-shouldn’t be that hard as long as you follow the list.” You heard Milord state coldly to Sans as you tuned in to their conversation.

“you’re kidding me.” Sans groaned and sank into his seat and his white eye lights looked over the first paper. “this is everything you do to clean the house?”

“That’s just the kitchen, but you will refrain from applying your abysmal skills to the dishes we eat from. I would far prefer Zeta or Papyrus to take care of those.” Milord said coolly. He pulled away the top sheet to show Sans the one below that. “Here is the living room, below that is the entrance hall, and the next is-”

“can’t we just… not?” Sans sighed, his white lights fading slightly as he looked over the long lists in his hands.

“What is the point of making a wager if we do not adhere to the results?”

“there’s always dessert, right?” Sans looked up at you hopefully, noticing that you were listening in.

“Sorry,” you said softly and shook your head. His shoulders sagged in disappointment. “I honestly forgot to make that today with my trip to the mall and everything else... But I’ll make it, I promise.”

“No doubt she’ll make it at the end of the week, to make sure we have upheld our end of the deal.” Milord’s purple lights shined at you and a grin tugged at the corners of his sharp teeth. You smiled shyly back, not wanting to admit that you didn’t have that hidden intent at all. “You’ll get your reward eventually, vanilla.”

“you’ll be begging me to go back on this in just a few days. you’re not allowed to clean anything, remember.” Sans poked at his food moodily, grumbling. “maybe I’ll just do them all at the end of the week instead of every day.”

“Stop being such a sloth.” Milord snapped, his purple lights narrowed with anger. “These are daily tasks. I wake up every morning and complete this list in the span of a few hours before the sun rises. There’s no reason you should be unable to do this over the course of a day.”

“I wonder what’s worth more,” Sans asked his fork as he gazed at it with a dreamy look, “not getting dessert, or driving you nuts by making you live with garbage on the floor for a week?”

“Sans,” you said quietly, drawing his attention back to you as Milord clenched his fists in indignity. “You made this bet, too, and I know you would’ve pushed Milord to keep his word if he had lost to you. If you’re going to go back on your word, I’m going to clean your room.”

Sans’ fork fell to his plate with a clatter and he stared at you with wide, white lights. You stared right back, careful to keep a neutral expression on your face.

“you wouldn’t dare.” He said, his low voice thrumming with some unreadable emotion. Milord looked between you, his own lights wide with surprise at Sans’ change in demeanor.

“If I have to help Milord clean this whole house after you neglect it, I will. That includes your room.” While you didn’t really mind if they both decided to cancel their bet, by the sounds of it, Milord was still all for it. They may not have used the exact phrase, but you were the kind of person that words meant a lot to you. Breaking a deal was as good as breaking a promise, and you weren’t going to allow that.

You pushed your empty plate over to Axe. You knew that if Sans didn’t keep up his end of the deal, you would not let Milord do all that work alone. Pap had told you once about this, that you could get Sans to do anything you wanted if you threatened him with cleaning his room. Pranks weren’t such a bad thing to deal with when you thought about Sans breaking a promise.

Sans glanced at his other brothers, fearful that they had heard your threat. The others were involved in their own conversations. Mutt and Pap were debating the roster match-ups, and the number of rounds to make up a match, while Butch and Axe quietly negotiated what they thought the prize for first place should be. Red and Edge had already left so...

That just left Milord. Sans glared at him, his low voice a growl, “don’t touch my room.”

“Not in my worst nightmares.” Milord shuddered at the thought. “If Zeta wishes to do that as part of her assistance with your failure, then that’s her choice. I’d have to burn my entire wardrobe if I ever set foot in that hovel.”

“Come on, Sans, it’ll be good for you to get out of that room more,” you said, thinking about his depression and how he slept so much. About that yellow plasma leaking across the floor… You shook the thought from your head and added, as a way to placate him some, “If you need some help cleaning, just ask me and I’ll do what I can with you. I won’t let you drown in chores. It’s only for a week, after all, and then you won’t have to clean anything ever again if you don’t want to.”

“Just remain mindful that Zeta has her own responsibilities.” Milord added, a lavender flush on his skull while his purple lights shined at you. Sans irritably snatched the lists back and looked them over while grumbling under this breath. “She’s willing to assist you, but if I find out you’re taking advantage of her kindness…”

“you’ll what?” Sans snapped, his white lights narrowed at Milord. “go ahead, Milord. you’ll what?”

“He’ll probably want me to get you a new mattress, too,” you said lightly to Sans, watching Milord scowl with irritation, while you gathered the plates from around the table. Even if monsters didn’t have soul noise for you to hear their emotions, you could tell just by the lack of his usual lazy smile that Sans was starting to get angry. “It’ll be okay, Sans. I’ll wash all the dishes for you, then we can go over the list together and decide on what you want my help with over the week.”

You stood up, to walk around the table to gather plates, while Sans spread the lists out before him and glared at the paper. You leaned around Axe, to pick up the stack of plates he had licked clean. As the other brothers saw that dinner was over and began to rise from the table, during the resulting noise you felt a soft touch slip up your thighs and brush against the bottom of your underwear. The plates you were holding fell back to the tabletop with a clatter and you whirled around, your face burning red, and looked to see who could have been so bold.

None of the other brothers were close to you, except for Milord. You glared down at him in his chair, at the smirk on his skull as he slowly stood up.

“Stop tempting me,” he whispered quietly in your ear, using the movement to pick up the plates and put them in your hands as an excuse to brush so close to you. “Your new attire is more than enough, Zeta, I don’t need to see you demonstrating your dominance over my brothers as well.”

“You alright, Robin?” Mutt asked from across the table, his eye lights narrowed at Milord and your flush. None of the other brothers seemed to have noticed what happened thanks to the noise and chaos of everyone leaving the kitchen.

“You would be embarrassed, too, if you had fumbled an entire stack of plates.” Milord said coolly to his watching brother and placed the dishes in your hands. As he left the kitchen, you heard him say from the archway, “Be more careful, Zeta. Papyrus can fix most anything, but ceramics are not one of those things.”

Axe tugged on the bell of your dress and you jumped, almost dropping the stack of plates again. Mutt smirked at your embarrassment and took the dishes from you, before you could break them, and took them to the sink.

“...we have… an idea.” Axe nudged Butch, who flushed gold. “...we’re doing a game tournament. ...just Butch, Pap… Mutt and me.”

“we wanted to know…. for the winner…” Butch trailed off and looked away from you, his golden flush deepening.

“...if the winner can… spend the night… with you.” Axe’s red light looked up at you and it shined with excitement. “...like a… sleepover.”

“You mean tonight?” You looked to Mutt and Pap, who were also a part of this tournament, and felt yourself become torn. You were hoping to offer Sans that opportunity, after he talked to you about the yellow magic. While you didn’t know if you should worry, you remembered what he was like after revealing the timelines and knew that, if it was anything like that first night stargazing, he shouldn’t be alone afterwards.

“TOMORROW WOULD BE FINE, IF YOU’D RATHER BE ALONE TONIGHT.” Pap’s skull had a slight orange flush across it as he, no doubt, imagined the reward. “OR WE CAN CHOOSE SOMETHING ELSE FOR FIRST PLACE, IF THAT WORKS BETTER FOR YOU, HONEY.”

“No, that’s fine.” You moved towards the sink, pink in the face, and turned on the water in the hopes of hiding the noise from your soul. “If that’s what you guys want, then I’m okay with it. But tomorrow would work better, if that’s alright.”

“And no one gets to choose Pikachu!” Mutt grinned, his red lights on Butch as the group slowly filtered out of the kitchen. “That thing is broken!”

“you’re just… salty.” Butch grinned, his eye lights glancing at you as he followed his brothers out.

“...what’s a ‘Pikachu’?” Axe asked, his skull tilted.

“sounds like they’re having fun.” Sans grumbled from the table and slouched down in his chair. You looked over your shoulder from the sink, your hands covered in suds, and smiled softly.

“I was actually hoping you would stay with me tonight,” you said, feeling like it was okay to announce this now that the noise from the living room filtered down the hall. Sans tilted his chair back and continued to stare at the lists in front of him. “I mean, you don’t have to, but I wanted to offer it…”

“Pap told you about that, didn’t he?” Sans put his pink slippers on top of the table and put his hands behind his head, to rest his skull against them. “that thing with my room.”

“Are you angry?” You paused with the dishes, to listen over the gentle clinking noises the plates made in the hot water.

“a bit.” Sans shrugged. Without being able to see his face you couldn’t tell how upset he actually was. Even though he admitted to being a bit upset, his low voice was the same, even tone it usually was.

“I didn’t do it to upset you.” You said gently and placed a clean plate in the other sink. “I didn’t care if you guys had a mutual understanding and cancelled the agreement. I just-”

“-don’t want us to break our promises.” Sans finished. He turned in his chair to watch you and you could see that he had a lazy grin back on his skull. “yeah, I figured as much. you should’ve known I was going to fight it.”

“Why?” You moved the last plate to the other sink and started on the cutlery. “Oh, Sans, if you want to help, could you bring me the pans?”

Sans rose from the table and physically brought you the requested pans from the stove. You wondered why he would get up, you knew he could use magic to move things from afar. But as he dropped the pans into the sink and came up behind you to snake his arms around your waist, you knew why.

“you always were pretty adamant about keeping promises.” His low voice said in your ear as he rested his skull on your shoulder. The white lights in his sockets watched you scrub at a pan while he stood there and held you. You could feel his hands moving as he turned his bracelet around his bony wrist. “your parents raised you like that, right?”

“Yeah. Did you… want me to hold you to it?” you asked.

Sans shrugged, his loose grip on you shifting slightly as his shoulders moved. “I didn’t really want to break the deal, I love seeing my brothers squirm when I mess around with them, but I really hate cleaning. there’s not a lot a point in doing it if it’s just going to get dirty again, you know?”

“My mom always told me,” you said as you drained the water and picked up a towel to start drying, “that the thing about keeping your life in order is that it’s not fun. I don’t enjoy homework, but I need to do it to get good grades. I don’t like doing laundry, or paying bills, or even clipping my nails. But I do it all anyways because I like having the good state of mind that comes from caring for myself. That’s the thing about maintaining, Sans; it’s not fun. It’s work. The same thing applies to cleaning house. Maybe you don’t like cleaning, but you do appreciate the way the house looks after Milord cleans it, don’t you?”

“...it reminds me of the resets.” Sans said quietly. You paused with the towel and turned your head towards him. “no matter how many times I try to pick it all up, to get it right, it just goes back to the way it was and none of what I did ever mattered.”

“But it’s different every time, right?” You set the plate and towel down and turned so that you were facing him. “You said it yourself. The changes might be subtle, but they are different to the point that this timeline isn’t even close to how the first one was. So maybe, even though all that picking up seems pointless in the moment, maybe that helps the next time be a bit better.”

Sans chuckled, leaned his forehead against yours, and tightened his grip around your waist. “...I still hate cleaning.”

“So don’t try to do it all by yourself.” You reached around behind you, for the towel, and shoved it into his hands. “Come on, you dry, I’ll put away. Don’t cut corners, either, or I’m giving them back and you’ll have to try again.”

“you know,” Sans tilted your chin up and brushed his teeth against your lips, “if it was anyone else telling me to do this, I’d tell them to get bent.”

“Does… anyone else?” You leaned against the counter, your heart pounding in your ears, as Sans pressed his body against yours.

“what, tell me what to do? threaten me?” Sans laughed and hovered just above you, his white lights a haze, “they don’t have the guts. even though we’re skeletons and don’t have those, anyways.”

He held you there without getting any closer and you waited for him. He had asked you once to let him go at his own pace and you wanted to respect that, but you couldn’t understand why he didn’t want to close that last breath of a space, even though you could tell that he wanted to. The way his fingers closed around your waist, the way his breath quickened ever so slightly, and the way his eyes relaxed into a deep haze all told you that he wanted to.

“...what are the chances, you think,” he asked quietly, his low voice barely a whisper over your face, “that when the next reset happens, you and I can get this close again?”

“ _ If _ it happens,” and you made sure to stress the word ‘if’, “I think the chances are good. Given that you don’t lock yourself away in your room, or avoid me. I think if you try and open up, and spend time with me, and tell jokes and pull pranks with me, the chances are very good. Especially if you laugh more. I really love your laugh.”

“you think so?” Sans brushed his knuckle over your cheek and pulled away. You nodded, a sneaking suspicion filing you. The tone of this conversation felt very familiar. All you needed were some half made truffles.

“You’ve never opened up to me before, have you?” you asked. Sans’ lights solidified slightly and he looked away. You took that as a yes. “You know,” you locked your fingers behind his waist and held him there as he tried to pull away, “I think you’re the one with intimacy issues, not me. I’m not going to get scared, Sans, no matter what you have to tell me. Maybe it’s time you let that all off your chest and let someone else help you carry it for awhile. Even if the timelines do reset, don’t you think it’ll be easier to handle if you know that there was a time that someone accepted it all?”

Sans gave you a weary chuckle and let his hands rest on your forearms. “yeah, I guess you would know better than me about that.”

He gently pried your hands apart and gave the towel back to you. You looked at him curiously and he gave you a plate from the sink.

“why don’t you finish up here?” Sans folded your hands around the plate and took a step away from you to examine the sunset in the window at your back. “when you’re done, I’ll bring you up to the roof. it’s not dark yet, but this’ll be a long story. I’m going to grab some stuff and set up so you don’t get too cold.”

“You’ll come get me?” you asked as you watched Sans saunter from the kitchen towards the joyous noise in the living room, but not to join it.

“promise.”

~~~

Not twenty minutes later, Sans returned to you in the kitchen. He held out his hand to you, the usual lazy grin gone from his skull, and the moment you touched him he pulled you into the void. Darkness and the smell of damp wood pressed in from all directions, nearly suffocating you in that second, before you reappeared in the waning sun on the roof.

Though the light from the setting sun was warm, you understood why Sans had left you somewhat early. The night would be cold once it settled around you. Sans gave you your leather jacket to put on and guided you into a nest of blankets, made up of yours and his, before he wrapped them around you. At your prompting, he joined you inside them and you nestled together to look out over the woods towards the red and pink sky.

“the days are getting longer…” Sans sighed heavily, his white eye lights wavering sadly as he stared at the low star on the horizon. You found his hand under the blankets and gave it a gentle squeeze. Sans looked at you, chuckled, and admitted, “honestly, I have no idea where to begin.”

“What would be easiest to talk about?”

“none of it really is.” Sans shrugged. “I’ve never told anyone about this. no, that isn’t right, I tried to tell Pap once but… he didn’t take it so well.”

You tilted your head. “about…?”

“well, the timelines.” Sans pulled your hand into his lap and the fingers from his other hand traced the lines on your palm. “what’s happening with you isn’t the first time the resets happened. they happened before, in the Underground. I had no idea what was going on then, it was my first time, you know? so I tried asking Pap, to get his help. we… told each other almost everything back then.”

Quietly, patiently, you waited for Sans to continue after he sighed again.

“no, that’s not the right place.” Sans glanced at you before he resumed looking out over the barren trees. “if you’re going to understand, I need to go all the way back. I’ve never told you about our mom, have I?”

You shook your head.

“you can ask questions, if you want to,” Sans said, noting your determined silence.

“I can wait.” You gave his hand another squeeze. “It’s easier to keep going once you start than it is to start again after answering questions. You tell me when it’s okay to ask.”

Sans nodded, a grin tugging at his teeth for the barest moment, and continued. “none of us really knew our mom. me, my brothers, none of us. she was the type of monster that hated being tied down. she moved from District to District and never stayed in any one place for very long. she was an alpha, too, but from what I know she never remarked any of her betas once she got what she wanted from them.

when she had us, she didn’t stick around to care for us. Pap was dropped off to be raised by me, Mutt was given to Milord, Edge was left with Red, and Butch was given to Axe. as you know, we all grew up in different districts, so Red, Milord, and Axe were apparently raised by her old betas, but I don’t know for sure. I’m pretty sure Axe lost his guardian too early; the way he acts shows that. same thing with Red. Milord, on the other hand... I think he was picked up by our old King before he died. or maybe even one of the Queens? he never would have had the money to become so educated, otherwise. again, I don’t know for sure, but it would explain a lot about each of my bros, don’t you think?”

Sans paused and you waited quietly with questions burning on your tongue. You told him you would wait until he said it was okay to speak, but as the silence stretched on, you had a hard time restraining yourself. “But she must’ve cared about you if she left you with someone to raise you! I don’t know what life must’ve been like, back then, but…”

His white eye lights looked at you out of the corner of his sockets and your reassurance trailed off. Instead, you asked quietly, “Who… did she leave you with?”

A small, bitter laugh escaped Sans. “I know you want me to open up but... can you promise me one thing, Thyme?”

“Of course! Anything!”

“don’t tell any of this to my brothers.” Sans said, a hard seriousness to his voice. “I mean it, Thyme. I don’t want any of them to know anything I’m about to tell you.”

Once you gave him your promise, he squeezed your hand and held it to his chest for reassurance. His fingers came up from beneath the blankets to move the bracelet on his wrist so that he was holding that, too.

“there’s one more of us that no one else remembers. they all think I’m the eldest, but...” Sans mumbled quietly. You leaned in to hear his low voice over the wind. “I guess that’s where all this starts, with who I was left with. my dear older brother: Doctor Wingdings Gaster.”


	22. Ch 20 - The Beginning

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I thought about waiting to post this, but I decided I didn't want you lovelies to wait any longer for some answers. Maybe not all of them, but some. 
> 
> ...I just wonder if you'll pick up on the pieces I've been scattering since day one.
> 
> Aaaaand here it is! Enjoy, and thank you for reading thus far <3

Ch 20 - The Beginning

_ The first thing I ever remembered was his smile. Wingdings was always smiling. He was smiling when he taught me how to speak, when he held my hands and showed me how to walk. He smiled when he taught me how to dress myself and how to hold a fork and how to write my name. He was the only one I knew for many years and so, like him, when I met others I tried to always smile, too. _

_ I soon found out that was a strange habit of his; the smiling. It wasn’t that he found everything funny, he just knew that people were more kind to him when he made that small change to his face. Usually it worked. Others would patiently listen when he started going on too long about something that excited him, but it also unnerved people. No one likes a guy who will stand there and smile while you tell them about your bad day. He didn’t mean to make anyone uncomfortable, but he didn’t understand when he was supposed to change his expression. _

_ I discovered, though my growing interactions with the world, that most people felt that Wings was an awkward guy to be around. He was terrible at reading people and, despite his best intentions and his brilliance, he had an unfortunate knack for saying things the wrong way or at the wrong time. To give you an example, I remember that he once tried to congratulate a female monster for being pregnant and he ended up getting slapped across the skull. Turns out, that female was just fat. He didn’t mean anything by it, but like I said, the guy was just awkward. _

_ But besides that one instance with that female, people were polite enough to his face. He was the Royal Scientist, after all, and it was more than their jobs were worth to insult him directly. _

_ He found out how weird others thought he was, even though he didn’t understand why, because I asked him once about the whispers I had heard behind his back. I didn’t mean to hurt him, but I knew that I did because, for the first time in my life, I watched his smile shrink by a few teeth. He stopped coming to Court after that. I don’t think he ever blamed me. Despite that one bad question, he still encouraged me to keep asking more. I did ask them, but only to him. He still wanted me to go to Court, to learn how to act around others, but I got in trouble a lot. The Queens didn’t like that I would pull pranks on the others but I didn’t like them saying those mean things about my brother behind his back. I was just a little kid, so they didn’t punish me, but I can’t count the number of times my Guard escort would march me back to the lab to be punished by Wings.  _

_ Wings didn’t understand that I did something wrong. He just quietly smiled when the Guard explained my latest prank. Wasn’t I just trying to make people laugh? Why was that bad? It was only at the Guard’s insistence that I receive punishment that Wings would sit me down in the corner and make me study. The others saw that as fitting. Most kids hated studying because it meant they couldn’t play. I loved it because it meant that I got to spend time with Wings. _

_ He now spent most of his time alone, in his lab, and would only come out of it to speak with King Asgore about his progress or to care for me. Even though I was still small, I could understand that he was isolating himself and didn’t like to think that he felt like he was alone. So I started to follow him around the halls and parrot the jokes I overheard at Court. Whenever he heard one of those, his eye lights would turn bright and that smile of his curled up at the corners when he let out his warbling laughter. His favorite ones were the puns. I didn’t care that he laughed at the wrong part, or before I gave the punchline, I lived for those rare moments I could bring him joy. _

_ As you’ve probably already figured out, I grew up with him in the Palace at the top of New Home City. It’s the highest place in the Underground, the place where the Royals could see the entirety of their kingdom from above. When I was little I tried to spend as much time as I could with him in the lab even though I wasn’t allowed. Wingdings insisted that I try to have a normal childhood and so I was allowed to wander our branch of the Palace on my own to play. Even with my memory, I’ve lost count of how many times I ran up and down the white hall leading from his secluded lab to the King’s garden. _

_ Growing up in the Palace was lonely. There weren’t any other children in the palace for me to play with and all the adults were busy with Court business. Wings did the best he could, he gave me more of his time than he should have, but he still had his duty and I knew some of his experiments were dangerous. It had taken forever to convince him to let me come deeper into the lab with him, but he wouldn’t let me pass the main doors when he worked on those. _

_ Sometimes, when Wings was occupied with an experiment, Asgore would bring me into his garden for tea and to tell me stories about young Prince Asriel. It wasn’t exactly like I had the departed Prince as a friend, but I knew him through his father’s recollections and felt close to him. I’d like to think that Asgore saw me as a second son, but in reality, I was probably just a placeholder for the one he lost. Toriel had disappeared after Asriel’s death and, when Asgore thought I wasn’t looking, I could glimpse the despair he locked away. _

_ I didn’t find out until a long time later that Queen Toriel was the only one that ever bore a child with King Asgore. Asgore was their shared beta, so the other Queens adopted Asriel as their own and had mourned with him. When Toriel’s son died, none of the other Queens wanted to conceive out of respect for her loss. They’re sisters, after all, and even though they competed with each other for power there were some lines that they wouldn’t cross. From my understanding, one of them even picked up the ruling over District One during Toriel’s absence so she could heal. _

_ King Asgore was the one to tell Wings about my memory. Every story he ever told me, every plant he ever described to me, or every book he ever read to me, I never forgot it. Even if it was a passing glance. Asgore insisted that I had a gift and that Wings should teach me all he knew. I wasn’t even into my teendreds, but Asgore was sure that I would be just as brilliant as Wings. The only thing better than one royal scientist was two. So, with the court’s support, I became Wings’ assistant. _

_ It was the first time I got to spend hours, days, of uninterrupted time with my big brother. I absorbed everything he taught me, eager to prove myself to him, until he trusted me with his most delicate experiments. He couldn’t explain the purpose for everything, because I was just an assistant, but I dutifully followed his orders. I ran through sheets of numbers he gave me and made up theories. I argued points about the quantum realm and how their problems with time and space could possibly be solved. I diligently manufactured the colored, faux magics he needed according to his instructions. Making even a small amount of faux magic was beyond difficult, but I never forgot a step and he was proud of my work. He had been the only one, until I came along, who could successfully bring that impossibility into being. _

_ Eventually, with the two of us working so seamlessly, the Court approved for us to have an assistant. Because of my success under his guidance, I had just officially been granted the higher title of Royal Scientist to share with Wings. I was never on the same level as him, I didn’t have the creativity or lack of inner holdups to go outside of the box with my experiments, but he was overjoyed that I had achieved the same rank as him. _

_ With our new assistant, a young, capable reptile monster named Alphys, taking care of the smaller things, Wings finally took me to the very back of the lab. I never knew it existed; there were so many hidden doors and security codes just to reach that place. Everything was made of metal and much of it had been stained white. The air there vibrated; some unknown magic thrummed through the air. _

_ That’s when I saw the Barrier for the first time. I can’t really describe what it looked like, the color never stayed the same, but just the noise that it made was enough to stick with me. It was like an engine running inside of the stone of the mountain, like a monotone bass that shook my bones. It constantly hummed with power and Wings warned me repeatedly to never touch it even though he knew I only had to be told once. _

_ I never wanted to go near the Barrier. Just being in the same room, seeing it through the plexiglass and from across an immeasurable, ever changing distance was more than enough. Wingdings didn’t need to tell me that it was made of magic, that it’s very being messed with the laws of time and space. I could see their distortion whenever I tried to look into the Barrier itself. He didn’t need to tell me that it’s magic wasn’t born from us monsters. Something that overwhelmingly powerful could only have been made by the humans and their infinitely powerful souls. _

_ He showed me his life’s work, a machine of his design that was the one hope for the Underground. Thanks to King Asgore and the rest of the royal family, and what they knew about humans from the time before the Barrier, Wings was able to design a theoretical counter against the old human magic. It was a way to take our own, weak magic and combine it into something that resembled a human’s. The stuff I had been making for Wings, the colored, faux magic, it was a mimic for human souls. Since human magic made the Barrier, Wings reasoned, only human souls, which carried their unique magic, could overpower the Barrier and break it. _

_ We went over his calculations hundreds of thousands of times. I even recognized some equations he had kept from my apprentice days. He also taught me about his machine and how to use it. Never how it worked, that was something he said was too dangerous for me to know, and I didn’t wonder about his reasoning. He had kept things from me before, but that was only to keep me safe. Why would this be any different? _

_ Wings warned me that it could be disastrous if we tried to break the Barrier and failed. I questioned why we would need or want to. Weren’t we happy down here? Did it matter if we ever left the mountain, if we were safe and away from the humans that did this to us? Was the risk of disaster worth being able to leave the mountain again, especially if the humans were still hostile towards us? _

_ King Asgore, who was with Wings and I as we were going through our final preparations, answered me. He said that when the humans locked us in, it created total anarchy among his citizens. I was too young to remember the end of the civil war. I wasn’t born until centuries after the Barrier was put up so the small part of hell I was alive for wasn’t even the worst of it. But King Asgore knew it all. He and the Queens were all alive then to see their son die and to see the humans hunt us to near extinction before locking our civilization beneath the stone. He remembered how the Underground fell apart and we very nearly killed ourselves in panic before the three Queens brought down their iron fists to keep us under control and alive. I knew of their many laws, of their cruel punishments to deter us from breaking them, but Asgore assured me that they did it only because they had no other choices left. They loved their people, but we had proven during the civil war that we couldn’t be trusted with too much freedom. _

_ Then Wings showed me the numbers for the Underground. That, despite things being okay now, we would eventually run out of resources. We might have skirted extinction through our fight with the humans, and again with our civil war, but we couldn’t sustain our numbers as we rebuilt. Food, shelter, everything that we needed to survive would dwindle the longer we stayed down here until eventually there would be nothing left. It was a race against time to get out and the clock was not on our side. He guessed we had a couple centuries before we all starved. Or, if that didn’t happen, we’d fight over what little was left until there were so few of us that we could never rebuild again and then die out anyways. _

_ Knowing about our impending doom, I lost my own misgivings and my wariness for this experiment. I threw myself into it with as much passion to rival both Wings and Asgore combined. I was the one who found the small error, the tiny lack of power output with the machine that told us we needed more than just a match for each kind of human soul. If we were to break the Barrier, we needed to overwhelm its magic, not just equal it. _

_ Wings had the idea for a monster soul to be added to the machine. Adding a second of any kind of human soul wouldn’t change the numbers, it had to be different from the rest. I didn’t think twice about his suggestion, it worked, it balanced all the math out and satisfied any quantum loopholes within the Barrier that could’ve set us up for failure. _

_ What I didn’t expect was for him to offer himself to the machine. _

_ The day of our attempt, he helped me set up the sequence like we were going to do it together. King Asgore was there, to go over the notes, while Wings went to double check the connections. I was working on inputting our numbers. I never suspected what he planned to do. _

_ When he stepped into the machine and locked himself inside, I panicked. I told him it should be someone else, anyone else. He didn’t need to use himself for the initial try. What if it failed? What if we were wrong? I needed him! _

_ Asgore held me back and flicked the switch for me. He told me while I struggled that he and Wings had met beforehand. Wings knew I would never let him do what he did, but he also knew that there weren’t a lot of monsters as powerful as the three of us. Even the Queens combined couldn’t rival the magical prowess the three of us possessed individually. The Underground needed its King, so Asgore had to be saved. And Wings told me, just as the machine whirred to life and started to extract his soul, that he loved me and could never watch me die. He was doing this so I could be happy and free in the future.  _

_ How did he think I could ever be happy after watching his smile turn to dust before my eyes? How did he think I could live with the memory of watching his soul move through those cold, glass tubes to join the fake ones we had built together? How was any of this fair, when he knew that it was impossible for me to forget or for my memory to fade? _

_ It looked like it was working. The machine combined all the different colors of magic into something like the Barrier and shot it out against the old human spell. The Barrier swelled and cracked, like a balloon talking too much air… _

_ Then it rebounded. Violently. The magic exploded back into the lab and destroyed everything. It all went dark and I started to lose consciousness after I was thrown and my skull hit the metal wall. The last thing I remember seeing before I blacked out was a faint trail of yellow trailing from the impact point against the Barrier to my chest. I vaguely remember touching that faint plasma, smelling the honey of his magic for the last time, before I couldn’t keep my sockets open anymore. _

Sans pulled his knees up to his chest and buried his face in the blankets. He was trying to keep you from seeing the blue plasma pouring from his sockets, but it leaked out and fell down the blankets to pool in your lap. You put a gentle hand on his shaking back, your own tears falling silently, and gently rubbed up and down his spine to reassure him you were there.

“Deep breaths…” you told him gently, feeling his ribs quiver as he hyperventilated. Sans obediently followed your guidance, letting your voice and soft touches ground him again. He pulled you into his lap, to hold you tight as he stared out at the darkening sky.

With his breathing normal again, Sans didn’t offer any explanation or tell you it was okay for questions. He tightened his grip on you as he steeled himself, took a deep breath, and continued.

_ I woke up in that room. Asgore was there, just starting to wake up, too. When we both realized we were alive, he asked me what happened. I told him we had failed. _

_ He asked me why. I was still in shock, but I could tell him that Wings and I miscalculated. We couldn’t destroy the Barrier. It should have worked, everything seemed right in the math, but it didn’t work. _

_ Asgore told me I had to start again. It almost worked! We could rebuild everything, the blueprints and my notes were safe in the other part of the lab. If I just adjusted the numbers and found where I went wrong… _

_ I told him I could never do it without Wings. Asgore looked at me funny. He asked me who I meant. My assistant? Her name was Alphys, not Wings. _

_ I became furious. Wings! My brother! This whole, stupid machine was his idea and he built it on your orders! I started throwing things at him in my rage as he questioned me again about who I was talking about. How could he forget Wings? How hard did he hit his head? Wings! The monster he just saw turn to dust because of HIS STUPID- _

_ Asgore restrained me and removed me from the lab. I fought against him, tried to kill him, even, because I blamed him in that moment for the death of my brother. He told me as he took me from that ruined room and tried to calm me that the blast had addled my head. I never had a brother. I was the only Royal Scientist. All those notes were mine, that broken machine was mine, this experiment and these analytics on the Barrier and forecasts for our dwindling resources were mine. _

_ I knew he was wrong. My memory was perfect. It always had been. _

_ Long weeks passed while I was forcefully locked away in my room. Every now and then, Alphys would visit me to ask me my opinion, or for an explanation, on my notes while she tried to rebuild. I told her I didn’t have one. Wings wrote that, not me. Even though I did understand it, I didn’t care to share anything of my brother’s with her. She acted like she didn’t know who Wings was, either, despite having worked under him for years. She pressed me for details on the machine, on how to make faux magic that didn’t fall apart or turn black over time. _

_ I refused to explain anything to her. If she wouldn’t admit that Wings existed, then she had no right to use his knowledge. Eventually, she gave up. She wouldn’t entertain my fantasies, as she so heartlessly called them, because I was supposed to be a scientist. Someone who dealt with facts or theories that could be proven or argued. I refused to argue about Wings. They were wrong, plain and simple. _

_ King Asgore came to try talking to me, too. He tried being kind and tried to persuade me that what my experiment was for the good of all monsters. All I asked from him was that he admitted he knew my brother and to tell me one memory of him to prove he was telling the truth. He couldn’t do it, so I gave up on reasoning with him, too. I wouldn’t return to the lab. I would stay silent about what I knew until they admitted who had been there before me. _

_ Asgore got angry at me and told me that my fantasies weren't worth more than the entirety of the Underground. I told him to get bent. I wasn’t going to work for him any more if he continued to deny my brother’s existence. My brother had given his life to his King and the Underground. It was really shitty of that King to pretend he didn’t remember. Asgore was the closest thing Wings had to a friend. I just wanted someone to mourn with me. _

_ After months of trying to get me to cooperate, the King finally let me go. Queen Slians sympathized with me. She had set up a quiet property for me in District One for my retirement and enough gold to live several lifetimes in the lap of luxury for my service. They all thought the blast of magic had permanently damaged my mind and driven me mad. Since I couldn’t continue my work, I lost my title as Royal Scientist. It didn’t matter. King Asgore and Alphys had everything they needed in my brother’s notes to try again. They were already doing it while I had been locked up. I was just in the way if they kept me in the Palace any longer. _

_ They had no use for a scientist who clung to a dream that served no purpose. But I knew Wings wasn’t a dream, I knew Wings had existed. I just didn’t understand why no one else knew him. _

_ In my long, lonely days in Snowdin, you know it as District One, I came to accept that the Barrier’s magic had something to do with why no one remembered Wings. That thing could warp time and space. I knew it more intimately than any monster besides my older brother. If something had happened during the blast, something that erased Wing’s time in the Underground, that would explain why nobody knew him anymore. But that didn’t explain how I still knew and it didn’t stop me from being angry.  _

_ At that point, I reasoned that I only remembered because the Barrier had punished me for trying to break it. No one should mess with Old Magic. And I was vindictive enough to never go back to the Palace to try and stop King Asgore from trying again. _

_ Let him learn his lesson the hard way. Let him lose someone he loves and then have everyone else forget them. I didn’t listen to my memories of his stories about Prince Asriel. I wanted Asgore to know my pain. Maybe if everyone denied Asriel ever existed he would understand and admit he had been wrong about Wings. _

_ Those days in Snowdin blurred together. I started to sleep most of the time. I wanted so badly to forget my pain and anger and I could only forget in dreams. But even then, every now and then, I would dream of Wings. He never said anything to me, but I could see his smile and the way the corners of his teeth curled up like I had just told him a good joke.  _

_ I forgot my anger as I stopped caring about the world around me. I started sleeping not just to forget, but in the hopes that I could see him again that night. And that night. And that night. And- _

_ Then Pap came and changed me. _

_ I didn’t get any visitors anymore. The Guard that was stationed in Snowdin had stopped dropping by to check on me a long time ago after I learned to stop answering the door. I never hung around anyone long enough to make friends, so when the doorbell rang I was angry. I wanted to be left alone. I had just been having a good dream. It was the same one I always had about Wings, where we just stood apart and stared at each other, but it was all I had. _

_ The visitor was a Guard from King Asgore’s personal entourage. I knew that because all of the dog monsters served under him. The Guard told me my mother had come looking for me at the Palace. They also told me they couldn’t keep it, no one at Court had the time to care for a child, and the Royals remembered my rantings about having a brother. They hoped that sending him to me would help bring me out of my madness. _

_ Pap was so small in my arms. For the giant he is today, he barely fit into both of my hands when I first held him. I didn’t know what to do. When I looked up to the Guard for advice, they were already halfway down the street. But then Pap looked at me with those blurry little white lights and I felt my soul awaken again. _

“you should have seen him, Thyme.” Sans wiped the blue plasma from his face and brought his hands up to show you the size Pap had been. A broad smile filled his skull as he let himself remember something as wonderful as the first time he met Pap. “he was just a little baby bones and he was so helpless… I couldn’t just… I had to keep him safe. you know?”

You nodded, feeling your heart warm as you imagined that sight. Sans was so happy about just that one moment and it was infectious.

_ He changed me. Having Pap there gave me purpose again. He was loud and so full of energy and I wanted to be to him what Wings had been to me. I wanted to teach him and protect him and make him feel so loved that he would know without a doubt that I’d never leave him. I still hurt from losing Wings, but I couldn’t try and sleep my life away when Pap needed me to be awake and there for him. _

_ I spent every moment with him. I kept him away from the Palace and tried my best to teach him what I knew without bringing up anything to do with Wings. I was afraid that, if Pap learned the sciences I knew, the Palace might try to take him and train him to become a Scientist. If that happened, if Pap would’ve been brought before the machine and had been lost, I probably would’ve tried to destroy the world if I felt the pain of losing a brother again. _

_ As I raised Pap, I slowly realized something was wrong. He had a sound mind, but he couldn’t control when his magic manifested. I didn’t know what to do, or how to deal with it, so I called in an old favor to Undyne. She agreed that some training might help but I had to understand that she normally didn’t take on kids. Like I said, it was a favor. I had helped her out back when I lived in the Palace with a breathing apparatus so that she could come visit her friend: my assistant, Alphys. It was a complicated bit of machinery, but it kept her gills from drying out and I reminded her I had built that for her without asking anything in return. Now was the time to pay up. She agreed that she would take on Pap for a few years to pay her debt, but I would have to pay in gold for any lessons after that point. _

_ Not long after Pap started his lessons, he walked in on me while I was sleeping. He shook me awake, freaking out. He was very much like when you first saw it, Thyme. The yellow magic leaking from my skull. _

_ He didn’t know how to handle it and he thought I was going through a color change, just like you did. And, just like you, I showed him my blue magic and assured him it was a trick of the light. He believed me. Why wouldn’t he? I had never lied to him before.  _

_ I just omitted the truth. It’s not lying if he never asked about the things I didn’t tell him or if I kept the dangers of the Palace away. Right? _

_ But now I had to wonder about this other magic he saw. I had never seen it before in my waking moments, but why would Pap lie to me about it? I had been dreaming about Wings just before he woke me. Pap didn’t know about Wings, so how could he have known that yellow was the color of his magic? _

_ That was the first time since the accident that I questioned how much I had been affected. When Pap left for his lesson with Undyne, I tried to summon the yellow plasma. I couldn’t. All I got was blue. I kept trying in every conceivable way to summon my magic differently and then… _

Sans paused in his story to look up at the navy sky. Almost all of the sun had disappeared on the horizon and the shadows from the trees stretched menacingly towards the house.

“what do you remember about that yellow magic?” Sans asked quietly. 

You tilted your head as you tried to recall. “I know that you can see souls with it. You looked for Edge that one time you put peanut butter on his doorknob and you looked at Butch right when he was starting to color change.”

“right, that’s true.” Sans brought his wrist out from under the blankets and fiddled with the plastic bracelet hanging on his bones. “I’m glad you remember. this next part will make sense to you, then.”

_...the world turned dark. I was looking at our house, but all of the colors had gone and everything was black. I could still see objects, they had a faint, white outline, but I could also see past the walls. There was a bar not too far from our house named Grillby’s. It lit up against all the black with a burst of white light. I couldn’t see at first, it was so blinding, but as I tried to bring it into focus I could see the individual sources of light. White lights, like tiny, upside down hearts, were moving and floating along inside of the bar. Some were pure, some had little veins of grey tinting them, and one had veins of black. _

_ I panicked, then. I knew what I was seeing and I didn’t want to. I couldn’t figure out how to turn it off until my magic was running low and I almost passed out from fatigue. _

_ You know that our magic gives us special abilities, right? That it allows us to make up for things that we don’t have naturally. Most every monster has the ability to summon weapons to defend ourselves or to move objects we can’t reach. Males need magic to accommodate for their chosen female. Every subspecies also has a special ability only they can use. For instance, skeletons can teleport.  _

_ But sometimes, in rare instances, magic will also bend itself to help its user. Pap is an instance of this since his magic has the rare ability to heal. Wings also had something similar. Since he was so bad at reading people, so bad at picking up on social cues, his magic helped him out. I know for a fact that Wings didn’t have any normal offensive magic, since he was the one that taught me to summon and control my own. Just like Pap, Wings couldn’t summon anything beyond our normal bone summons, but Wings could see souls. He would judge how good a person was based off of how much LOVE or EXP they had and from that he could determine if they were someone he could trust. _

_ I then had the theory that somehow, and I still have no idea how, the blast of old magic from the Barrier had given me Wings’ special ability. It didn’t change my magic, it didn’t even replace it, but I could access that part of Wings and use it. My eye only flashes yellow when I’m seeing or touching souls. _

_ I asked Pap when he got home if he had smelled anything when he woke me up. He didn’t know anything, so I played it off as a joke. But I knew. I could barely sleep that night even though I desperately wanted to because I knew, somehow, some piece of Wings was still alive and attached to me. The only explanation I have is the magic from the Barrier. _

_ It terrified me and thrilled me. I finally had proof that my brother existed, and I could break down the Palace doors and show all of them that they were wrong! I wasn’t crazy, I was right! Those bastards finally had to admit that Wings was once there! _

_ But at the same time... what had happened to me was unheard of. It was a freak accident. I didn’t want others to hear that I had gained a special ability and then try to use the machine to take other’s magics for themselves.  _

_ I decided I had to keep the ability secret if I was going to keep attention away from my new home. I already had a hard won peace by keeping silent about Wings. I didn’t want to unearth all of that old suspicion about my sanity and the scorn for my refusal to work. I didn’t want them to shift all that onto Pap and destroy the quiet life I was now trying to live with him. Everyone else had forgotten Wings and moved on so I had to pretend that I had, too. _

You leaned your head against Sans’ shoulder and quietly let him hold you. He stared a hole in the blankets and, unsure if he had more to say, you raised your hand slightly and waited for Sans to notice you. When he did, he gave you a small smile and a nod of his skull to show you could speak.

“I’m sorry, I don’t mean to interrupt,” you glanced at the stars popping into the sky and fiddled with the blanket, “but did you say you could actually  _ touch _ souls?”

Sans nodded. “you remember the first night you were here? that loud bang in the house? that was me restraining Edge. I’m not like King Asgore, I can’t do it through brute strength, but I can if I use Wings’ magic and my own. if you grab someone by their soul they can’t move at all and, if I’m really serious about things, I could even throw that person about just by holding their soul. I know I hurt Edge a bit when I restrained him, but he has too much LOVE for the touch to not cause any damage.”

“Is that what you meant earlier today?” You asked, curious beyond belief about Wings and his magic. “When you said that the yellow stuff couldn’t hurt me? Red told me that I don’t have any LOVE or EXP, is that why?”

“yup.” Sans gave a small chuckle and gently pressed his finger to your chest. “it can’t hurt pure souls. as long as you never gain either of those things, I could hold your soul in my hands and never hurt you.”

Sans withdrew his touch and laid back on the roof, his hands behind his skull, to look at the stars. The cold wind blew in through the gaps in the blanket and you quickly laid down at his side.

“So… what happened then?” you asked, still curious to know more. “You mentioned there were other resets that happened in the Underground and that King Asgore took over Wings’ experiments with Alphys. I know they must’ve succeeded in breaking the barrier, since you guys are on the surface, but how did they do that with you and Wings gone?”

“...I don’t really feel up to telling the rest of that story tonight.” Sans let one of his arms drift down and pulled you into him. “maybe some other time.”

“Do you at least feel a little better?” you wrapped your arms around his slim frame and rested your head against his rib cage. “What happened to Wings was awful, and I’m so sorry you had to go through all that alone. I… I can’t imagine what that must have been like, to have nobody believe you. But if it makes you feel better, I still dream about my parents now and then. That’s totally normal after experiencing a loss.”

You felt Sans’ hand squeeze your shoulder. “yeah, that does make me feel better. I don’t know why you believe me so easily, but I’m grateful for this timeline where you do. it feels good to finally talk about this and have someone not think I’m nuts.”

“Because I trust you, Sans.” You looked up at the stars with him. “Just like that night you told me about the timelines. I may not understand it all, but you’ve never lied to me.”

“yeah,” Sans laughed bitterly, “you believe me now, but who can say if the you in the next timeline will?”

You bit the question on your lips. He made it clear that he didn’t want to talk more about his past, and the resets were part of that, but you had to know. “Do you think that, maybe, those other resets from the Underground could help us figure out how to stop them entirely?”

The grin slid off Sans’ skull faster than melting snow, then he flicked your nose with his finger and his lazy smile came back. “stop asking questions. you told me I should live in the moment more, but how can I do that if you keep asking me to remember the past?”

You rubbed your nose, pink in the face for what you were about to do. “...one more question?”

Sans sighed. “one more.”

“What does it feel like to touch a soul?”

A small chuckle shook his frame and his finger went to trace a small circle over your chest, right where you knew your soul lay. “...like touching flame. it’s hot; it pulses and wavers with emotion, and you can feel it flicker and shrink as it dies.”

You knew better than to ask who Sans had held as they died. You didn’t have a guess as to who it might be, but you knew he wasn’t in the mood to tell you. “Do you know what it feels like to have your soul held?”

“I thought you said one more?” Sans smirked at you and pulled the blanket up over your head. “no more questions, Thyme, or I’m taking you down to the ground and throwing you into the snow.”

“I’m just curious,” you huffed as you uncovered your face. “I can’t help it, Sans. I know you don’t want me asking more about your past until you’re ready, but I still have dozens of questions about you and Wings. If I can’t ask about that, then I want to know more about soul stuff. Whether or not we have souls is a huge spiritual debate among humans. I didn’t even know for sure that I had one, or that it makes noise, or that it was green until you and your brothers started telling me those things.”

Sans’ grin widened and you felt his hand slither up to touch your chest again, just over your soul spot. “you know, I’m pretty sure I’ve never done that before. touched a soul just to feel it. it’s pretty personal, so I never asked anyone if I could. then again, I’ve never been able to open up to anyone like I can to you.”

You looked over to him, to his white eye lights that glowed in the dark as they stared at the buttons of your shirt dress.

“...can I?” Sans asked quietly. You missed the sound of his low voice over the sound of the wind and rattling branches of the trees and asked him to repeat himself. “can I… try it? I’ve seen your soul a dozen times but… I’ve never asked or tried to…”

“Hold it?” you finished for him. Sans nodded, a blue flush covering his nasal ridge as he avoided your eyes. You brought your hand up to rest against his, to stop his nervous fidgeting on your chest, and held his bony fingers to your racing heart.

He had said that the magic couldn’t hurt you and you trusted that. You trusted everything he had said about the timelines and his past, despite him being so forward with the fact that so many others didn’t believe him when he tried to talk about Wingdings.

He had always looked out for you. He may be distant, but you now understood why he was that way. With so many people that had shunned him because of the accident with his older brother, it was no wonder that he was nervous about opening up again. Not to mention everything he had yet to tell you about the other resets in the Underground.

You caught his gaze and felt your heart skip a beat. What he needed was someone who trusted him completely. Him asking to touch your soul was the most intimate thing he could ask of you and the biggest thing you could do to show him your trust.

“You can hold it.” You nodded, feeling nervous, but knowing that Sans would never try to hurt you helped keep you calm. “But if it feels too weird, you’ll stop, right?”

“I don’t know what it should feel like.” You could feel Sans’ hand shaking slightly beneath yours. He wasn’t expecting you to say yes. “you’ll have to tell me. but yeah I’ll- I’ll stop if you…”

“What do you want me to do?” You caught his other hand and gave it a reassuring squeeze. “Should I just sit here?”

Sans nodded and you adjusted yourself so you were sitting cross legged on the slanting tiles of the roof. He sat on his knees in front of you, the blankets draping like a tent from both of your shoulders, and spread his hand out over your chest. He asked one more time if you were sure and, at your nod, Sans let out a breath he had been holding to prepare himself.

“keep talking, if you can.” Sans told you as a light went out in his right socket. The other started to glow blue. “I want to know if you can tell me to stop. so... say anything, okay? describe what you feel to me.”

You nodded again and the yellow light flickered in his socket, alternating between the blue of his own magic. For a few seconds, you felt nothing, and then there was a pressure inside your chest that knocked the wind out of you. Something was moving there, something you couldn’t see, but you could feel it pushing towards your heart.

“Pressure,” you gasped, your hands flying up to grab Sans’ wrist. “It’s moving and… and it stopped. I can still feel it there, but…”

Something else was filtering in. You had been feeling nervous about this, but now there was a flood of emotions that you weren’t sure were yours.

“Fear,” You said quietly, your gaze falling to the blankets, “apprehension, hope, desire, despair, love, loss…”

“everything you’re saying is essentially what I’m feeling right now.” Sans chuckled nervously and you felt a spike in that corresponding emotion. “I’m not even holding your soul yet, Thyme, I just have my finger on it. do you want me to stop?”

“No.” You shook your head and let yourself get used to the new feelings. “No, I’m okay. Do you feel anything?”

Sans shook his skull and you urged him forward as you felt his curiosity. 

“Try holding it now. I’m ready if you are.”

You felt a wave of apprehension and hesitation before that pressure slowly increased in your chest again. You shuddered uncomfortably, feeling too much with the combined emotions in your heart, but then the pressure stopped moving and everything went quiet. The pressure was still there, it felt like someone was sitting on your chest, but you had lost that emotional connection with Sans.

“Did you?” You looked up at Sans curiously, wondering if he had broken the connection. He stared just as curiously back at you, his left socket still flickering between yellow and blue.

“I can feel you.” Sans’ low voice mumbled and he matched your confusion. “affectionate, nervous, surprised, confused, concerned… relieved?”

You nodded as Sans’ flickering light found your eyes. “This isn’t that weird. I mean, you being able to feel my emotions like that, since you can already hear them anyways…”

A blue flush covered Sans’ skull as he mirrored your embarrassment.

“why are you happy now?” Sans asked, a grin spreading beneath the flush to match yours.

“Because you finally opened up to me.” You felt the warmth of your affection run up that connection as your soul finally started to recognize it and accept it. You wanted to touch Sans, to feel his physical self, but you were frozen in place.

Something came back through the connection. You could feel some affection return, but it wasn’t yours. You fell quiet and Sans scooted closer to you. The night was quiet, save for the occasional breeze, but you and Sans had an entire conversation with your emotions in that moment.

You were happy that this was okay, that this worked out, and worried that he still hurt from loss. Sans reassured you he was okay and you felt that the loss had eased somewhat. He was relieved that you weren’t hurt by this, he was scared that you would leave. You were confused why he thought that. He was embarrassed that he was so different. He was ashamed that he knew that if he tried to tell others what was going on with him, they would look at him with worry and disdain. You felt hurt that he thought that about you and his brothers. He panicked and didn’t want any of you to feel hurt. You reassured him that he was safe with you. You felt calm and reassured by his presence. He was happy to submit to your calm and you let him claim it for his own, feeling trust past between you. You worried again for him, and mourned for his loss. He felt relief and gratitude towards you, then affection for you. That feeling grew into love just before a wave of anxiety and helplessness threatened to overwhelm him; born from his despair over the timelines. You countered that feeling by pushing back with a wave of love. You felt Sans’ physical body lean against yours and his sigh as he let you take control of the connection and wash that bad feeling away. Silence filled the air as you quietly rebuilt the shared love and trust between you and let it fill the moment.

“I’m going to break the connection now,” Sans said quietly to you. You knew he felt the pang of disappointment in you, but that didn’t stop the strange pressure from moving inside your chest, away from your heart, and finally lifting completely.

In the silence, now fathoms deeper without your shared emotions bridging the gap, you and Sans stared at each other, at a loss for words. They just didn’t seem to be enough anymore.

“...okay, maybe that was kind of weird.” You giggled after a moment. Sans joined you and in seconds you were laughing together towards the stars, your voices echoing over the dark forest.

“you know what?” Sans said though a smile as your laughter died down, “I think you’re right about this living in the moment stuff. even if there’s a reset, I’m glad that just happened. I’ll never forget this. there was nothing between us just now. nothing! I don’t think I’ve, no, I  _ know _ I’ve never been that close with someone else. who knew we could connect our souls like that? I wonder if Wings ever tried doing that before he...”

Seeing his smile fall, ever so slightly, you said, “Even if he never did touch someone’s soul, I think he would be happy to know that you found out what it was like. I don’t know too much about Wings, but if he’s anything like you or your brothers, I would have to guess that all he ever wanted was for you to be happy.”

Sans’ white lights searched your face. “...you think so?”

“I know so,” you nodded. “He wanted you to grow up as a normal kid, didn’t he? He also wanted you to share his life. It sounds like he didn’t get jokes, but he laughed at yours anyways. He tried to free you from the Underground and protected you from the worst parts of your work. Even after the accident… maybe that little bit of magic you have was his final gift to you. You said he couldn’t read people, maybe he wanted to leave you with the one thing he knew could tell you good from bad.”

“so, what do I do?” Sans asked you as he laid back on the roof to stargaze. “tell me, Thyme. I’ve been holding on to this for so long, what do I do now that I want to let it go?”

“Accept it.” You laid back and propped yourself on your elbow so that you were looking over Sans. “There are five stages of grief: denial, anger, bargaining, depression, and acceptance. You said it yourself in your recollection to me; you only pretended that you moved on. You’ve been stuck in the stage of depression for way too long, Sans. I know that it’s partly because of the timelines and the resets and all the other stuff you’ve been through, but I know it’s also because you feel guilt over what happened to Wings. That accident wasn’t your fault and you couldn’t have prevented it. Wings would have done it with or without you and King Asgore would have helped him. It’s okay to move on and forgive yourself. Wings wouldn’t have wanted you to mourn him forever, he would have wanted you to be happy.”

“...and the resets?” Sans picked at a loose thread in the blankets to avoid your stare. “how do I accept that? what am I supposed to do when the next one happens?”

“ _ IF _ they happen.” You poked at his ribs to draw his attention back to you. “It’s not guaranteed, Sans. Even if it does happen, you don’t have to stay the same. Instead of letting yourself become stagnant, do what you can each time to get a little better. Fight it. Look for answers. Try to find a way out.”

“I’ve done that…”

“Then keep doing it!” You snapped at his defeated sigh and his white lights shrank at your sudden forcefulness. “If you’re stuck in a loop, keep pushing and pushing and don’t ever give up until you break out of it! You asked me if we could get this close again if time resets. I told you what will make us close again, but I can guarantee that won’t happen if you just lay down and let this thing conquer you! Sans, I fell for you this time around because you told about the timelines and I saw you still fighting it! You kept smiling and telling jokes and pulling pranks. You kept helping your brothers get along and you tried to steer me away from paths that you knew were doomed to fail! You’ve sacrificed parts of yourself to make everyone else happy but I’m sick of you not doing anything to build yourself up! I don’t care if I have to drag you out of bed every day from now on and figure it out for you! I’m not letting you give up on yourself or so help me I’ll kick your ass and-”

You never finished that sentence. Mid-rant, Sans had reached up and pulled you on top of him and you couldn’t say anything more past his mouth. You blinked in surprise as his blue tongue licked at your bottom lip and his hands trailed up and down your back.

He hitched you up so that you rested comfortably on his chest and you let him taste you despite the defiance stirring in your chest. One of Sans’ hands came up to cup the back of your head and keep you close so that you couldn’t pull away and start ranting again.

Not that you really wanted to. His kiss tasted like summer rain; like the hot and humid woods after a heavy storm when the air was still thick with the scent of damp wood and foliage. When you closed your eyes you could imagine yourself there, with him, with your clothes wet from the rain and the leaves tangled in your hair as he laid you down…

Sans broke the kiss, his breathing heavy, and his skull flushed blue. His white lights were hazy as he looked at you and his low voice growled, “do you know how much of a turn on it is to see you get all defiant like that?”

You shook your head, still dazed from his sudden show of affection. He nuzzled your cheek gently and traced patterns over your back with his fingertip.

“you know, I think I’m ready for this again. are you going to care if I mark you?” He asked, the hand not tangled up in your hair still wandering over your back. Again, you shook your head. Sans grinned. “good. because you’re the only one in the world who can talk to me with that much sass and I’m tired of letting you get away with it.”

He pulled you back into him and the taste of summer rain kept you warm against the chill of the night. Or maybe that was just the heat from you getting worked up. His hand had left your back and was moving up the bell of your dress, over your thighs and your backside…

Sans bit at your bottom lip and you couldn’t catch the small moan before it left you. He sighed and let his skull rest against the cold roof, his eye lights hazing even more as he squeezed at your hips. He whispered in your ear, “you don’t know how long it’s been since I’ve heard that song of yours, Thyme. I’m going to want to do more than mark you if we keep this up. your betas...”

“Remind me again how monster relationships progress?” you asked and went down to his exposed neck vertebrae, to gently suck at them while Sans answered you.

“male’s mark.” His fingers dug into your sides when you found his sweet spot and nipped at it. His breath hitched and he groaned, “c-claiming, then f-female’s mark.”

“That’s what I thought,” you purred. “I can’t give you my mark until I talk to the rest of the pack, but the male’s mark and claiming is the accepted part of dating, right?”

Sans nodded, his nasal ridge flushed and his skull leaned back to leave his neck exposed to you. You couldn’t help but smirk. If he wanted you to tease him, then you would, but you wanted to make some things clear first.

“If you want my mark, you’ll have to wait.” You gently bit at his neck, not enough to mark him, but enough for Sans to shudder beneath you. His hands came up to claw at your back and you grabbed him by the wrists to pin his hands above his head to make him listen. You sat back and glared at him, very serious. “I mean it, Sans. You’ll have to show me that you’re willing to pick yourself back up and try to figure this reset problem out. I’m willing to help you, too, so don’t try to do it alone. Once you show me you can do that, I’ll speak with the pack about your mark and then we can make it official. But until then and after, I don’t want you bragging about this to any of your brothers, okay?”

“yes ma’am.” Sans nodded, his white lights all but blurred into the black parts of his sockets through their haze. You held his wrists in one hand, like Axe had done to you during your heat, and let the other wander down and then up under his t-shirt to rub at the wings of his pelvis. Sans groaned, his hips grinding against yours while you teased him, and his breathing became heavier.

You hummed, pleased at his reaction, and returned to his neck to trace the tiny bones of his vertebrae with your tongue. You could feel Sans’ ribs move under your chest as he groaned again. You paused, lingered above his sweet spot to let him calm down a bit, then asked, “If I give you what you want right now, you’re not going to disappear on me again, are you?”

Sans shook his skull. “no. I’ve wanted this for too long. I need this. I should never have waited to be close to you again...”

You hovered above his neck and let your breath heat his bones. Sans shuddered beneath you with anticipation. “You’ll stop hiding in your room and you’ll tell me when you’re depressed?”

“y-yes.”

You nipped at Sans’ vertebrae and felt his fingers scratch against the back of your hand. “You promise?”

“yes!” Sans tried to bite at your ear and you bit at his neck again in retaliation. He cried out, “hot damn Thyme, I knew you could work me up but you’re driving me insane! when did you learn to do this?”

You didn’t answer, you just smirked and drifted down to his collarbone. Sans cried out again as you started teasing the spot for your future mark and you moved his hands to cover his own mouth. You were still on the roof, and you doubted that anyone was outside or awake at this time of night, but Edge was a possibility so you didn’t want Sans to make too much noise. Not that you were one to talk.

As your hand returned to teased the crest of his pelvis, you could feel the magic gathering next to your hand. When he was good and ready, you grasped his member and began slowly stroking it. Sans moaned into his hands and let his skull fall back against the shingles. He bucked his hips into you, pleading silently for more with his eye lights as he watched you nip at his collarbone. That look sent a shiver down your spine that stoked the heat flaring in your belly.

For all his power, it appeared that Sans had a domination thing just like Red did. Except that, unlike Red who wanted to fight you for it, Sans had been willing to submit right away. He had even pulled you on top before he kissed you. And for all that time after, he never fought you to be on top.

As Sans groaned at your touches, and you felt another thrill from knowing he let you have total control, you were finding out that you really liked being on top.

“My room.” You told him as you surfaced. Sans nodded and you felt him jerk beneath you. He was so worked up, he had to try twice more before he could pull the two of you into the void.

The pressure and smell of damp wood gave away to darkness and the smell of lavender. You and Sans fell in a heap on your bed, tangled within your combined blankets, and Sans used the opportunity to jump you. He immediately went after your neck, your soft spot, and you felt your breath catch in your throat as he slid his hand up your dress to your soaked underwear. He may have barely touched you before, but the thrill of holding him down and doing what you wanted had you just as ready as him.

“Lose the clothes,” you whispered to the side of his skull. He shuddered in delight at the command, nodded, and moved away from you to comply. 

Since you had just the shirt dress and underwear to lose, you were going to keep the striped thigh-high socks, you were ready to tackle Sans to the bed once he had stripped and thrown his clothes off to the side. You jumped him and pinned him beneath you again.

Before you could get both of his hands trapped, he managed to free one and used it to pull your body into his. He was already kissing you before you could get your knees up to rest beside his hips. With your clothes out of the way, you could feel his hardened member rubbing against your slick entrance as Sans ground his hips into yours.

He bit at your neck and you moaned into the side of his skull while his one free hand explored your body. The frantic touch sent fire to your belly, and you were tempted to let his other hand go, but he seemed to enjoy being pinned so you waited. When the free hand came up to explore your chest, you caught it and pinned it over Sans’ head again.

“wait,” Sans breathed when you went for his neck. Curious, you paused and sat back. Was he having second thoughts? He had said he was ready, but he had spent so long avoiding this…

You watched his eye lights drift over your body, over everything that he could see. It took a moment, but then you realized: he wanted to remember everything about this. Sans even took a deep breath to make note of the scent in the air.

When Sans nodded to you, you took a second to move his hands from above his head and brought them before his eye lights. The plastic bracelet slid down his arm and into the crook of his elbow, but the smile Sans gave you after he watched it move said more than he could’ve put into words.

“Ready?” You asked him, smirking mischievously as you pinned his hands again.

Sans grinned at you. “only if you tell me that I am.”

“Wrong answer,” you growled and moved to his collarbone. You didn’t bite with enough force to mark, but you still bit him as hard as you dared.

“yes!” Sans groaned beneath you, his hips bucking as you bit him again in a different spot. He cried out that word, again and again, with each bite you trailed up his collarbone.

You freed one of your hands and used it to guide him into you. As you slowly settled your hips onto his, to take in the entirety of his member, Sans brought his feet up underneath his pelvis and trust up into you. You cried out, not quite ready for that much so quick, but Sans realized he had been too eager and gently rocked his hips to help you get the rhythm for yours while you got used to his size.

Very quickly, your rolling hips found the perfect motion and you had to drown your noise inside his mouth and the taste that was so much like the rain. Being on top was very different. You had known there was a spot in there that made that electricity but now you were in position to control how quickly it built up. You also found that, by bending over to kiss Sans, you were also rubbing the spot above your entrance that built heat in you against his pelvis and the combined sensation was almost too much for you.

You had to lean back again and let go of his hands to brace yourself on your thighs. Sans kept his knees up so you could lean against them as you gyrated and his smirk told you that he was more than happy to watch you work. But with his hands free, he quickly moved them over your stomach and breasts. He only paused to tease a spot when you moaned and you squeezed his ribs with your legs to keep him from sitting up.

You were so close, that electricity was starting to become too much and you were losing your rhythm. Sans grabbed onto your hips, guiding you and holding you in place, as he started to trust again beneath you and you cried out as he hit that spot inside over and over and he was lifting you off the bed with his hips to get in deep while your head fell back and you bit your knuckles to muffle your delighted scream and Sans shuddered and moaned as his warmth filled you…

You fell on top of Sans, drenched in sweat and your breath coming in gasps, your legs too tired to move. Sans didn’t mind. He wrapped his arms around you and held you there while you both just breathed together. There was a curious sensation between your legs, like there was a sudden space there, and you realized it was because his magic had dissipated. 

Sans was the first to speak. “I don’t know how I’ll do it,” he whispered to your ear, “but I want to promise you this, Thyme. I’m going to do everything in my power to make sure this timeline never ends. I’ve said it before, but this is definitely the best one that’s ever happened.”

“You know,” you panted, “I would’ve thought, given what happens with the timelines, you would have wanted control during our, um...”

“nope.” Sans chuckled and traced a finger up and down your arm. “I’m always fighting for control in my life. with each and every timeline. I can’t help the resets, but do you realize how tiring it is trying to keep a hold on everything all the time? trying to keep my brothers under control, dealing with my job, and managing everything else behind the scenes to keep this house running... I don’t think I can explain how much of a relief it is to trust you so completely that I can just let go and give the reins to you for awhile.”

“I’ll remember that for the future.” you kissed Sans gently and he sighed into you again, his tongue gently wrapping around yours and you drank in the taste of rain. As he slowly pulled away, he lifted your hips off of his so that you could lay at his side. That position had taken a lot out of you, your legs felt like jelly. You’d have to remember that for the future, too. As you wiped your forehead with your wrist, you asked him, “How do you think you’ll tackle the resets this time? I want to help.”

“I don’t know how I’ll do it.” Sans shrugged and used his magic to cover your naked bodies with a blanket. He propped himself up on his elbow and looked down at you, a satisfied grin plastered on his skull as he took a moment to take you in. “before you, there were only two others who possessed the reset button. both of them were human. one is dead, and the other is better off dead. I don’t want you to have either of their fates so I don’t know how to go about it.”

“How’d their resets stop?”

“...I’d rather not talk about it and ruin this moment.” Sans white lights watched as he traced the tip of his finger over your bare chest.

“But what if there’s a hint there?” You sat up and Sans’ hand fell away. “What if we could repeat what those humans did, or learn from it, and find a way to stop the resets?”

“nope.” Sans sat up and poked your arm. “I just told you what happened to them. one is dead; their soul was shredded beyond repair to the point that even the reset couldn’t bring them back. the other is better off dead after what happened to them. you are  _ not _ going to end up like that!”

“Well, then let’s go back to what we know. Or, rather,” You turned and gently tapped Sans between his sockets, “what you know. You’re the one that remembers every single timeline. You’ve also told me that they have different lengths. Maybe if we look at the cause of death, the duration, and similarities between each timeline, we can find patterns that might give us a clue as to how to stop them.”

Sans held his chin and his gaze looked over the room. His white lights lingered on the ceramic horse head and the pile of books on your pine dresser. “...it’s hard to say if there are patterns. they all kind of blur together for me. I remember it all, of course, but it’s like trying to stop dye from blending into water. there’s just too much to sort through.”

“That’s your first project, then. You should write down all the timelines and try to get organized.” You had followed his gaze and spotted the horse, too, so you gingerly got to your feet to light a stick of incense. While you flicked the lighter, you explained, “It’s okay if you don’t have every detail down, but try to get all the major ones. Start with the first timeline and list any major events, how long it was, and the cause of my death. Once you write it all down, we’ll go over it together and try to find patterns.”

“I don’t think that’s a good idea.” Sans frowned as he watched you light the stick of purple incense and insert it into the ear of the horse. “do you really want to know exactly how, and how many times, you died?”

“I’ve already accepted my own mortality.” You tossed the white-shirt to Sans before you pulled your grey sweater from the dresser. “These deaths have already happened so it’s not like I should spend too much time thinking about them. I don’t even remember them, so my main focus is to not have them keep happening since they hurt you. And we have a common goal. I like this timeline, too. I’d like to stay in it.” 

“you’re such a weird little human.” Sans chuckled and pulled you into him to cuddle beneath the sheets. “I’ve only known a handful, but all of them were afraid of death. even the first one with the reset button, and that kid was a little psycho.”

“Who…?”

Sans cut you off before you could ask. “I’ll tell you about them when I finish writing down the timelines. they’re not pretty stories, but who knows? maybe you’ll see something that I don’t.”

“Alright, fair enough.” You sighed and rested your head against Sans’ rib cage. “Take your time with writing everything out, Sans. I want to help, but I’ve got my last week of cram studying starting tomorrow and then my midterms the week after that. I don’t mind working on this during that time, but I won’t have a lot of extra brain power after all that studying. We can work on this together over spring break, I’ll have a bunch of free time then.”

Sans stiffened beneath you. “...spring break?”

“Yeah. I have a whole week off. We can spend all day-”

“it’s that soon? just two weeks?” You heard the panic in Sans’ voice and sat up to look at him. His white lights, shrunken to pin points, held your gaze. “Thyme… we don’t have that long. you never make it past spring. this break of yours is… it means we’re almost to the end. there’s no exact day but…”

“Then we’ll figure it out before then,” you said firmly, trying to keep a lid on your own nerves for Sans’ sake. “Listen, Sans, seriously. We’ll figure this out.”

He pulled you into him and nearly squeezed the life out of you. “...stars I hope so. I love you too much to lose you again.”

“I’ll always come back. Time and thyme again,” you kissed his cheekbone and traced your fingertips over the top of his skull. “You can’t keep me away, Sans, because I love you, too.”

~~~

You sat at the kitchen table, the morning sunlight warming the back of your yellow shirt dress as you sipped your latte. A box of chocolate, one that you had pulled from the giant bag in your room, sat close by and you popped a truffle into your mouth after you set down your mug. You sifted through the stack of papers in front of you while you chewed and glanced down the neat row of bullet points that marked every chore. Sans had left the list downstairs when you two had gone to the roof and, after everything that happened, you had forgotten that you agreed to go over the list last night.

“Do you really do all of this every morning,” you asked Milord as his clipped steps across the tile announced his arrival, “or are you just trying to give Sans a hard time?”

“Good morning to you too, Zeta.” Milord said coolly and took the second, steaming mug you slid towards him from across the table top. He slowly sat down by your side, his purple eye lights appraising your outfit. “Yes, I do and, before you inquire, I also fully expect him to match my effort.”

“I don’t know how you do it all,” you sighed and pulled at your face with your hand. “Seriously, Milord, you’re incredible. How do you find time to do this on top of all your work for the Underground? Do you ever sleep?”

A small, lavender flush crossed Milord’s nasal ridge as he smirked at you. “Five hours a day, if you must know. If I had any less or skipped a day, my rationality would suffer, and that is unacceptable.”

You sighed and pulled the sheet for the kitchen out. “I guess I’ll take the kitchen, then.”

“Do not do his work for him.” Milord snapped and plucked the chore list from your hands, his purple lights glaring. “You’re trying to do too much, Zeta. I know of your desire to achieve in school and also about your persistence in assisting my endeavors. If your behavior last week with studying is anything to go by you will not have time to do these things for Sans!”

“How would you know my study habits? You were avoiding me last week.”.

“It wasn’t particularly difficult, seeing as you locked yourself away in your room most of the time.” Milord huffed and straightened the stack of papers. You caught his gaze, held it, and smirked as you flicked the stack of papers all over the tiled floor. Your grin widened at his obvious irritation.

“What was the purpose of that?” Milord asked, his voice like ice.

“To make a point.” You took his gloved hand in yours the moment you saw him lift his finger to do magic and popped another truffle into your mouth. Through the velvety chocolate, you mumbled, “You acknowledged last night that I was going to hold you both to your deal. Sans cleans, you don’t. At all. You’re not allowed to touch those papers.”

You kept a firm hold on his hand as you got up from the table and moved around his chair to stand behind him. You bent over, your grip sliding to hold his wrist, and whispered to the side of his skull, “But I can see how much this little mess upsets you. If you ask me nicely, I just might be willing to pick it up for you.”

Through your hold on his wrist, you could feel Milord’s slight shiver. He turned his skull to look at you and from your closeness you could see the beginnings of a haze starting to settle in his eye lights. “You  _ are _ trying to tempt me, aren’t you?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” You pecked his cheekbone with a kiss and released his wrist. While you returned to debate over your box of chocolate, you added, “I’m just offering you a small bit of help with your side of the deal. Just like I am for Sans.”

Milord’s eye lights narrowed at you, then he reached out as you passed, grabbed you by the waist, and pulled you into his lap. His hand slid up over the fabric on your back and he pushed you closer to him with a slight pressure between your shoulder blades.

“You forget how much self restraint I possess.” Milord took one of your truffles while you sat in his lap, examined it, then popped it between his sharp teeth. “Despite your advances, I won’t act upon them unless I think we have the time and privacy to do so. Just keep in mind that our relationship has changed from what it used to be. While I may appear to be ignoring my desires, I have my limits as well. If you want me to keep my head during your next heat I suggest you refrain from toying with that desire on a daily basis.”

“Says the guy who pulled me into his lap,” You couldn’t keep the taunt out of your voice and Milord responded by holding your chin between his thumb and the second knuckle on his pointer finger.

His voice was cool when he spoke. “I appreciate what you’re trying to do, Zeta, by covering the scent with this floral smoke of yours, but I still picked up on it the moment I smelled you.” He turned your head so that all you could see were his purple eye lights. “You do not have our enhanced senses, so you had no way of knowing, but I had figured your experience with me and my demonstration of precaution would have taught you that you need to wash away the smell of a claim. Unlike inanimate objects, your body retains scent. That smoke is not enough to cover your claim over Sans.”

You stilled as he ran his gloved hand up your thigh and under your dress. “Is… is that why you didn’t want me to help him with-?”

“I don’t care about that.” Milord’s sharp teeth hovered just over your lips. “ _ My _ point, Zeta, is that I am not without shortcomings. There are a very small number of things that can rouse my jealousy, but smelling another male’s claim on  _ my alpha _ is one of those few things. Have you marked him yet?”

“N-no.” you stuttered, your heart hammering in your chest as Milord drifted to your neck and his cold breath chilled your skin. “I didn’t talk to you guys about that, yet. I wanted to do that before I gave him my mark.”

“Good girl.” He gave you a small nip and you shivered. “I have no qualm if you mark him after this conversation of ours, but keep in mind what I have just taught you. You should be grateful that my time alone with you is very limited at the moment,” his cool voice turned into a cold growl in your ear, “or I’d bend you over this table right now and remind you that you are  _ mine _ .”

He gently turned your head, gave you one brief taste of menthol, and then shooed you from his lap.

“Do not forget that, Zeta.” Milord said as he rose from his seat. “Your betas may share you, but we are still possessive of you to a point. If you think my jealousy just now is too much, then imagine how Mutt or Axe might react if they detected another’s claim. They, unlike me, do not try to restrain themselves so completely and can barely handle the scent of someone else’s mark without trying to cover it with their own.”

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to make you jealous.” You fidgeted with the hem of your yellow dress, your cheeks pink with embarrassment. “Are you… are you going to get upset if I mark others besides Sans?”

“No.” Milord stood before you, his hands clasped behind his back. “As the alpha, you may take as many betas as you can handle. I am not jealous when I imagine you marking or even claiming anyone else since you are, by the very definition of alpha, free to be with whoever you desire. But you must understand just how sensitive my kind is to scent. It holds a powerful sway over our most basic instincts and our reactions change only because of our affection towards you. If you doubt me on this, remember your experience with my brothers during your heat. Just because we can maintain restraint does not mean we won’t be tempted.”

Milord turned to leave and you stopped him with a gentle hand on his shoulder. “Thank you for telling me all this, Milord. Every time I feel like I get a handle on this alpha thing there’s always something else that gets thrown at me to make me second guess myself…”

“You asked your betas to communicate with you,” Milord shrugged. “You’re still adjusting to your position and you lack all the information we take for granted. While you’re free to ask anything, I will make sure to tell you when I think you are in danger of failing. You want us to work together, don’t you? If you fail, that means I’ve failed as well. I do not accept such an outcome if I can prevent it.”

“Two more things,” you tugged on his shoulder as he turned to leave again.

“Be brief, then,” Milord sighed. “I’m already dangerously close to running behind.”

“I’ll be staying late at school this week to work on the petition. If you see the others and they’re wondering where I am, can you let them know? I already mentioned to Axe that I would be coming home later, but I don’t know if he took that as a hint to tell anyone else.”

“Very well, I’ll see to it that my brothers understand. What else?”

You leaned in and gave him a quick kiss. “Have a good day at work. I love you.”

A lavender flush reappeared across Milord’s nasal ridge as he smiled. “I’m quite fond of you too, Zeta. Study hard and don’t forget to pay attention during calculus.”


	23. Ch 21 - Friend or Frenemy

Ch 21 - Friend or Frenemy

A gust of wind tore through campus grounds. It shook the bare limbs of the trees, knocked melting slush from the roof, and slipped in through the tears in the sleeve of your leather jacket to caress your skin. You pulled your jacket tighter; your fingers catching Pap’s red scarf and holding it tight as the ends of it were tugged away in the gust. When the wind settled down and you were sure the scarf wasn’t going to fly away, you squinted your eyes against the bright, warm sun and passed by a group of students who chatted animatedly outside the campus cafe. Their jackets were open to the wind, their hats and mittens were absent, and the cardboard travel cups in their hands rarely traveled to their lips as they exchanged plans for the upcoming spring break.

Something cold and wet slipped down your neck and your hand flew up to catch another chunk of falling snow melt before it soaked Pap’s red scarf. Turns out, it wasn’t snow at all. It was just the wind knocking your wet braid behind the collar of your leather jacket. You fished your braid out and tossed the trailing, red scarf over your shoulders to keep it away from the puddles in the cracked sidewalk.

Though they had rubber mats leading into the political science building, you still tried your best to knock all the slush from your boots. You paused, to look at your pile of snow outside the door and then to look at the wet trails of slush that others had dragged inside. Despite the bright, warm weather, and the excited buzz following the other early morning students, you felt heavy.

You could feel spring in the air.

Another gust of wind forced more air into your sleeve through the tears Axe had made. Your arm was starting to ache. Not from the heavy bag on your back, but because the invasive chill had gone deep enough into your skin that it was starting to make the metal pin in your arm shrink against your bone. It was warm enough for snow to melt, but not warm enough just yet that you could ignore the lingering cold.

You slipped inside the warm political science building and turned towards the stairs. Your boots squeaked against the linoleum as you slowly walked through the empty halls towards Monster Studies. As always, you were the first one to enter the small, windowless classroom. But, unlike every other day, you did not immediately head towards the front row to your usual seat. Instead, you chose one in the middle, away from the spots where your other two classmates sat together, and let your head fall to the desk to close your eyes.

This wasn’t the first time a heavy talk with Sans had done this to you; made you feel like nothing mattered. It never affected you as badly in the moment since you felt you had to be strong for him, but the days after were always hard. After you had time to think. After you had dreams filled with things you could barely remember when you woke in the middle of the night, but dreams that still left you cold and shaking.

When he had told you about the timelines, you were so shocked that you needed days to process it. It had been a strange idea, and it had given you nightmares, but you were able to accept it because it still seemed detached from your life in a small way. You didn’t remember any of the other yous, it all seemed like one life in your mind, so you didn’t want to give up. You knew Sans struggled with dread, so you also wanted to show him that you could handle it and tried your best to project confidence so he could accept it, too.

It had finally gotten through to him. When you had woken Sans up in your bed, shortly after your talk with Milord, he seemed different. He made lewd jokes to you when you told him to take a shower after you to wash away the smell of your claim. ( _ why not save water and shower together?) _ He didn’t try to go back to bed when you put the chore list into his bony hands. He calmed you down when you were freaking out about missing the bus and told you to take a cab so you weren’t late. He had smiled from the moment his fuzzy eye lights flickered on in his sockets and he saw you. Not the lazy ‘I’m fine so don’t ask me about it’ smile, a real one.

You were happy to see him like that; to finally seem hopeful against the dread he carried because of the resets. But as you walked alone down the mountain and felt the warm sun, as you listened to the tires of the cab part the slush in the streets as it drove you to campus, you couldn’t help but feel his dread for him. Maybe you had actually taken it from him when your souls were connected, you didn’t know, but right now you couldn’t help but be afraid.

Afraid that he was right and your will to fight wouldn’t matter. Everyone in that house had changed so much,  _ you _ had changed so much, but Sans had said you never lasted past spring. He didn’t even know how it happened. He said you just disappeared and then it was the first day again. The first day he met you, the first day you walked up the mountain.

You had accepted your own mortality a long time ago. You accepted it when you were in the hospital, wrapped in gauze and racked with pain, that you were only human and you would die. Then you recovered and felt almost reborn from the knowledge that you had a second chance. You wanted to live life to the fullest, even knowing that there was an inevitable end, because your dad had sacrificed himself to give you that chance.

But you had always imagined you would live to be old and wrinkled. That you would have had time to live your dreams and raise a family and fawn over grandchildren. Accepting that you would die as you laid in a sterile room with leaking wounds was one thing. Knowing it would happen soon, despite you being healthy and happy, was quite another thing.

Spring had always seemed so far away when there was snow on the ground. Now it was all starting to melt away.

The door to the classroom opened and you glanced up. Your classmates, Ponytail and Camo, were here. You didn’t care too much about that. They hadn’t spoken a word to you after you argued with them about the story regarding the monster on the farm. You were thankful that Camo had left you alone after hitting you. You hadn’t pressed charges since you felt like you antagonized him, he hadn’t hit you more than once during your argument, but he still glared at you from across the room whenever you tried to argue with your professor on monster rights.

You turned your head at the sound of metal scraping against the linoleum. Ponytail was sitting a few spots away from you, away from the corner she usually shared with Camo. Was it always like that, or did it only seem that way since you were no longer sitting in the front?

Shortly after your classmates, your professor entered the room. He pushed his glasses up his sweaty nose and tried to flatten his windswept comb-over against his shining bald spot. You listened just long enough to hear today’s review topic, imports and exports with Mt. Ebott, before you rested your head on the desk again. You knew this subject forwards and backwards. Because of the media blackout, and the lack of new information outside of trade, the class had already gone over every law and every bit of information humanity had about monsters multiple times. It was ironic, you thought, that your short time living with the brothers had taught you more than your professor could have ever dreamed. Not that he would want to dream it, as he made so clear with his arguments against you.

You rested your head against the desk and quietly sighed. On top of your dark mood, your stomach hurt. Having chocolate for breakfast had seemed like such a good idea, but you seriously regretted it. Not only did you have that pain to deal with, now you also felt like a hypocrite. You had told Sans to live in the moment, to never give up and to keep fighting no matter what. But here you were, slumped on a desk, feeling like all the effort you made to fight didn’t matter.

If you were going to disappear soon, why should you try? If your time was running out, shouldn’t you spend every moment you could with the ones you loved instead of in this stuffy classroom? Sans had been living with his sight on the inevitable end and rebeginning, unable to appreciate the moment. Now that you had finally gotten him to focus on what was in front of him, you had taken a step back to see things his way and the future terrified you. Even if you didn’t disappear and reset, there was the war silently brewing in the Underground.

How the hell could you protect them if that happened? What if it was better that the reset happened? The war would never come and you could be with them forever. Who cares if you have to start over? Your souls remembered each other, didn’t they? So what did it matter if you had to reintroduce yourselves and open up and fight and try all over again until-

“Hey, uh, you okay?”

You lifted your head off the desk to see that class had ended. Ponytail stood in front of you, her manicured nails nervously fiddling with the pink velvet of her tracksuit.

“What do you want?” you grumbled, not in the mood to deal with her and her racist mindset, and reached for your backpack. 

“Um, do you want to get some coffee together?” She offered quickly as you stood and turned your back on her. Camo passed by the two of you, his narrowed gaze darting between you and the professor, and quickly strode out of the room.

“Why would you want to get coffee with me?” you shouldered your heavy bag, tossed Pap’s scarf back over your shoulder, and headed for the hallway.

“Look,” Ponytail chased after you, her clean, white sneakers squeaking against the linoleum while she backpedaled in front of you, “I can tell you had a bad morning or whatever, but stop being a bitch when I’m trying to apologize!”

You tilted your head, confused. “What?”

“Can we talk over coffee?” Ponytail stopped and, with her in your way, so did you. “I just… really want to talk. Do you have time before your next class? You can tell me about your morning, if you like.”

Your gaze travelled up and down her form flattering, pink tracksuit, her manicured nails and her blonde ponytail while you appraised her. She wanted to say sorry and seemed sincere… didn’t everyone deserve a second chance?

“I… guess.” You sighed, led the way up the stairs, and out of the building. “Want to tell me what this is about? You’re right, I’m not really in a good mood, and I’m sorry about that. I’m not trying to be a bitch.”

“Wanna tell me about it? Is it boy trouble or something?” Ponytail asked as she stretched in the warm sunlight while a pair of guys passed by. You resisted the urge to roll your eyes as their gaze lingered on her trim waist and perky bust.

Ponytail seemed to want to linger, at least until the guys rounded the corner, but you couldn’t care less about their flirty glances. It made you more comfortable if they didn’t look at you at all. You already had boy troubles in the form of dealing with maintaining harmony within your pack. That was still, by far, more preferable than the overwhelming dread brought on by knowing that your life was about to end with time resetting itself. 

You heard the crunch of sneakers on the cracked pavement as Ponytail caught up to you. She said nothing about you walking away, or her lingering behind. It was only when her gaze caught your hand rubbing your stomach that she said, “You about to start your cycle?”

“Yeah, that’s it,” you said, not wanting to talk about the resets, least of all with her. It was irritating that this whole idea was hers, but she didn’t even seem to take it seriously.

“You shouldn’t drink coffee, then. Caffeine causes  vasoconstriction and is only going to make them worse.”

“Huh?” You stopped with Ponytail at the campus cafe, the one you had passed earlier. With more students arriving as the day wore on, the line had already gone out the door.

“Oh, vasoconstriction is the tightening of blood vessels. If you really need a pick me up, try ginger tea. It helps relax your blood vessels and will ease your cramps.” Ponytail added, at your bewildered look, “I’m studying to be a nutritionist. It helps to know these kinds of things. You have to take care of yourself if you want to look and feel good and live a long time.”

“Um, thanks, I guess.” You adjusted your backpack and stood in line awkwardly with Ponytail. The two of you shifted restlessly on your feet, avoiding each other's eyes, until you finally decided that you should try. She didn’t seem like the most considerate person, and you were already stressed from your thoughts, but it would be nice to have a friend who was a girl. You gave her your name and another apology for your behavior that morning. “I just… have a lot on my mind. I’m helping my housemate through some stuff but it’s… heavy. It’s starting to kind of get to me.”

“I get it.” Ponytail nodded, her expression brighter at your introduction. “Yeah, I guess we never did give our names, did we? I’m Abby. Did you want to try that ginger tea? I’ll buy this time.”

You nodded and let Abby step up to the counter to order for the two of you. The inside of the cafe was sweltering after the cool day outside and all of the student bodies waiting clustered together for their drinks. It was hard to speak and be heard over the noise, so you and Abby fell into another awkward silence as you leaned against the striped wallpaper to wait.

“So you’re really into monster rights, huh?” Abby asked you, handing you the ginger tea, after you finally escaped out into the open air. “You’re always arguing with our professor about it. You really get that stuff, don’t you?”

You nodded and stipped the tea. Your nose scrunched up from the bitter heat, no one had added any honey for you, and you couldn’t help but think of Edge as you smelled the spice of the root. Would he drink ginger tea? “Yeah, I guess I do.”

“How do you understand all that stuff?” Abby gestured to an old, metal bench that had turned green with age. Wanting to rest your back and relieve it of its heavy burden, you agreed. “Seriously, I don’t get any of this. Do you think you’ll pass midterms just fine?”

“Yes…” you said slowly, having a slight feeling you knew where this was going.

“Sure you will, you seem smart enough.” Abby said quickly and gave a nervous laugh that didn’t reach her eyes. “So, um, about… that one time. Where uh, you know, Cameron and I said that stuff and he… well, I feel really bad about it. I’ve been wanting to talk to you for awhile but, well, I couldn’t find a good time. You give off this air when you’re super serious, you know? Like you’re daring people to argue with you and you’ll rip them apart if they try.”

You stayed silent. Abby didn’t say more, but the way she sipped her coffee and glanced around for people made you think she had something she really wanted to ask.

“You know something, don’t you?” Abby asked quietly, confirming your suspicions. “About monsters. I can’t think of a reason why you would fight for them so hard if you didn’t.”

“Why do you want to know?” You asked coolly, remembering all too well Abby’s racist attitude during the exact incident she mentioned. The attitude that she had yet to actually apologize for. “What does it matter if I know something or not? Monsters deserve rights just as much as people do.”

“Look, I know what you’re thinking, and I’m not racist.” Abby sighed and picked at the cardboard lip on her cup. “I wasn’t, you know, the greatest with how I handled your argument, but I didn’t think much about it. I picked up Monster Studies because I wanted to know more. And then I met Cam there, and he knows about monsters because his uncle’s a cop, and you know what our class is like. It doesn’t really teach us anything about actual monsters. So Cam told me he would tell me his uncle’s stories if we started going out and we did and I heard all that horrible stuff…”

Again, you stayed silent while you waited for Abby to collect her thoughts and you sipped your ginger tea.

“Cam’s a jerk.” Abby sniffed. She carefully wiped at her eyes, so she didn’t smear her mascara, and took another sip of her coffee. “I believed his stories. He’s not all bad, he helped me with the coursework since he knows so much about law, but… he’s racist. I mean really racist, not just against monsters. His whole family is like that. We... we broke up last week and I’ve been wanting to talk to you ever since. Cuz you know about them, don’t you? Monsters?”

“Is that why you’re talking to me?” You asked, trying to keep your tone even. “You want me to tell you more horrible stories? Or are you actually curious and want to learn facts to help understand them?”

Abby avoided your gaze. “I um, I just wanted to buy you tea and apologize…”

“Well, you’re right. I do know a lot about monsters. But I can see what you’re doing, Abby.” You set the cup of ginger tea on the ground. You didn’t want to look at it anymore. “Cam can’t give you more stories so you want them from me. He’s not helping you study now that you’ve broken up and your careful flattery earlier makes me think that you’re not doing so well without help, so you think that if you pretend to apologize you can get that help from me. Why else would you wait until after you broke up to approach me?”

Abby’s mouth fell open in astonishment. “Wh-why would you think…?”

“Because your intent is obvious!” You snapped. “We’ve been talking for how long and you have yet to actually apologize to me, despite you claiming that’s exactly what you wanted to do! You said you wanted to hear about my day, but when I gave you the smallest bit about it you brushed it off and changed the subject! I don’t care if you want to actually learn more about monsters, or if you want help in class, but be straightforward and ask instead of trying to manipulate me! Stop trying to justify your racist actions by shifting the blame to Cam, and stop trying to make me feel like I should pity you and give you what you want just because you don’t want others to see you in a bad light. Everyone makes mistakes, and everyone deserves a second chance, but I won’t give you that until you own up and be honest about what your real intent is!”

You glanced at Abby. The color had drained from her face to the point that you could see the lines of the foundation on her face. You sighed heavily and ran your fingers through your damp hair.

“Look, I’m having a bad day.” You sighed and stood up to put your backpack on. “Just leave me alone if you’ve got nothing honest to say. ...and thanks for the tea.”

As you walked away, you wrapped Pap’s scarf around your lower face. It had long since lost the smell of brown sugar, but it was a comforting feeling nonetheless. You would give anything to be back home with him, with any of the brothers. Their presence always made you feel better. 

You passed by the busy cafe again, on your way to the Psych buildings when you heard someone call your name.

“Wait!”

You heard the crunch of pebbles against pavement beneath her sneakers and felt yourself bristle. You didn’t want to deal with this any more, you didn’t want to listen to her if she was just going to try and use you. Maybe it was because you didn’t really like her in the first place, but for the first time you felt like you understood why Edge was so distrustful of humans.

“You forgot this.” Abby held out your cold ginger tea and put it in your hands. Her mouth opened and closed a few times, like a fish, and her cheeks turned pink beneath all her makeup. “I’m… um… I think you’re right. Maybe I am racist and don’t want to admit it. I… I think you’re really creepy, with the way you read people like that, and I… I am failing Monster Studies without Cam’s help. And I wanted to know about monsters so that I could tell everyone at track and they would think that I know more than they do and… and I’m sorry.”

You looked down at the slightly soggy cup and wondered.

“Um… how did you do that?” Abby asked after a long wait in your silence. “You know, pick up on all that. On what I was… actually wanting?”

You swirled the cup and, finally making up your mind, pulled Pap’s scarf from your face so that you could take a sip. Quietly, you said, “Because I listened. You don’t speak with just words, you know.”

Abby laughed nervously. “I think that’s probably the first time someone listened to me so closely.”

You shrugged and turned to walk away. Abby reached out and grabbed your arm, her manicured nails slipping through the tears in your sleeve to scrape against your skin, and asked, “Do you want to get together for lunch? Just lunch. I won’t ask about monster stuff or tutoring and you can tell me about your morning and I’ll… I’ll try to listen to you like you did for me.”

She frowned at your hesitation, but you gave her a small smile anyways. It was hard to miss the sincerity in that invitation.

“Sure. Noon okay with you?”

~~~

“-and then she just takes my brand new jeans, like I’d never notice, and parades around in them even though they’re like, two sizes too small!” Abby complained to you, loudly, about her current roommate in the dorms. You nodded patiently, quietly chewed your burger, and leaned to the side to avoid a piece of lettuce as it came flying off Abby’s fork. “So what do you think about that, sweetie?”

You slowly set your burger down and wiped the grease from your fingers with your discolored napkin. Ever since lunch started, and you cut your explanation of your bad mood short (how could you even begin to explain how you felt without explaining everything Sans worried over? that wasn’t your story to tell others.) Abby had started telling you about other people in her life in the hopes that you would tell her more than she had already picked up on.

Even though you were studying psychology to help people, and you had told her that much as you got to know each other, you did not think she would interpret it this way.

“I don’t know,” you sighed and took a long drink of your sugary soda, “maybe she’s secretly a little envious of how you look? Not everyone can have a body like they just walked off a fitness magazine.”

“But I  _ told her _ ,” Abby angrily stabbed at her salad, “if she just stops eating so much fast food and works out more than ten minutes a month she’ll lose the freshman fifteen! We’re seniors already, she has no excuse to keep it. So I offered, like a good person, to get her a tryout for my track team, but she says she hates running. Cardio is good for your heart and legs! It’s not  _ my _ fault she doesn’t want to run and trim down those thighs! So how do you think I can get her to stop stealing my jeans? They’re designer brands and they’re expensive!”

“...stop buying designer jeans?” You giggled at the look of horror on Abby’s face. She launched into another rant, about how her choices in fashion shouldn’t change because of thieves, and you quietly listened.

It was almost annoying, at first, to listen to Abby. She was definitely a bit self centered, a bit conceited, and she seemed like the type that had to feel she was the best looking in the room at all times. But it was nice, you realized, to listen to such mundane problems. Stolen jeans and the stubborn freshman fifteen and who flirted with who all seemed so trivial to you, but it was a welcome change to all the things you had been dealing with since you moved to Lane 66.

It made you feel like you had one of your old high school friends back. It made you feel like a normal human with normal problems.

“-and speaking of fashion!” Abby let her fork fall into her half finished salad and fixed her attention to you. “I’ve noticed that you’ve stopped wearing those sweater dresses! It’s about time, sweetie, you’re too young to be dressing like you’re a 40 year old hobo. I like this shirt dress of yours so much more. It just screams ‘serious business lady who tries to have fun’ to me.”

“Um, thank you?” You took another bite of your burger and brushed off Abby’s backhanded compliment. Her intent was good, she didn’t seem to try and say things like that, but all of her kind words so far had carried that bit of sting.

“And I really hope you don’t eat that every day, sweetie.” Abby pointed towards your burger, a look of disgust crossing her face as it dripped grease onto your paper plate. “I understand you need red meat right now, with your cycle and all, but the cholesterol from those things is  _ awful _ .”

“Don’t worry about what I eat, Abby,” you laughed and offered her fries, to which she refused. “I’m healthy enough. I make sure that Pap includes fruits and vegetables when we cook together and doesn’t stick to just pasta.”

“Oooo, who’s that? This Pap?” Abby asked, her eyes bright with curiosity. You understood why; you had been careful to avoid the subject of monsters since you both sat down. Since that included your housemates, you brushed off her inquiries about where you lived and anything else that had to do with your life. Abby was a gossip, so you knew it drove her nuts that she didn’t know anything more about you than your class schedule and what you wore.

“He’s my housemate.” You said evasively, but Abby latched onto it.

“He? You live with a boy?”

“Yeah, he-”

Abby squealed, “Are you like, an item or something?”

Your face flushed with heat and you took another bite of your burger to avoid answering right away. You were not ashamed of the feelings you had for any of the brothers, but you wondered how wise it would be to tell Abby anything, considering her love of gossip. People were hesitant about the idea of monsters living on the surface. There were people like Cam, who were even willing to become violent about it after a certain point. It didn’t seem like a good idea to parade the fact that you were in a relationship with a monster, not to mention many of them. Polyamory was also frowned upon in most human culture.

“Not really,” you lied, once you swallowed the bite. That wasn’t anyone’s business besides yours and Pap’s. “We just-.”

“ _ Bullshit. _ ” Abby cut you off with a point of her fork. A piece of lettuce flew off and hit you in the nose. “You’re good at reading people sweetie, I’ll give you that, but you can’t look me in the eye with that red face of yours and tell me there’s nothing there.”

“Alright, fine.” You snapped. It couldn’t hurt to talk about it vaguely, as long as you never mentioned he was a monster or how far you had gone. “Yes, we like each other. But we haven’t really gone that far. Our first date is supposed to be this weekend and he wants to do it right.”

“I think that's sweet. Not many guys know how to be romantic these days.” Abby leaned forward, to better hear you over the clamor of the cafeteria. “So, what’re you doing? Is he taking you out to someplace fancy?”

“N-no, we’re just going to cook together and probably watch a movie at home…”

“Chefs are always a great catch.” Abby nodded approvingly. “Assuming he’s a good one, of course?”

“Yeah, Pap’s a great chef!” You sighed, thankful that she wasn’t pressing for anything more. “He’s improved a lot since I bought him a cookbook and he’s great at improvising. Since he cooks, I’ve been eating vegetarian and I never even knew I wasn’t eating meat-”

“Wait, is  _ that _ why you’ve been eating this garbage?” Abby pointed towards your burger. “Sweetie, it’s cute that he’s vegetarian and you’ve been eating that way with him, but you need to have protein during your cycle! Please tell me you’ve been taking supplements, do you have any idea how many vitamins you miss out on when you eat just plants?”

“Um…”

“I’m giving you my phone number.” Abby rolled her eyes and held out her hand expectantly for your phone. “If this Pap guy won’t cook meat for you, then I’ll send a list of all the things you need in your diet to make up for it. Supplements, for one. Your daily nutritional intake will change if you don’t want to become anemic or have any other health problems.”

“I thought being a vegetarian was healthy?” You handed over your unlocked phone and watched Abby punch in her number. You didn’t want to ask Pap to cook meat, not if it made him or any of the other brothers uncomfortable, but you remembered that Red said he would try it. Maybe if you just asked?

“It is, if you do it the right way.” Abby sighed and gave your phone back to you. “I’ve seen a lot of unhealthy vegetarians, too, because they don’t think about what they’re missing when they cut out meat. They think they can just replace it with like, cheese or something. I respect your boyfriend’s choice, but we evolved to eat plants and meat, sweetie, we can’t just lose half of our diet and not suffer. If you send me a list of what he usually eats, I can take a look at it and recommend some supplements for him, too.”

You gave Abby a broad smile. “Thanks. For doing this, I mean. I didn’t ask you to.”

“I’m not a terrible person.” Abby picked at her salad and avoided your gaze. “I know you probably think that, with how I was back then and then earlier with my terrible try at apologizing, and I wanted to show you that I’m not. And you haven’t told me I’m annoying or to shut up yet so… I like you.”

“Well, I guess I like you too.” You giggled as you stared poking at your phone and accidentally smeared burger grease on the screen. “If you want, I could give you a little help with our class. I don’t have a lot of free time, but we could meet a few times during the week during lunch to study.”

Abby thanked you and, in her boundless curiosity, asked about what you were doing on your phone. As you typed up a message, you told her without really thinking, “I’m trying to email Sans to ask about dinner. I was thinking, if Pap’s up for it, we could try cooking chicken tonight for the rest of the house. I just need to know if any of them would get uncomfortable at the thought of eating meat.”

“Oooo who’s Sans?” Abby smiled and you felt yourself pale slightly. “Is he a chef, too?”

“Uh…” you trailed off, not knowing how to respond. You had been trying to avoid questions about the house. But what was a little more? You hadn’t said anything you really shouldn’t and, if you were going to be friends with Abby, she was bound to learn about some things about your life. “No, Sans is Pap’s brother, but I’ve never seen him cook before. He lives in the house, too.”

“A house? Where do you live that you can afford rent with just the three of you?” Abby squealed with excitement, “Wait! Why don’t we just go over after classes are done and you can show me? You can introduce me to Pap and Sans! Then we can hang out and we can cram together and-”

You froze up as Abby went on about what you could do together with your housemates. A meeting with a monster was something you had wanted to do to help your petition, but you had wanted that to be for multiple people, on campus, not just a singular person.

Not to mention, Abby didn’t know that Pap and Sans were monsters. She didn’t know about any of the other brothers and you didn’t want to think about what would happen if you showed up, unannounced, at the house with another human.

“I’d have to talk to them,” you slipped your phone back into the pocket of your leather jacket and crumpled up your greasy burger wrapper to throw away. “I can’t just bring someone home without asking, it’s rude.”

~~~

“...Abby, huh?”

“Yeah,” you nodded and trudged up the slippery road with Axe, who was soaked head to bony toe with water. It was easy to guess that he had been outside all day and you appreciated that he had waited so long for you to return to the bus stop. 

You couldn’t tell him how much it meant to see him come out of the woods, his red eye light bright as the taxi rolled out of sight, so you just dropped your bag and rushed him. He seemed happy to hold you quietly, but when you started crying… that’s when he asked what happened. 

So you told him. You told him how your morning started great. Then how heavy you felt as you thought more about your workload and how it was overwhelming you as you got stuck in spirals inside your head; about how stressed you were starting to feel knowing you didn’t have a solution to help increase the abysmal amount of signatures you managed to collect for your petition, and your added anxiety about this new person since you didn’t know if they were a friend who could be trusted. You didn’t tell him anything about the dread you had from the thought of the resets or the fear you had about the looming war.

“...that’s a lot.” Axe nodded thoughtfully as he held your hand during your walk. “...but you’ll have us… no matter what happens… right? …if you’re that… worried ask… Mutt or Milord. ...they’re both clever and… want to help you. ...or Sans. ...he might not be… your beta but… he knows a lot… of different things.”

“...would you be upset if he was?” you asked quietly, knowing you had to ask at some point and feeling like nothing could happen to make your day since you left home worse. Axe turned his skull to look at you out of the corner of his socket. “I know you want me to mark Butch, and I will when the time is right, but… Sans showed me he’s interested, too. I told him I had to talk to all of you first.”

Axe shrugged, but stayed quiet for quite some time. He didn’t let go of your hand, he still matched your pace as you walked through the slush, and you let him think.

“...I’m okay with it…” Axe said slowly. “...and I like that… you’re asking us… but you’re stressed. ...are you sure you… can handle another beta… when you’re like this?”

“I’m not going to do it when I’m like this.” You gave his hand a squeeze and felt a wave of relief when he squeezed back. Some of that heavy feeling was chased away with that small gesture. “You know, Abby might be right. Maybe I’m going to have my post-heat soon. It would help explain why I’m so easily worked up these past few days or depressed today, even though I’ve been handling things alright so far. It would also explain why I wanted chocolate for breakfast and part of why I had cramps today…”

Axe tugged on your hand to get you to stop. “...do you… want me to... take care of you?”

“You do take care of me,” you smiled as he pulled you in for another hug. “I really appreciate you listening to me and holding me and letting me vent, I feel better.”

“...not what I… meant.” Axe smirked and brought up one of his hands to your face. You turned pink at the sight of his wiggling fingers. “...you’ll feel better… once you… let go of that stress.”

“N-not now.” you stuttered, your pink color flushing to red. “I don’t want to do that out here in the open and I, um, I was hoping to save that for when I had more time alone with you.”

Axe tilted his skull, his red light flickering with confusion. To show him what you meant, you pulled at his threadbare t-shirt to expose his collarbone.

“See? You’re mark’s almost gone, just like Mutt’s. I wanted to remark you both before it fades but I also… wanted to do something else for you.” you turned your face away, embarrassed, as Axe grinned up at you.

“...you’re really…” Axe’s hand came up to touch your cheek and his red eye light glowed brightly, “...that happy with me, Willow?”

“Of course I am! What kind of question is that?” You felt a tightness in your chest. There was just another example of things you didn’t know about being an alpha. What would have happened if you hadn’t noticed Mutt’s mark fading and didn’t realize they needed to be redone soon? Would they have understood or thought you didn’t want to be with them anymore? “Axe, I’m sorry, I didn’t know how often it needed to be redone or I would’ve done something about it sooner. I love you so much and I want us to be togeth-”

Your anxious words were lost when Axe pressed his teeth to your lips. He held himself against you, his wet clothes soaking yours, and his hands slipped beneath your backpack to gently claw at your back. Wanting, and needing, the comfort, you sighed as his red tongue tangled with yours and you closed your eyes to get lost in the taste of iron…

As Axe moved to your neck, peppering your cheek with gentle nips along the way, he whispered in your ear, “...I want it now. ...the remark.”

“B-but, I wanted it to be special,” you breathed as he bit at your soft spot. Despite the fact that his clothes had soaked yours, and you should feel cold as the sun set, the heat he made you feel kept you warm against the chill air. “If we wait until later I could show you what I want to do with you.”

Axe nuzzled the side of your head and drew back to look at you with his hazy light. “...I can wait… for that. ...I don’t want… your mark to fade.”

You nodded and Axe pulled his t-shirt down to give you access to his collarbone. It was easy to agree with him. Axe had never asked for anything from you. He didn’t ask for you to take care of him, or to spend time with him. The closest he came to asking was when he asked if he could talk to Butch about pack stuff. But he gave so much. He listened to you and cared for you, protected you and comforted you.

So when you took his collarbone between your teeth you bit down as hard as you could.

You knew he would get excited, that his red eye light would haze and his touch would get just ever so slightly aggressive as it pulled at your dress to try and touch you through the fabric, but you weren’t expecting him to push you to the wet road and climb on top of you right there, in the middle of the path.

“Axe!” You hissed his name as you gritted your teeth to keep from crying out in pain. Your back did not like being slammed against a bag of books. “Settle down!”

“...sorry, Willow.” Axe flushed red with embarrassment and gently helped you back to your feet. “...I knew I would… get like that, but… I didn’t mean to… push you.”

“I know,” you ignored the twinge in your back so that the flicker of worry in Axe’s eye didn’t get any worse. He had already hurt you once before, he had scratched you on accident when you stopped him from attacking Edge, and you didn’t want him to feel like he hurt you again. “Let’s just go home. I’m already late as it is, I don’t want the others to worry.”

“...Milord told us… you’d be late.” Axe hesitated, then took your hand again as you resumed walking. You could see his shoulders sag in relief when you didn’t shake him off. “...and I know… you’re stressed, but… you should talk… to Mutt.”

“Is he okay?”

“...he’s… as Butch said it… salty.” Axe turned his head towards you, his usual vacant grin once more on his skull. “...Butch won… the tournament.”

“Mutt’s a sore loser, huh?”

“...he just wants… more time with you.” Axe shrugged, “...he’s been... sulking all day. ...since Milord told us… you would be late... all week and… you’ve been busy… studying.”

“You guys do know that my door is open to you?” You asked as you and Axe turned up the drive for Lane 66.

“...yes.” Axe shrugged. “...but we know… how important school is… to you. ...we don’t want… to bother you.”

“You’re not bothering me,” you huffed. “And if you are, I’ll let you know. If you push past that, then I’ll kick you out. So don’t think you guys can’t come see me.”

Axe grinned at you and opened the front door so you could get inside the bright, warm entryway and out of the growing darkness. “...tell him that.”

“Where are you going?” You dropped your book bag to the floor with a dull thunk and turned to watch Axe climb the wide oak steps.

“...Butch.” Axe said simply, his grin turning mischievous. “...he’s convinced that… he shouldn’t see you tonight. ...I’m going to… talk him into it.”

You wished Axe luck and bent to pull off your boots. You could hear the clink of pots drifting down the hall as Pap cooked in the kitchen along with Sans’ melodic laughter. To your surprise, you could also hear the tv in the living room as it shouted ‘game!’

You got up and peaked your head around the corner. Mutt was sitting on the floor, a controller in his bony hands, as he selected a new map to play on Super Smash Bros. He hadn’t turned his skull to look at you, and you could see his glowing, burnt orange tongue dart between his sharp teeth to lick at his golden tooth as he tried to beat the NPCs.

Stepping quietly across the wooden floor, you sneaked up behind him. Or at least you hoped you did. If he could hear your soul, he should already know you’re there.

“Having fun?” you whispered as you snaked your arms around his shoulders. Mutt yelped in surprise and fell sideways to the floor, taking you with him. You laughed as his skull flushed burnt orange with embarrassment and hugged him. “Seriously? How the hell did I manage to sneak up on you?”

“I was concentrating on the tv…” Mutt grumbled, his flush deepening, but he still hugged you back and nuzzled the side of your head in greeting. “When did you get back?”

“Just now. Axe and I were talking in the entryway. Were you seriously so absorbed in Smash that you didn’t notice us?”

You felt Mutt’s ribs vibrate as he growled and pushed the two of you up off the floor. He jabbed at the controller, to pause the game, and pulled you into his lap so that he could rest his skull on top of your head. “Did Axe tell you he’s a dirty cheater?”

“No? If you’re talking about your guys’ tournament, he told me that Butch won. So how-?”

“I should’ve won.” Mutt grumbled and started to run his fingers through your hair. “Butch is good, I’ll give him that, but during the last match of the tournament my controller stopped working before I could knock his character off screen. It was working just fine before that. You and I both know how persistent Axe is about getting you and Butch together, so I know he used magic to snap something inside the controller to let Butch win.”

“I don’t think he’s that sly.” You said gently and took Mutt’s hand in yours. His irritation was apparent in his raspy voice, in the tension you felt as you leaned against him, so you started to slowly massage the joints of his fingers in the hopes you could get him to relax. “You know Axe is too straightforward to try anything so underhanded. I told you I got those controllers second hand, it probably was already almost broken by the time you picked it up.”

“Hmm, maybe.” Mutt hummed, his red eye lights watching your hands work over his fingers. The other hand wrapped around your waist as he sighed and leaned into you. “I know you wanted me to let him win, when you told me that he could use more confidence. I just… got jealous, I guess. Are you mad?”

“Why would I be mad?” 

“I um, threw Axe in a puddle after the tournament.” Mutt flushed burnt orange again and looked away. “I called him out on cheating and when he denied it I tossed him into the mud. Didn’t he tell you?”

Your hands paused. “No. Did you really think he was lying about the controller?” Mutt shook his skull, still avoiding your gaze. You went back to your hand massage. “Then you know what you need to do. Apologize for throwing him.”

“If you keep doing that thing with my hand, I’ll bake the little weirdo a cake.” Mutt sighed against you as you took his other hand and started to work that one instead. “I don’t know why you’re rewarding me when I broke your ‘get along’ rule, but I’m not complaining.”

“You should try to be nicer to Axe.” You grinned at the thought of Mutt trying to bake. Affection bubbled up in your chest as you finally started to relax, too. Axe letting you vent, Mutt just sitting here with you… it felt so nice to be home with the ones you loved. “He’s the reason I’m doing this. He told me you were feeling a little lonely.”

“He did, huh?”

You nodded your head. “I understand if you’re feeling a little cooped up. I know I’m gone a lot during the week, but if you gave me your phone number we could talk while I’m away. I’ve been meaning to get your guys’ contact information anyways. It would be nice to talk to you more, even if it is just a phone call when I have lunch.”

Mutt hummed in response and stared at the wall. You looked up, unsure if he was still upset about the tournament results, and noticed that his sharp teeth had turned up in a lazy grin and his red eye lights had become slightly hazy. A grin tugged at your cheeks as you remembered that same look on the side of Milord’s skull when you had rubbed his back.

“There’s something else I’ve been meaning to do,” you said quietly, your thumbs rubbing the set of bones that made up Mutt’s square palm. “But it’s your choice on what happens. Your mark is fading, right?”

“Mmhm.” Mutt’s skull lolled off the top of your head and onto your shoulder.

“If you like, I can remark it now, but that also means we can’t really fool around since I don’t want some to walk in on us. Or, if you can wait a day or two, I’ll make it special for you.”

“Uh huh.”

“Mutt?”

“Yeah.”

“What would you like me to do?”

“What you’re doing now.”

You grinned and stopped the hand massage. Mutt sighed and turned his skull to look at you. “Come on, Robin, keep going. I like it.”

“Answer my question and I will. Do you want me to renew your mark now, or later?”

The haze in Mutt’s lights slowly sharpened as he realized what you were asking. “Wait, really?”

“Yes, really. I love you and want to be with you always, don’t you know that?” Your grin widened into a smile and you kissed his flushed cheekbone. “And shame on you for not telling me that it was fading. Maybe you wanted me to notice on my own, but you know I would’ve felt terrible if I would’ve found out after it was gone.”

“Later, then.” Mutt’s eye lights glowed with affection and he returned to running his fingers through your hair. “I know how fired up I’ll get with a remark and my bros have been up and about all day. Pap’s cooking, Axe has been following Red around trying to steal his headphones when he sneaks food from your cupboard, and Sans has been cleaning. Weird as that sounds…”

You reached up to pick at the yellow fur on Mutt’s black hoodie. Since you had already asked Milord and Axe, there was no point and putting it off with Mutt. You asked him about Sans the same way you had asked Axe. If he would mind the thought of Sans being a beta, too, since he had expressed interest. Mutt’s hand stilled in your hair, then came to rest in your lap.

“If that’s what you want.” Mutt shrugged and twirled a lock of your hair around his finger. “I never really cared about who else you wanted to mark. That’s your call as alpha, remember? The only one that would’ve upset me was Milord and we’ve already figured that out, but if they make you happy that’s all that matters to me.” You leaned into Mutt, letting your gratitude fill you, and Mutt rested his skull on the top of your head again. “So when are you going to ask the others? Are we having another pack meeting after dinner?”

“I’ve, um, already asked them.” You said sheepishly. “Milord and I have coffee almost every morning together, so I asked him earlier today, and Axe likes to meet me after I get off the bus to walk me home after school so I asked him before we got back.”

“Really.” Mutt said flatly. You couldn’t see his eye lights, but you could feel the tension return to his skeleton. Very quickly, you realized what you said wrong. Mutt was already feeling like he didn’t have enough time with you and you had just announced that you gave almost daily time to the others. He was getting better at managing his jealousy, but something like that was sure to irritate him.

“Mutt, I’m sorry, I want to spend more time with you.” you said quickly, “I really do. What if we-”

“Do you need your phone for awhile?”

“I-I guess not.” You watched, anxiously, as Mutt let you gently rest on the floor and stood up. His raspy voice was nowhere near a growl and there was a deliberate clarity to the glow of his eye lights. Was he upset or determined?

“Where is it?”

“My jacket... Mutt, are you mad?”

“Nope, not mad,” Mutt kissed the top of your head and his fingers gently brushed against your cheek, “but I’m not going to let those two have you to themselves. Don’t worry, Robin. If I start now, I’ll be done before dinner’s ready.”

He made a beeline for the hook your jacket hung on near the front door. He fished around in the pockets, pulled out your phone, and vanished in the blink of an eye. You stared at the spot he had just been in confusion, the smell of clove slowly reaching you, and wondered what on Earth he planned on doing with it. He left in such a rush, he had even forgotten to turn off the Playbox.

You looked down the entrance hall as you picked your heavy backpack off the floor, wondering if you should go down to the basement to check on him. He had said he wasn’t mad, but skeletons weren’t as easy to read as people. Or maybe you were overthinking it because you didn’t want him to leave you so quickly.

You shouldered your bag and headed back to your room to drop it off. Maybe Mutt wanted some time to himself, despite what Axe had told you? But then why ask for your phone? He could have just told you his email or his phone number if he wanted to chat while you were at school. Whatever he was doing, he didn’t take the time to explain or invite you to come with and that made you think he wanted it to be a surprise. 

Feeling sure that Mutt would tell you more over dinner, you let your heavy bag fall to the floor near your bed and collapsed onto the cream colored sheets. You knew you needed to study. But now that you were alone again, you felt that invisible weight slowly start to settle back on your shoulders. A heavy sigh escaped you as you rolled onto your side and stared out of the circular window towards the setting sun.

It was hard to get the motivation to pick up a book. Since it was the week before midterms, all your classes were reviewing previous topics. You didn’t have any assignments, just the knowledge of what would be on the test. The distinct lack of a clear end goal was not helping you talk yourself into studying.

A part of you wanted to go find Sans to talk about your worry. But he had just started feeling better himself after who knows how long. You didn’t want to be the one to drag him back down.

Your eyes drifted past your bag and to your pine dresser. You stared at the two cups on top and the green leaves growing from them. Slowly, you dragged yourself off the bed and dug through your backpack for a pen. In your rush, you had forgotten to check on the plants this morning and make notes about your experiment. 

The little bulbs were doing well. They had progressed to the point where you had to keep them in paper cups with water to keep them alive, but they really needed to be put in pots with dirt. You had been putting off this task mainly because of the snow, but the weather was changing. It was only the first day of melt, so the ground was probably still frozen solid, but you knew you had to start looking for a way to transfer them if you wanted them to grow up so you could try to cross breed them.

With your notes done, you refilled the bottoms of the paper cups with a jug of water next to your dresser. One set in particular held your interest. The pair was kept behind your bed, far away from the sunlight in the hope that you could imitate the conditions of the Underground. The cups were bone dry again, like they had been almost every day since green had sprouted, and you frowned at the two young plants. None of the other sets were using water that quickly. You set down the jug of water and got on your knees to feel for a draft from a heat vent. The air around you, as far as you could tell, was still, and you sighed as you stared at the two bulbs. One looked like it was doing alright, it’s thick stalks were straight and dark green, but the other was starting to droop over the side of the cup; its stalk a greenish yellow.

As your gaze drifted towards the other plants, you spotted the bag of chocolate in the corner. It looked so tempting, sitting there and overflowing with your cravings. You got up from the wood floor and wiped the wrinkles out of the bell of your yellow dress. If you couldn’t find the drive to study, then you would find company and something constructive to do.

You grabbed the bag of chocolate and the stacks of rolled up posters that had waited so patiently by the giant, plastic case. You couldn’t carry that, too, so you left it leaning against the wall while you went back down the narrow staircase.

The knocks on Red’s door went unanswered, as you guessed that they would. The crack under his door spilled a bit of light out into the hallway, so you knew he was inside, but it was likely that he just had his headphones on and didn’t hear you.

You pulled a shiny, red, heart shaped box of chocolate from the bag and balanced the posters in the crook of your other arm while you tore the plastic off. You popped one small piece from the heart in your mouth and felt yourself smile slightly from the bright, citrus creme. The rest of the chocolate you slid under Red’s door and you slumped onto the floor while you silently savored your single piece. Hopefully, his sense of smell was as strong as you thought it was.

Just as you were starting to debate on opening another box, a shadow passed over the strip of light beneath the door. The box rattled as it was picked up. Red opened his door, his crimson lights flickering in confusion as he looked between you and the candy in his hand.

“th’ fuck yeh doin’ on the floor?”

“Waiting for you to notice I’m here.” You took the hand Red offered you and let him pull you to your feet. You stuffed the posters into his hands, adding quickly, “I brought you these. I’m sorry I didn’t give them to you right away, but I was hoping I could maybe get another Font lesson from you? I brought that chocolate I promised.”

Red looked at the rolled up posters in his arms, at the massive bag of chocolate you nervously held, and then at you. “...and?”

“Um, and what?” You blinked.

“yeh ain’t here fer just a lesson.” Red beckoned you with a twitched of his bony finger and you followed him into his bare room. He dropped the posters at the foot of his mattress and turned back to you. “why ‘r yeh really here, Dollface? yeh can’t hide that keening in yer soul from me.”

You bit your lip and looked at the floor. It was impossible to lie to Red, but you couldn’t tell him what you were actually worried about. You couldn’t explain the dread that kept coming back when you were alone without explaining the resets. So, you said honestly, “I just… really don’t want to be alone right now.”

“oh.” Red ran his hand over the top of his skull, to hide the small crimson flush on his nasal ridge, and shifted his weight over his untied sneakers. “sure, um…”

“I don’t really want to talk about it,” you said, noticing his discomfort. “I just want to be around someone. I figured we could just hang out, eat chocolate, and if you wanted, you could help me with Font.”

“yer not upset cuz of one of my dumbass bros, are yeh?” Red growled, his eye lights flashing with malice.

“N-no,” you shook your head quickly. “I just… I just want some comfort. That’s all.”

Red’s shoulders sagged with relief at your words. He sat on his mattress and patted the black sheets to invite to sit with him “yeah, alright. but yer not gonna wanna practice Font if yeh don’ wanna speak yer mind. yeh ain’t got the skill yet teh keep stuff teh yerself.”

You nodded and picked another box of chocolate from the bag. You slowly turned the shiny, red cardboard over in your hands. Suddenly, eating sweets until your stomach hurt didn’t seem as appealing as it did ten minutes ago.

Red’s lights carefully watched your movements. He opened his teeth to say something, thought better of it, and growled obscenities under his breath as he tossed his box of chocolate to the floor. “dammit, Dollface, why do yeh gotta be so fuckin’ difficult? come ‘ere.”

He scooted back on the mattress until his back was against the wall and pulled you across the black sheets so you could lay between his legs with your shoulders against his rib cage. He took his headphones out from around his neck and stuffed them over your ears.

You turned your head to give him an inquisitive look while he pulled the cd player from the pockets of his black hoodie. Remembering how loud Red liked to listen to music, you quickly removed the speakers from your ears and put them around your neck.

“it’ll make yeh feel better.” Red growled gently as you turned the headphones so that the strap for the headband laid on the front of your neck. That way, you reasoned to yourself, the speakers were between you both and you both could listen.

“I’d rather listen with you instead of by myself.” You gave Red a soft smile, which he returned as he hit the play button. The speakers emitted a wailing guitar note as Avenged Sevenfold played behind your ears.

The two of you fell silent as you listened to song after song through the headphones. You noticed Red’s hands twitched by his side every now and then. Eventually, you figured out why as he finally laid one of his arms across your stomach and gently held you.

“yeh know I ain’t th’ best at this.” Red’s voice growled softly in your ear. “this comfort shit. why’d yeh come teh me?”

Your hands fiddled with the black sleeve of his hoodie while you thought. It was the same reason you wanted to vent to Axe when you saw him earlier. “Because you don’t ask too many questions. I know I’ll feel better after a while, I just can’t really explain what’s going on in my head. I mean, I can, but I don’t want to.”

“fair enough.” You felt Red shrug. His other hand came up and started to slowly trace the length of the strap for the headphones over your neck. “that’s why I like this, the music, so much. it don’ ask questions either ‘n makes me feel good.”

“Because of resonance, right?” You turned your head to glance at Red and he moved his skull to hide the crimson color on his face.

“nah, I told yeh that yeh can’t get that from a recordin’.” Red gently turned your face so that you were staring at the wall before his fingers went back to tracing the length of the strap on your neck. “it jus’... eh, helps me let out all that pent up shit I got. ‘s why I thought it’d be good fer yeh.”

“What did you do before to manage?”

“ain’t it obvious?” Red’s hand fell from the strap to join the other around resting over your stomach. His voice was a low, simmering growl, “I picked fights, Dollface. I had it under better control in th’ Underground, but I also had tons of morons who deserved teh get their fuckin’ heads knocked together fer pissin’ me off.”

You slipped your hand under Red’s and gently tangled your fingers together. “What about when you moved up here? To the surface?”

You felt Red’s ribs vibrate as he growled angrily. “that wasn’ exactly my choice, Dollface. I was… nevermind. yeh don’t need teh know that.”

Red’s hand squeezed yours and you stared at the contact. Milord had warned you about Red. He had told you that Red was a hardened criminal like… “Are you like Mutt? Did you get in trouble and now you… aren’t supposed to exist?”

“nah, nothin’ like that.” Red sighed and you heard the heavy, growling rock and roll that stretched out his silence. “look, Dollface, yeh got shit yeh don’ wanna talk about, ‘n so do I. jus’ know that Queen Scotch ain’t as big a bitch as Cinn is ‘n I didn’ get off as bad as Mutt.”

You ran your thumb over the back of Red’s hand as you quietly sought out a change in subject. “So, what do you like to do? I know you like music, but when I first saw your room it was almost empty. You spend so much time in here, what do you do to occupy yourself?”

Red gave a short, rough bark of laughter. “trainin’, if yeh can call it that. it’s jus’ usin’ my magic to get better at controllin’ it. I ain’t ever gonna be able to have more of it no matter what I do, but usin’ it let’s me become more efficient.”

“Why would you want to do that?”

“...what else is there teh do?” Red said quietly and you heard a soft thump as he leaned his skull against the wall.

Silence settled again and you quietly listened to the song change. A guitar strummed solemnly as the singer’s voice lamented through the speakers. 

“Hey, Red?” you asked quietly. Red squeezed your hand, to show you he had heard, and you turned your head to look at his skull. His sockets were closed. “Music makes you happy, so that must be true for other monsters, right?”

“‘s right.”

“And you told me once that it was banned in the Underground. Except for what Mettaton makes. Why would the Queens ban music if it makes their subjects happy?”

Red’s sockets cracked open and his soft, crimson lights found your gaze. “resonance. sure, it doesn’ work through recordin’s but we don’ have a lot a ways of doin’ that down there. most music is live. ‘n yeh know what resonance does. it makes us feel what we want, what we’re missin. th’ Queens want us under their total control, Dollface. if yeh get a room fulla monsters that secretly want to rebel, then give ‘em music that stirs ‘em up, yer gonna have riots.”

You quietly listened to the music between you as you thought. Sans, when he had told you about Wings, had also mentioned a civil war in the Underground. If monsters were unhappy, and they would be if they were trapped and wanted out, it made sense that the Queens would ban something that would bring out those feelings and cause them to fight again. But there was one thing that didn’t make sense.

“Does Mettaton not give live performances?” 

“fuckin’ wish he didn’.” Red growled. “that dumbass bucket a bolts is annoying as hell an’ listenin’ teh him pisses me off.”

“But then why doesn’t his music do that for you? Resonate?”

“he ain’t a normal monster, Dollface. Mettaton was built ‘n then given an artificial soul. he wasn’ born with one. the way he makes intent is different than me or Edge or anyone else. th’ tin can sings about nothin’ but himself ‘n if yeh listen teh his music it only resonates when all yeh think about is yerself.”

Red pulled you up so that he could lean his skull against the side of your face. Or maybe it was to hear the music better.

“no more questions. talkin’ about that fuckin’ pop star is startin’ teh piss me off.” Red’s hand came up again to slowly trace the strap across your neck. You felt his skull warm against your cheek and wondered just how upset he was. He had asked for no more questions, and you knew that music would calm him, so you just let it play.

The song changed and the speeding drums filled the almost non-existent space between you. You were happy to just sit there and let your thumb drift over the back of Red’s hand as he held you. It might’ve not seemed like much, but these were the moments that you wanted most. Your chest warmed with affection as you fully realized that these small things were the things you needed to fight for against the resets. The reasons you couldn’t give up no matter if you were facing something that seemed impossible to overcome.

Red’s hand squeezed your side as he, no doubt, heard your shift in mood from the sound in your soul. You felt his cheekbone shift as he smirked against your cheek.

“...knew this would help.” Red’s rough voice whispered softly in your ear while he tapped the strap of the headphones. You caught his hand and turned slightly to face him.

“You helped a lot too, you know,” you said just as quietly. A smile tugged at your cheeks as his nasal ridge flushed crimson.

“I-I ain’t done nothin’.” Red tried to lean away, but the wall behind him stopped him cold. His crimson lights darted towards the strap still hanging around your neck and his flush deepened. 

“So… you don’t want to kiss me?” you asked with a small giggle. His hands weren’t touching you anymore, but they were hovering close and his fingers twitched. “Because your body language is telling me that you do.”

“I… uh,” Red looked away and to the floor. “I don’t wanna hurt yeh.”

“Then be gentle with me,” you whispered as you shifted until you were sitting on Red. He hesitated beneath you, his eye lights once more returning to the headphones hanging around your neck. He tugged on the cord, taking out the slack until the strap was flush to your skin, and he shivered as his crimson lights relaxed into a haze.

Curious, you started to ask what he was doing with the headphones, but before you could his hand was cupping the back of your head and pulling you against him. Unlike the first time you had kissed him, you weren’t afraid of tasting smoke. You gladly parted your lips against his kiss and let his tongue wrestle around yours to fill your mouth with the taste of mesquite. One of his hands drifted down your side, to slide around your waist and hold you at the small of your back. There was a small pressure on your neck as Red tugged at the cord again, shivered, and grabbed at your hips as he shifted his own beneath you.

“Red,” you asked quietly, breaking the kiss to grab his hand before he could pull the cord from the headphones, “What are you doing?”

Red’s entire skull flushed crimson as the haze slowly started to leave his eye lights. “…nuthin’.”

“If you’re trying to keep yourself from hurting me by pulling on the cord, don’t think that breaking your headphones instead is going to make either of us happy. It’s okay if you’re a little rough as long as you stay mindful.”

“I ain’t…” Red glanced towards his closet and then back to you. “I, um…” Red shifted you back onto his knees and ran a hand over his skull as he grew increasingly flustered. “see, I… I wanted to… but I wasn’t sure…”

You tilted your head as he gritted his fangs and his golden tooth flashed in the light.

“look, I wanted to give yeh somethin’, alright!” Red snapped, despite the color still on his skull, and avoided your gaze. “but I didn’ know if... yer intent was really confusin’ and… fuckin’ hell!”

“Red, it’s okay.” You put your hand on his shoulder to try calming him as he bristled with frustration. Whatever he was trying to tell you, or give you, it obviously wasn’t easy for him. “You don’t have to give me anything. I’m happy with just us hanging out, remember?”

“y-yeah, but-”

A knock at the door made you both jump. Red jumped enough that you actually rolled off him, onto the wood floor, as he leapt to his feet. His stance made it clear he was ready for a fight.

“FUCKIN’ WHAT?!” Red roared at the door, his skull still flushed a brilliant crimson.

“...dinner.” Butch’s soft voice announced. From your spot on the floor, you could see the shadow beneath the door move as Butch moved to the next room.

“Look, Red,” you jumped to your feet as Red reached for the closest thing - the bag of chocolate - and grabbed the sleeves over his forearms to keep him from throwing something. “If you want to give me something, then I’d be happy to have it no matter what it is.”

His crimson lights found your gaze and you watched as they softened.

“jus’ forget about it.” Red sighed. “it ain’t important.”

“But it’s important to you so-” you stopped short and turned your ear towards the voices outside of Red’s door. A sharp, angry voice could be heard just beyond the wood along with something that sounded like a whimper. You glanced at Red. The way his eye lights shrank told you that he heard it, too.

The two of you rushed to the door and burst out into the hallway. There, just outside the door, towered Edge. He had his back to you and was because he was too busy holding onto Butch’s arm to notice you come out of Red’s room.

“-PATHETIC, LETTING YOURSELF STAY LIKE THIS! IT WON’T EVEN HURT THAT MUCH, NOT COMPARED TO HOW IT WILL BE IF YOU DON’T CONTROL YOURSELF AND LEARN HOW TO FIGHT!”

“I said… no!” Butch tugged at his arm, fruitlessly trying to break Edge’s steel grip.

“SO YOU WOULD RATHER BE WEAK? YOU WOULD RATHER BE VULNERABLE AND HELPLESSLY RELIANT ON THOSE AROUND YOU?” Edge tugged back and Butch stumbled towards him. 

“Edge, stop it!” You snapped. Edge paused, his skull turning so he could glare at you over his shoulder. Butch’s white lights shrank to pin pricks when he saw you and he started twisting and turning in Edge’s grip; desperate to get away.

“LOOK AT YOU.” Edge sneered, turning back to watch Butch’s struggle while he ignored you. “YOU CAN’T EVEN TELEPORT ON COMMAND ANYMORE, CAN YOU?”

“leave me alone…!” Butch braced one of his feet on Edge’s leg to try and push himself free. His pin sized white lights darted between you and Edge.

“THAT WAS THE ONE THING YOU WERE ALWAYS GOOD AT, RUNNING AWAY, AND NOW YOU’VE LOST EVEN THAT.”

Golden plasma was starting to well up in the corners of Butch’s sockets. You barely heard his soft voice whisper, “get away… from me. ...I hate you!”

Edge tensed and he pulled at Butch’s arm again, knocking him off his feet. “TOO BAD! THERE’S NO ONE ELSE BUT ME! OR IS THAT WHY YOU’RE DOING THIS? YOU WANT TO BE ALONE? TO BE SO USELESS THAT EVERYONE ABANDONS YOU AND YOUR ONLY PURPOSE IS WHATEVER THE PET GIVES YOU?”

Your blood boiled and your ears started to ring. You clenched your fists and took a step forward, ready to deck Edge. Red’s arm flew up and stopped you. He reached down, took off one of his untied sneakers, and chucked it at Edge’s skull. It bounced, from skull to wall and then out over the banister into the entrance hall.

Edge finally released Butch. Butch, terrified, bolted for his room. Red stepped in front of you protectively as Edge slowly turned on the spot.

“...DID YOU SERIOUSLY,” Edge’s razor sharp voice cut through the black plasma that filled air, “JUST THROW ONE OF YOUR FILTHY SHOES AT MY SKULL?”

“yeah, so I could stick my foot up yer ass!” Red growled, his stance low and ready.

Black plasma started to manifest in Edge’s outstretched hand, saturating the air with the smell of gasoline. Red backpedaled, pushing you away, then shoved you unceremoniously onto the cold tile of your bathroom and slammed the door shut. You heard someone, probably Red, get thrown into the floor. You screamed and hammered on the door, demanding to be let out. 

The smell of smoke and gasoline started to drift up through the crack under the door. You grabbed a hand towel, covered your face, and continued to pound on the door with one of your fists. You didn’t know why you were trying to break out. To stand in the middle of their fight would be suicide. No matter your agreement for a chance with Edge, a part of you knew that he could still kill you. But you also knew Edge and Red’s tempers and you were terrified that they would kill each other.

You took the towel away and howled with all your might, hoping the one person in the house you knew could stop this would appear. “SAAANS!”

A hand touched your shoulder. You turned just in time to catch a glimpse of a blue hoodie before you blinked and it was gone.

There was a lot of shouting, you couldn’t tell who was who because so many voices tried to speak at once. The door you leaned against vibrated from the force exploding on the other side. Then there was another slam, another shudder, and all was still.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Why am I posting so much? Maybe it's because I have a problem. Or maybe it's because I feel like I can't rest until this story gets out. (but definitely partially because escaping into writing helps me deal with my life) 
> 
> Either way you benefit, so... weee! :D
> 
> (also please don't hate Edge too much he's just an angry porcupine who means well)


	24. Ch 22 - Try Something Different

Ch 22 - Try Something Different

You stood for a moment in the silence, paralyzed with thoughts of the worst. Your heart pounded in your ears and your palms, slick with sweat, fumbled against the jammed knob. You weren’t ready for the door to actually open and fell face first into the hall.

The first thing you saw was Red sitting on the floor. He leaned against his door, an angry scowl still on his skull. Pap knelt next to him, his bare, skeletal hand pressed over the right half of Red’s skull. Orange plasma dripped from Pap’s fingers and filled the hall with the smell of brown sugar, but the plasma itself was quickly absorbed by Red’s skull. Pap held out his other hand to Red and your stomach lurched as you watched Red drop his golden fang into Pap’s palm.

You rushed to Red, your breath coming in short, panicked bursts. Pap drew back in surprise as you threw your arms around Red. Seeing the hole in Red’s teeth, the spider webbing cracks over the right half of his skull and one of his sockets missing an eye light, was too much for you. You sat by his side and frantically ran your hands over his face; pulled at his black hoodie as you tried to search him for more injury.

“get off,” Red growled. A crimson flush appeared on his cracked nasal ridge when you tried to pull down his turtleneck to check his ribs. He gently smacked your hand away and his flush deepened at the sound of your soul’s concern.

“DON’T WORRY HONEY,” Pap smiled at you and gently pushed you back so Red could have space. “I CAN HANDLE THIS; RED WILL BE FINE. JUST DON’T STAND TOO CLOSE TO MY MAGIC.”

“he’s right, Dollface.” Red opened his mouth wide so Pap could fit his golden fang back in place. Pap gave Red’s teeth a burst of orange plasma and a wave of brown sugar washed over you. Red’s crimson tongue darted out, tested the sturdiness of his repaired fang, and gave you a cocky smile. “see?” Red said to you as Pap laid his hand over the cracks in his skull, “yeh ain’t gotta worry ‘bout me. I’ve dealt with way worse shit without Pap around. this ain’t nuthin.”

You knelt by Red and reached for him again. Pap stopped you with his free hand and reminded you to stay back. You sat on your feet, your chest tight, and bit your lip. “Oh, Red… How could he do this to you?”

“Thyme!”

Sans rushed out of Edge’s dark room, closely followed by Milord, and tackled you with a hug. You both fell onto Red’s legs, then slid onto the floor at his feet.

“git the fuck off, vanilla!” Red snarled and moved to pounce on Sans. Pap pushed Red back onto the floor, easily holding him down with one hand while he squirmed and tried to kick at Sans. Milord calmly shut Edge’s door, clasped his hands behind his back, and observed the group. His purple eye lights narrowed as they darted between you, Red, and Sans.

“what happened?” Sans asked you, ignoring Red as he swore under his breath and kept trying to get out from under Pap’s hold. Sans touched your face, your arms, and looked over your chest for injury as he leaned out of his embrace. “we heard the fight start and then… then you were screaming for me…”

“I’m fine,” you reassured him and also directed that towards Red, Pap, and Milord with a glance.

“Did Edge attack you?” Milord asked, his voice ice cold, and stepped forward. His narrowed lights now rested solely on Red while he snarled at Sans for drawing you back into his arms. “Or were you caught between a sibling scuffle?”

Red growled and returned Milord’s glare. “he went after me, yeh uptight prick. he was pickin’ on Butch an’ it was upsettin’ her, so I shoved her in th’ bathroom ‘n dealt with th’ bullshit.”

You felt the little color that remained in your face drain away as the sound of Butch’s name. You broke Sans’ hold on you as you scrambled to your feet, tripped past Milord, and ran down the hall.

“Butch!” You knocked frantically on the last door and pressed your ear against it. “Butch, it’s me! Open up. Please! Are you okay?”

Five long seconds passed and Butch didn’t reply. You barged into the room without knocking again. Screw being polite, some things mattered more than manners.

Butch’s room was a whirlwind of golden magic. Butch himself sat on the bed. His legs were drawn up to his chest, his skull between his knees, and his hands on the back of his neck. Plasma flowed from everywhere on him. His hands, his eye sockets, and it even leaked out of the holes from his threadbare clothes. 

The objects that had once adorned the walls and bookshelf - the dozens of pictures, the purple geode, and the wolf skull - all flew around the room on clouds of golden plasma. Everything smelled strongly like the woods; of trees.

The first move you made that touched the magic seemed to jolt Butch like an electric shock. His skull jerked up and his white lights quivered when he saw you.

“n-no… get away!” his soft voice trembled and the floating objects started to move dangerously faster. His white lights followed their path and he scooted back on the bed towards the wall. “L-lily, I can’t… control it! get away before… before I hurt you!”

You crossed the room anyways. You wouldn’t leave after seeing him shake like a leaf inside his tornado of magic. You wouldn’t leave after hearing his fear. You crawled onto the charcoal sheets towards him, even as he tried to get away, and pulled him into you.

As you wrapped your arms around him, you whispered to the side of his skull. “You’d never hurt me, Butch. I’m not going to let you sit here and deal with this alone.”

He shook inside your embrace, but his arms came up to squeeze you tightly as he buried his face in the crook of your neck. Knowing that he was going to let you stay gave you a small amount of relief. Butch wasn’t going to push you away. Red would be healed. Edge… you would deal with those thoughts later.

A small creak sounded behind you and you turned your head just enough to see Sans and Milord standing in the doorway. Their white and purple eyelights shrank as they looked around the room, at the maelstrom of magic and floating objects.

“It’s okay,” you said quietly, both to Butch and to his brothers. Milord and Sans watched you carefully. You shook your head, just the barest amount, to try and silently tell them not to come in. When they didn’t move, you turned back to Butch and rested your cheek against the side of his skull. His ribs quivered beneath his red hoodie as he hyperventilated.

“Deep breaths…” You brought your fingers up to gently trace them over the top of Butch’s skull and you started to softly hum. 

The quiet lullaby slowed his breathing. Out of the corner of your eye, you could see the floating objects drift to a halt and lazily sank to the floor as Butch finally started to calm down. He stopped leaking plasma, and you didn’t stop humming until the golden magic started to dissipate from the room.

“well, what do you know.” Sans’ low voice drifted across the room. With a glance over your shoulder, you saw that he and Milord were still there watching you with a curious gleam in their lights.

You ignored their curiosity and turned back to Butch. His sockets were closed and his breathing was slow as he listened to your song. You shifted slightly, to keep your foot from falling asleep beneath you, and his grip tightened on your sides.

“I’m not leaving,” you softly reassured him. “I want to stay here with you.”

Butch nodded.

“...do you want to tell me what happened?”

His grip tightened again and spoke into your neck. “I… was just telling him… dinner was ready. then he… he came out… of his room and… told me I was… going to train with him. I… said I didn’t want to but... he didn’t care… that I kept saying no. then… he grabbed my arm and… I tried to get away… but…”

“Red and I came?” you offered. Butch nodded.

“why won’t he… leave me alone?” Butch’s soft voice trembled. “I don’t… want to train. I don’t want… to hurt things. why… does he keep… coming after me?”

Your heart clenched painfully. You knew why. Edge was the only one in the house that you knew of besides Butch that had gone through a color change. You knew Edge wanted to help, but he had never told anybody about his change. Red only knew because he lived with Edge in the Underground. You and Sans only found out because of a slip of Edge’s tongue.

The door gently creaked shut behind you. You didn’t have to turn to know that Sans and Milord had left to give you and Butch privacy.

“I know he’s an ass, but Edge does care about you,” you said, gently moving your hand to rub Butch’s back.

“no he’s… doesn’t!” Butch snapped. You paused, surprised to hear the venom in his soft voice. “he always… picks on me! he always reminds me that… I’m weak and… and dependent and…” Butch gritted his teeth and the objects on the floor trembled as he bristled with anger.

“You’re not weak!” you said quickly, worrying what would happen if Butch released his chaotic magic again. “Butch, you’re one of the strongest people I know! After everything you’ve been through, after all of the hardship and terrible things you had to do to survive, you’re still the sweetest, most gentle guy I know. You never let your experiences turn you into a bad person, so don’t listen to Edge when he says those things.”

Butch stilled in your arms, his white lights focusing on your eyes as he listened.

“It’s not a bad thing to be a little dependent, either.” You continued, encouraged by his stillness. “It’s okay to need people, especially the ones you love, to get through things. Being able to open up and trust or let yourself be vulnerable to someone isn’t a weakness. It takes a lot of strength. You and I know this. Don’t you remember how hard it was for us to tell each other about our past? But now we’re both better for it.”

He turned his face back into the crook of your neck and you sat there quietly together. His breath was warm on your skin and you brought your hand back up to trace your fingertips over his skull.

“it’s hard enough…” Butch mumbled against you, “trying to… figure this out, my… new magic, without him… humiliating me. I know that… I don’t know… what I’m doing.”

“Have you tried asking Axe for help?” you asked softly, your mind whirring as you tried to think of what you could do for Butch. Even though you understood some things about magic, it was at this moment that you realized how woefully ignorant you were about how it worked for monsters.

Butch nodded. “I asked… Sans and Pap… too. but… Sans doesn’t have… any experience with... color change. neither does... Pap. he’s never had… many problems with… using his magic… if he stays away… from offensive things. he can heal and… do basic summons… just fine. he can even... change the shape… of his summons, which is more… than the others… can do. he just… can’t control… when it manifests.”

You squeezed Butch, trying to think of anything you could do to help, but you were unable to come up with any ideas. Aside from knowing that magic was a direct representation of their self, and came from their soul, you had no idea how it actually worked. You just didn’t know enough.

“it’s gotten… a little better.” Butch nuzzled your cheek, hearing your worry and trying to reassure you. “Axe keeps me calm… at night… so I don’t summon in… my sleep. and… it doesn’t… get out of control… unless… I’m really upset. but…” Butch sighed heavily, his fingers softly drifting over your arm, “I… don’t want… an accident. if… if I ever… hurt Axe… or you or… the others...”

“But as long as you’re calm, you have control?” you asked, trying to figure out anything you could.

“no…” Butch shook his skull and sat back. He avoided your gaze and stared at his charcoal sheets. “I can’t… do anything with it. I thought I would… get better with time, but it won’t… obey me. it’s like… it’s not even mine… anymore.”

He slowly looked up at you, his white lights wavering in his sockets.

“Lily… what… should I do?”

Your heart twinged painfully at the question. You had absolutely no idea what to do… but you knew someone who did.

The scent of iron drifted over you, seconds before you felt a pair of hands turn you on the bed. Axe had teleported into the room and his red light sparked irritably as he roughly searched you for signs of injury.

The smell of clove shortly followed Axe’s appearance and Mutt appeared in the room, too. He grabbed Axe’s arms, to stop him from flipping the bell of your dress as he tried to turn you heel over head.

Mutt’s raspy voice calmly spoke, even while he was trying to hold Axe back, “I’m worried, too, but if you don’t calm down Sans is going to put you to sleep again.”

“...fuck him!” Axe growled and smacked Mutt’s hands away. “...he has… no right… to do that and… keep me from…protecting them!”

“it’s okay…” Butch got off the bed to hold Axe as he bristled with anger. “Lily and I… are fine. don’t be… upset...”

“What happened?” Mutt asked and helped you to your feet so he, too, could check you over for injury. You and Butch explained together. That Edge had confronted Butch, that Red thew his shoe so Butch could get away, then how Red stuffed you in the bathroom so he could take the brunt of Edge’s wrath. The explanation only seemed to irritate Axe more; the light vanished from his socket. Judging by his reaction, he hadn’t known how much Butch was involved.

“...I told Edge… to stay away… from Butch!” Axe tried to shake Butch off, to move towards the door, and you quickly broke away from Mutt to help Butch calm Axe down. Red plasma was already pouring from his hands, filling the air with the smell of iron.

“Axe, please, we don’t need another fight today!” you pleaded as you pulled at his arm. “Red already got hurt fighting Edge for us, I don’t want to see that happen to you, too!”

“We thought Red and Edge were just fighting like they usually do.” Mutt offered to you and Butch while he helped you both guide Axe onto the bed. “We saw Red’s shoe drop over the railing and into the hall just before the noise started. Then Sans… well, he used his magic like he usually does when he needs to restrain us, but instead it put Axe to sleep. Obviously to keep you from getting upset about the fight,” he said that last bit to Axe, who was bristling again. “Then we heard you shouting, Robin, and Sans vanished. Milord ordered Pap and me to stay downstairs and watch Axe, to keep him away from the fight when he woke up, and then he vanished, too. Not long after that, he came back to get Pap and left me to keep an eye light on Axe.”

“...I didn’t… need to be restrained. ...or forced to sleep.” Axe grumbled. He sat between you and Butch, tangled up between you two, and finally seemed to be calming down. Mutt sat on the bed and draped his long arms over the three of you. “...we should have… been there.”

“We can’t win against Edge.” Mutt said to Axe, his raspy voice stiff with frustration. “You know damn well I wanted to go, too, but Sans is the only one strong enough to stop him without anyone getting dusted. Even Robin knows that. Why else would she call for him and not us?”

You looked up at Mutt, worried that he would be upset. He just smiled at you and nuzzled the top of your head to silently show you that he wasn’t.

“...I can be… just as strong… as Edge.” Axe growled irritably. “...I just choose… not to throw it around… like he does.”

“You also can’t control yourself very well after you’re angry enough to use that kind of force. We’ve all seen you fall into survival mode at least once; you’re nearly Feral.” Mutt pointed out to him. “Don’t get upset, Axe. We don’t think any less of you for it.”

To emphasize Mutt’s point, you and Butch squeezed Axe tightly between you. Axe’s shoulders slumped as he noticed your anxious looks and let himself finally relax.

“...that’s because…” Axe mumbled, drawing you and Butch close so he could nuzzle the sides of your face at the same time, “...the only time… you should use… that kind of violence… is to protect… the ones you care for… the most.”

“At least you have the option. My magic sucks compared to yours.” Mutt sighed, one of his hands coming up to twirl at a lock of your hair. “You know, I never thought I’d say this, but I guess we need to thank Red. If he hadn’t let Butch get away, or locked Robin in the bathroom before all that, who knows what could have happened?”

Axe nodded and turned his single red light on Butch. “...did he really… stick up for you?”

“yeah…” Butch nodded and stared at the floor. His white lights flickered sadly and his soft voice got even quieter as he mumbled, “I… must be... really pathetic… if Red is… protecting me now.”

“...don’t ever…” Axe growled and poked Butch hard in the ribs, “...ever… say that about… yourself again. ...you’re not… pathetic in… any way. ...understand?” Butch shrank a little under Axe’s hard gaze, but he nodded. Axe’s expression brightened and his vacant smile returned. “...good. ...want to… get something to… eat? ...I think… Pap’s done reheating… dinner.”

A shy smile crawled onto Butch’s skull and he nodded again. Axe got up, took Butch’s hand, and gently pulled him towards the door. They paused in the doorway and glanced expectantly over their shoulders at you and Mutt.

“We’ll be right down,” you said as you grabbed hold of Mutt’s arm, to keep him from rising off the bed. “I just need to ask Mutt about something.”

“I’m not upset, Robin,” Mutt said after Axe and Butch had left. He grinned at you, his red lights flickering. “That’s what you want to ask, right? I promise, I’m not jealous you called for Sans. This kind of situation is exactly the kind of thing I thought about before telling you about being an alpha.”

You sighed with relief at his forward assumption. At least that was one thing you didn’t have to worry about. “I’m glad you’re taking that so well. Axe, too. ...I appreciate you taking the initiative with everything you said.”

“Axe is already well aware of his shortcomings since he puts Butch before himself and anyone else.” Mutt shrugged, pulled you onto his lap, and wrapped his arms around your waist. “And I’m well aware that I’m not a great fighter, even though I want to protect you. My talent is in information and writing code, not hitting things, so if I want you to be safe I need to let you take on betas who can do that for you. I’m glad that you found someone who can defend you like Sans can.”

“Then… do you think you could help me with a question right now?” You asked. Mutt’s grin widened and his red eye lights shined.

“What do you want to know, my pretty bird?” his raspy voice purred in your ear.

“Anything you can tell me about color change.” It seemed so obvious to you now. Why had you never asked Mutt about this before? Sans knew a lot, but Mutt’s job was literally to observe his fellow monsters through his camera network and gather information. He could tell you anything you wanted to know about the Underground and its inhabitants.

“Ah, I figured you’d ask eventually. You want to help Butch, don’t you?” Mutt sighed and leaned back so he could stare at the ceiling. “I’m… sorry, Robin. I don’t know that much about it. It’s not a common thing. Actually, it is, but not like Butch’s situation.”

“What do you mean?” you asked, resting yourself against Mutt’s chest as he leaned against the wall.

“To give you an idea, I’ll explain a little bit about how we first form our color. All monsters have white souls. The only exception are Ferals, who have black souls. We know this because our soul can be seen briefly, when our bodies turn to dust upon our deaths, before it vanishes. It’s also shown through the magic we have when we’re children. Kids have white, odorless magic; every single one. As we grow and get to know ourselves, our magic takes on color and gains scent. It’s normal for young kids to fluctuate between different hues and scents before their magic starts to settle during their teendreds. Once we reach maturity though, it’s set and never changes again. ...usually. Butch is the first I’ve heard of where a change happened after that. Then again, he’s only four years past maturity, so… as unlikely as it seems, maybe he’s still young enough for it to happen?”

You shrugged, unable to answer Mutt’s question. While you didn’t want to assume, if monsters and humans had similar age ranges, and humans were considered adults at 18, that would put Butch at around 22. Humans may be physically mature at 18, but you knew from your studies that brain development didn’t stop until the age of 25. Could it be possible Butch had a late change? That still didn’t give you any hint on how to help Butch now.

If you thought about it psychologically, it made more sense. What Mutt said was true, children were far more flexible with their perception of their own identity. Teenagers could be more drastic as they discovered themselves, but their exploration helped solidify who they would be as adults. But if what Sans had told you was right, that magic was a direct representation of their selves, why was Butch having such a hard time controlling it?

To try and confirm your line of reasoning, you asked, “Then, if you had to guess, how could someone change color after maturity? Not just Butch, but any monster?”

Mutt hummed, his fingers slowly running through your hair as he thought. “I guess, if there was a reason, it would have to be something that changed their sense of self so drastically it would force their magic to change in order to continue matching their soul. For monsters, to speak of one is to speak of the other. If our soul changes, our magic has to follow or that individual can’t exist. It would be a contradiction otherwise, you know what I mean?”

“And it’s uncommon for monsters to change after maturity?”

“Kids are more flexible with their sense of self,” Mutt nodded, confirming your understanding. “They can choose who they want to be almost on a whim. Adults don’t change themselves as easily once they’re set in their ways.”

“Then how do kids learn to use their magic if it’s always changing?”

“It’s an extension of ourselves, just like our hands or eyes, that we use to navigate the world. Great example, my brothers and I couldn’t experience touch without it. When we’re growing, it’s a lot easier to get to know how to use magic that fluctuates with us.” Mutt turned his gaze back towards you, his eye lights soft. “I know you want to help Butch with his magic, but he has figure it out on his own. It’s got to be like… learning how to walk again. He knows how he used to do it, but he’s going to stumble around and fall if he tries to run right away without relearning how to stand.” 

“There’s nothing we can do?” you asked sadly. Mutt shook his head. “Even people learning how to walk again can do better if someone holds them up.”

“It’s just a metaphor to help you understand, Robin.” Mutt sighed and twirled a lock of your hair around his finger. “It’s not exactly the same thing. The rest of us want to help Butch, trust me. My brothers and I have had numerous conversations about it when you’re out at school or upstairs studying. None of us have any ideas on what to do and magic is a big part of us. Butch might be on his own in figuring all this out, but he’s not alone. He’s got all of us for support.”

Your gaze fell to the floor and you chewed your lip. If Mutt didn’t know how to help, or Sans or any of the others… that just left one person. The only one who had already been through exactly what Butch was experiencing. But Butch would never go to him for help, despite the fear he might lose control and hurt somebody... 

“Hey,” Mutt gently pressed his sharp teeth to your cheek as a kiss and brought you out of your thoughts. “No need to be so anxious, pretty bird. He’ll get through this fine. This whole incident with Edge is just a bump in the road.”

Did that mean what you were thinking of doing would drive you into the ditch? “I guess…”

“Why don’t we go get some dinner before Axe eats it all?” Mutt stood up from the bed, scooped you up, and carried you bridal style out of the room. “I need to give you your phone back, too. I think you’ll like what I did to it.”

“What did you do?” you asked, your arms around his bony neck. Mutt’s golden fang flashed with his mischievous grin.

“You’ll just have to wait until tomorrow, then I’ll explain everything.”

~~~

The plate of spaghetti was warm in your hand. The garlic bread almost slid off when you tried balancing it on one palm to knock at the door again. Maybe saving a slice of bread from the floor wouldn’t help you convince him, but you were determined to try.

No one else had wanted to bring Edge a plate. (Pap said he could cook for himself just fine.) But you didn’t want him to miss dinner. (Axe thought he deserved a lot more than that for what he did to Butch.) Wouldn’t it be better if Edge came down and talked this out? (Milord just shook his skull at the idea.)

So you had slid your half eaten plate over to Axe, fixed a new one, and left the kitchen (Red’s crimson lights shined at you as you passed him) to come upstairs on your own. Edge might be a prickly bastard, but you knew what he had been trying to do. Even if you had wanted to punch Edge for what he did to Red and Butch, your talk with Mutt made you realize that Edge was right about one thing.

And you knew that, if Red and Sans hadn’t gone to Edge yet for help, they probably never would.

“Edge, I know you’re in there.” You knocked again. “I just want to give you something to eat and talk, is that so bad?”

The door cracked open and Edge stuck his skull out. His red eye lights glared at you as he snapped, “DON’T YOU KNOW, PET, THAT WHEN SOMEONE DOESN’T ANSWER THEIR DOOR IT MEANS THEY DON’T WANT TO TALK? WERE YOU RAISED IN A DUMP?”

You bit your tongue and held the plate out to Edge. He glared at that, too.

“I know what you’re trying to do.” You said, trying to keep yourself from bristling at Edge’s snide tone. It had been so easy to stay calm as you quietly thought at the table, as you made the plate for him and climbed the stairs. But being face to face brought hot anger up to coil in your chest like a snake. Edge sneered and slammed the door in your face before you could bury that feeling. You sighed, resisted the urge to throw the plate in frustration, and added stiffly, “I want to help you help him.”

A moment passed. Then another. Edge’s door opened again and this time you could see his entire tall frame in the opening he made. From just a glance, it didn’t look like he had been in a fight at all. His black jeans and turtleneck were clean, and his studded belts shined. There were no marks on his skull besides his old twin scars, the crack he got when he insulted your scars had healed, and the unfazed stance he took made you tie your anger in a knot to bury deeper.

“WHY WOULD YOU DO THAT?” Edge asked, his tone dripping with suspicion. You said nothing and offered him the plate again. Edge growled, roughly snatched the plate from your hands, and snapped, “ANSWER ME, PET!”

You caught the rogue slice of garlic bread before it hit the ground. “I will answer that if you sit down and talk with me like a civilized person. I’m pretty pissed at you, too, but I didn’t come here to fight with you.” You crossed your arms and tapped your foot against the hardwood floor. “We can discuss things here in the hall, in your room, or downstairs. Your choice.”

“AND WHY WOULD I WANT TO?” Edge’s sharp tone did nothing to hide his irritation with you.

“Because you’ll never be able talk to Butch without my help,” you huffed. “You and I have a common goal, Edge. We both want to help him through this but neither of us can do it alone. I can’t teach him how to control magic, you can’t get him to stay in the same room as you. Do you understand where I’m coming from now?”

Edge glared at you, his red lights slowly searching you for something. He must have found, or didn’t find, whatever he was looking for because he finally came out of his room. With a flick of his wrist, he slammed his door shut and gestured for you to follow him.

Though you trailed behind him down the oak steps, Edge made no move to head towards the noisy kitchen and the company of his brothers. Instead, he brought you into the empty living room.

“YOU HAVE UNTIL I FINISH MY MEAL TO SPEAK.” Edge took a seat on the squishy couch and, to make his point, twirled a large bite of spaghetti onto his fork. A bit of sauce stuck to his sharp teeth as he shoved the bite into his void and his black tongue darted out to lick it away.

“Okay,” you rubbed at your temples to ease your stress. He may have acted like he didn’t want to hear you out, but the fact that Edge came this far meant he was willing to listen. “We both know that you’re the only one who can help Butch understand his new magic, since you’ve already been through the same thing. But he’ll never want to listen to you or be around you while you act like a snide, condescending, asinine, hell of a jerk who bullies him and degrades him and-”

You caught the glare Edge gave you and the slight whiff of gasoline that came with it.

“GET TO THE POINT, PET.” Edge scraped another quarter of his plate into his jaws. “YOUR NOISE IS STARTING TO GET IRRITATING.”

“What I’m trying to say,” you pressed, checking yourself before you let that anger of yours out and ruin what you were trying to do, “Is that you’re going about this completely wrong. Wanting to teach him to control his new magic comes from a good place, but you’re not trying to see this from Butch’s point of view. You scare him, Edge. Plain and simple. So, unless you can swallow your urge to be an asshole whenever you speak to him, I want you to teach me how to help him instead.”

“IMPOSSIBLE,” Edge said simply and took another large bite. Half of the plate was already gone. “ME TEACHING YOU TO USE MAGIC IS LIKE YOU TRYING TO TEACH ME HOW TO GROW SKIN.”

“Then you seriously need to work on your attitude!” You snapped irritably and rested your hands on your hips. The garlic bread you still head was crushed underneath your grip and flakes of crust fell to the hardwood floor. “What you did to him today was completely uncalled for! How could you be so cruel to Butch? And Red, too! How can you tell me you want to protect your brothers when you turn around and tear them down with your words or try to crack their skulls open?”

“I AM NOT NICE,” Edge snarled and jabbed his fork at you. “I DON’T CARE IF THEY HATE ME, AS LONG AS THEY CAN PROTECT THEMSELVES! AND RED’S SKULL IS SO THICK, THE ONLY WAY HE EVER LEARNS IS IF SOMEONE CRACKS IT OPEN.”

“That’s awful, Edge!” You watched Edge scrape the rest of his food into the void behind his jaws and drop the empty plate on the floor. “Butch has done absolutely nothing to you. Why do you act like you hate him so much? And Red… Red raised you! I know your mom, or one of her betas, dropped you off with him and he’s tried so hard to take care of you-”

“HE BARELY RAISED ME AT ALL!” Edge sprang to his feet, his teeth grinding in anger as black plasma started to leak from his red, leather gloves and gather over his fists. “SO SHUT THE FUCK UP, YOU DON’T KNOW ANYTHING! RED LEFT ME ALONE IN THAT SHITHOLE APARTMENT WHILE HE WENT OUT TO PLAY BOSS AND CHASE SKIRTS! THE ONE GOOD THING HE EVER DID WAS SHIP ME OFF TO THE GUARD AND WHEN I CAME BACK TO FIND HIM, HE WAS A WASHED UP DRUNK WITH HALF OF FELL CITY AFTER HIS SKULL!”

Edge’s narrow, red lights stared you down, but you didn’t look away. You felt frozen, unsure if he was going to hit you or start shouting again. Despite this, you weren’t going to back down. You remembered your talks with Red, his remorse, and knew Edge wasn’t giving you the whole story.

“Red loves you,” you said, your voice hard like steel as you stood your ground. “More than anything. He tried his best, Edge. Maybe his best wasn’t enough, but he knows that. Maybe that’s why he sent you to the Guard. If you knew how torn up he was about that, about how he feels like he’s failed you, and how much he’s still willing to do for you despite everything you’ve both been through, you wouldn’t sound so jaded.”

Edge stilled. His eye lights widened ever so slightly and his shoulders fell just a hair’s width from their tense posture. He looked away from you, to the floor, his eye lights flickering with confusion.

“Edge…” you slowly reached your hand out to him. He roughly smacked it away and you quickly drew it back to your chest.

“DON’T TOUCH ME!” He snapped and backed into the couch. His tall frame stumbled, but he caught himself before he could fall back onto the cushions. He glanced at you and, for half a second, you thought his lights had shrank to the pin points of fear. 

“I know you want to protect your brothers,” you kept your voice calm and didn’t try to move closer again. The garlic bread in your other hand was slowly crumbling away as you nervously fiddled with it. “But I told you before, you need to try to be someone they want to trust.”

His shoulders fell again, ever so slightly, and he stared at you expectantly.

“You have a chance,” you said quickly, realizing that you had Edge’s full attention. “You’re right, you’re the only one who’s been through what Butch has and you’re the only one who can help him. But you can’t do that if you don’t try to be a little kinder. You’ll never reach him if he’s afraid of you.”

“...HAVE YOU TOLD HIM?” Edge asked, his red lights flickering strangely as he examined you.

“About what?”

“MY… COLOR CHANGE.” Edge sat on the couch and stared across the room, at the Playbox and the jumble of controllers on the floor. He looked up at you and jerked his skull to show you he wanted you to sit.

“No.” You slowly took the seat at the other end and brought up the crushed garlic bread to stare at. “I know that’s something you don’t want to talk about so I haven’t told anybody since I found out. Unless you tell me otherwise, I’ll keep your secret to myself.”

You could sense Edge watching you and felt him shift his weight on the other end of the couch.

“If you ask me, though,” you glanced out of the corner of your eye to see that Edge was staring at the bit of bread in your hand. “You should tell that secret to Butch. If you do, he might relate to you more and be a bit more understanding on why you’re trying to help him.”

“HE DOESN’T NEED TO KNOW. I JUST WANT HIM TO BE ABLE TO PROTECT HIMSELF.” You turned your head and caught Edge staring at you out of the corner of his socket. “YOU DO UNDERSTAND THAT, IF I TRAIN HIM, I WON’T LET HIM REMAIN HELPLESS?”

“Butch is not helpless. But if by training you mean teaching him more self defense, I think that’s a good goal to have. That would help his confidence.” You nodded your approval for the idea. “Just don’t shove that part of it down his throat. Try going about it a different way. Show him ways to control his magic, then after he understands it, offer to expand on it as a way to defend himself and let him decide for himself. Don’t start off with something that makes him feel like he’s learning to be destructive or violent. You kind of give off those vibes, Edge, if you haven’t picked up on that yet.”

Edge scoffed and held out his hand to you. You stared at it, confused, until Edge rolled his eye lights and snatched the piece of mangled garlic bread out of your hands.

“YOU WILL CONVINCE HIM, THEN.” Edge said stiffly and popped the bread between his teeth. “AXE HAS ALREADY THREATENED TO KILL ME IF I GET CLOSE TO BUTCH, BUT THEY... LIKE YOU. IF YOU CHANGE THEIR MINDS, THEN I WILL CONSIDER DOING THIS YOUR WAY.”

“No. There will be no considering. You will agree to do it my way or I won’t talk to him at all.” You got up from the couch, feeling that knot of anger you buried rise ever so slightly, and stood in front of Edge to stare him in the face. “I want to help Butch first and foremost. You  _ will _ be nice to him if you teach him or I won’t try to change his mind on your behalf. If you haven’t noticed, I’m kind of the only one willing to be on your side at the moment.”

Edge leaned forward, until he was inches from your face, to glare at you. “WHY SHOULD I AGREE? YOU NEED ME, BUT I DON’T GIVE A DAMN ABOUT YOU.”

“You know my offer.” You growled, “Take it or leave it, Edge.”

His eye lights narrowed as you stared each other down. You held your ground, not willing to give an inch if it meant you could do something to help Butch. Edge could humiliate you, terrify you, or even hurt you, but not Butch. You were determined to stand in his way.

“...FINE.” Edge sat back slightly but did not break your eye contact. “HAVE IT YOUR WAY. IT’LL ONLY HAPPEN ONCE.”

You resisted the strong urge to roll your eyes at him as he waved his hand at you, indicating he was done and wanted you to leave, and looked out the window on the far wall. That knot of anger pulsed in your soul again.

“Oh, Edge, one last thing.”

He turned his skull to look at you, silently waiting.

“Do you understand that you really hurt Butch with all the things you said to him?” You asked, your voice dripping with honey despite the knot of anger uncoiling and rearing its ugly head. Red wasn’t here to shove you in a bathroom this time. You knew it was stupid, what you wanted to do, but if he showed even the slightest bit of remorse you would walk away...

Edge quirked a bony brow at you. “HE HAS TO GROW A SPINE EVENTUALLY, PET. GET OVER IT.”

The way he leaned back on the couch, with a smug grin on his skull as your blood boiled, was enough for you to snap. You wound up and slapped Edge across the skull as hard as you could. He fell slightly to the side, his red, gloved hand coming up to hold the side of his face where you hit him, and his red lights widened with surprise. Your hand throbbed with fiery pain. Hitting solid bone that hard definitely broke something.

“Just did.” you growled and stomped from the room towards the kitchen. On the couch, Edge sat back up, his hazing red lights following you out and a black flush creeping across his nasal ridge.

~~~

“how’d you hurt your hand?”

You paused, your hands wrist deep in soapy water, and looked over your shoulder at Sans. He held your gaze as he wiped down the kitchen table with a rag. Or, rather, he conducted his blue magic from afar, which wiped down the table.

“Nothing’s wrong with my hand.” you said, returning to the pile of dirty dishes. Everyone had waited for you after finishing dinner, they knew you went to talk to Edge, and they didn’t want to leave without making sure you were alright. It was sweet of them, to look out for you, but it was difficult to try and hide your broken hand with all of their eye lights on you.

“I’m not dumb, Thyme,” Sans leaned against the marble counter, just to the left of the sink, and quirked a bony brow at you. “and I’m not the only one who noticed that you were trying to hide it.”

“I hide my legs, too. It’s not a big deal.”

“true, but normally you don’t try to sneak monster food when you think nobody’s looking.”

“I only had half a plate of spaghetti for dinner,” you shrugged. Sans narrowed his white eye lights at you. “What? It’s not my fault our food looks so similar.”

Those lights were as thin as thread while Sans appraised you. “...did he hurt you?”

“No.” you said, staring right back at him.

Sans held your gaze, then sighed heavily. “I know you’re not exactly lying, but... how did you hurt yourself?”

“I hit something really hard.” You said stiffly and turned back to the dishes. “Don’t worry about it, Sans. I just needed to make a point. What else do you need help with in the kitchen?”

He came up behind you, his hands drifting over your waist, and rested his skull against the back of your head. The smell of damp wood mixed with the lemon soap in the sink as his magic drifted from his fingertips.

“you did it for Butch, didn’t you?” Sans asked, his low voice a murmur behind your ear. “Thyme… I get why you did it. we’ve all taken a swing at Edge at one point or another. but please,” his grip tightened around you, “don’t be reckless.”

You gave a small sigh, wiped your hands dry on the towel, and met his touch. “I know, Sans. I’m sorry. I was angry and I shouldn’t have done that. I just… I have a breaking point, too, and what he did today just… it was too much for me. I can’t watch him hurt you guys like that.”

“I know.” Sans gave you a squeeze to show his sympathy. “trust me, I know. I’ve had to watch him do worse over and over again. if you want to talk about breaking points, just remember that I might reach mine if I have to watch him try to kill you one more time.”

You looked over your shoulder at Sans. He smiled and pressed his teeth to your cheek.

“so if Edge needs his ass kicked to learn some respect, you call me instead of trying to do it yourself.” Sans turned you around to face him. He ran his hands up your hips and over your sides. “normally, I wouldn’t use violence to solve a problem, but you know that I’m willing to make an exception if you tell me to, don’t you?”

“You know I don’t want you to do that.” you said as Sans started to pepper your cheek with kisses, slowly working his way toward your neck while you spoke. “You’re brothers, I don’t want you to fight each other at all.”

“the only reason that powder keg still lives here, after all the trouble he’s caused, is because he’s our brother. I’d have kicked him out a long time ago if he wasn’t family.” Sans nipped at the soft spot on your neck and your cheeks flushed with heat. “now hush and let me mark you. if Edge tries to get back at you for hitting him, I want him to remember who he’s going to be dealing with after.”

Sans pressed his hips against yours, pinning you to the counter, and brought one of your legs up to rest over his pelvis. One hand slowly ran up the long, thigh-high sock you wore towards your backside, squeezing you as it traveled. The other hand turned your face towards his and he slipped his blue tongue past your lips, giving you a taste of rain while you held onto his hoodie.

“Sans,” you whispered, trying to warn him that he shouldn’t get too worked up. He shivered at the sound of his name and started to grind his hips against yours. He drowned your next words beneath his kisses. “I’m still… meeting… tonight-”

“I know.” he panted, his eye lights hazing. A blue flush started to spread across his nasal ridge while he bit at your soft spot again. You bit your lip to stop yourself from moaning and encouraging him. “just… a little more.”

You allowed it and let him return to kissing you, to wrestling with his tongue and the taste of rain while he pulled at your hips. Heat flooded your belly as you felt him angle his pelvis to rub your sensitivity through his shorts. You sighed into him and he tried to pull your body closer, past your clothes and into him. You broke the kiss, not liking that you needed to stop this before you got too worked up, too. “Sans, really, I think-”

He shivered again and cut off your words with his mouth. His grinding became rougher and he slipped his hand up your thigh to rub his thumb against your underwear, to tease the sensitive nub over your entrance. You couldn’t stop the small moan that escaped you.

Sans grip tightened on your hip and he reluctantly pulled away. His hazy lights slowly looked you over and he let out a long sigh.

“just a fair warning to you,” he let his teeth touch your lips in the lightest of kisses, “if you don’t want me to get too worked up, don’t say my name when we mess around.”

“I thought you were good at controlling yourself?” You asked, turning red as Sans smirked at you.

“yeah,” Sans shrugged, took another step back, and stuffed his twitching hands into the pockets of his blue hoodie. “but cut me some slack, Thyme. you kind of rocked my world last night. that was the first time we ever got together and I’m a little eager to do it again.”

“I’m not saying no to that, but I really don’t want to have a claim smell on me when I see Butch tonight.” you brushed at the bell of your dress, like you could wipe away the scent you couldn’t detect. “Axe is already upstairs trying to convince him that he won’t hurt me if he sleeps in the same room as me. I don’t want anything else that might make him upset.”

“you’re fine. my mark’s a little thick, but that’s all that’s there.” Sans put his hand on your shoulder, to stop you from leaving the kitchen. You saw that his eye lights had returned to normal and he wore a snarky grin on his skull. “and if Butch tries to cover it up, more power to him.”

~~~

Butch’s soft, lilting laughter filled your room as you finished explaining to him your plan for your next prank on Sans. Both of you held a cup of hot cocoa in you hands and you were enjoying the sound of Butch’s mirth while you sat on your bed together.

“h-how are you… going to get him… to stay asleep?” Butch giggled and moved his own hot cocoa to the floor to prevent spills on the sketchbook in his lap or on your cream colored sheets. Even though he had been reluctant to be alone with you (Axe had to practically shove him out of his room to get him to follow you to the attic) you were glad that he seemed to be feeling better and enjoying himself.

“If I can get him sometime this week after he’s done cleaning, then I’m pretty sure he’ll be out cold. He’s working pretty hard to keep up with Milord’s lists.” You grinned as Butch redoubled his soft laughter and scratched at your grey sweat pants. You were also glad that you had taken a moment to change your clothes. If Butch had noticed whatever was left of Sans’ mark, he didn’t seem bothered by it. “I know you and Axe don’t like to waste food, but that’s not too bad, right?”

Butch shook his skull. “...it’s not. but… if you tell Axe… when you do your prank… I’m sure he’ll want to… help you clean up.”

“I’ll definitely have to take a picture before he does.” You looked around at the bare walls of your room as you imagined what they would look like covered with photos. “I’d like some of you guys to hang up.”

Butch followed your gaze around the room, then fell to the sketchbook in his lap. He picked at the black hardcover with his bony fingers. “if… you want, I could… give you some. they’re all… unfinished sketches and… they’re not… very good, but…”

“You mean it? I’d love that, your drawings are fantastic!” You squealed and scooted across the bed, carefully balancing your hot cocoa, so that you were sitting next to Butch. He flushed gold and held his sketchbook to his chest.

“m-maybe the backgrounds… are okay…” Butch mumbled, avoiding your gaze as his color deepened. “but I don’t… get many chances to… practice figure drawing. usually… I have to catch my brothers… when they’re sleeping.”

“You have pictures of Axe, don’t you?” You asked and leaned against Butch’s shoulder. He handed his sketchbook over to you and you set your cup on the floor. Hands now free, you eagerly opened it to look through his drawings. “On your wall, I mean. I’ve seen ones of him holding small animals.”

“yeah…” Butch gave you a shy, lopsided smile and watched you examine a rough picture of what appeared to be the underside of the shed. A fox was curled up, away from the snow, with its head on its tail as it slept. “he helps… when he can.”

You turned to the next page. This picture was more finished than the previous one, and featured Axe sitting on a stump. It felt like the penciled eye light was watching you through the page and his vacant grin showed you that he was sitting patiently while he waited for Butch to finish the drawing.

“um…” Butch fidgeted with a loose string on his red hoodie, “I… I kind of… wanted to see… if… while you were studying…”

You looked up from a drawing of the woods during the snow melt. Butch’s nasal ridge flushed gold again while he stared at the sheets.

“if I could…” his nervous picking was starting to make a hole in his sleeve. “...draw you?”

“I wasn’t really planning on studying tonight. Today has been… something else.” You took his hand and intertwined your fingers with his to stop his fidgeting. “But I’d still be okay with you drawing me if that’s what you want.”

“...really?” Butch looked up from the sheets, his eye lights shining.

“Sure!” You gave him a broad smile and turned pink as you admitted, “I don’t know what to do, though. I’ve never had someone want to draw me. Do you want me to change back into a dress and do I have to pose a certain way or…?”

“no,” Butch got to his feet, his white lights bright with excitement. “I’ll pose you… here, on the bed… and…” He looked around the room, appraising everything in it. “can I… move some things around? for… composition?”

“What are you thinking of moving?” You asked, watching Butch place your cups of cold cocoa on the pine dresser, shift them around, and take a step back to examine the effect they had next to your books and plants. “I don’t really mind if we move furniture, but I’d rather not move the plants too much. I’m still not sure how delicate the monster variety is and I don’t want to possibly ruin the growth I have.”

“what are you… doing with all of them?” Butch bent slightly, to examine the two little plants atop your pine dresser.

“An experiment.” You got off the bed and came to his side, to look over the thin little stalks as they reached towards the ceiling. Had you really never told Butch, or Axe, about what you were trying to do? They had been a huge part of your inspiration. “I’m trying to cross breed surface plants with those that grow in the Underground. I want to create a variety that will grow up here, but will also have the magic that you guys need.”

Butch’s eye lights widened as he watched you pull out a pair of notebooks. You flipped them open to show him your notes so far and the plans you had for the garden once planting season arrived. 

“If I can get this to work, I want to try applying it to a huge variety of plants.” You turned pink under his stare and looked towards the circular window, to the night sky outside. The color on your face deepened as you admitted, “I... started this whole thing after you told me what happened with you and Axe in the Underground. I know it might not work, but I just… never wanted you guys to feel like you would go hungry again.”

“you did this… for us?” Butch asked, stunned. You nodded.

“It’s mostly for you and your brothers, but if this works...” you hesitated, but found no reason to not tell Butch. “If this works out well, I want to give my notes to Milord so he can use this to help the Underground and no one else has to go hungry, either.”

The air left your lungs as Butch pulled you into a bone crushing hug. His breath was warm against your ear as he whispered, “thank you…”

“Don’t thank me just yet,” you wheezed as he loosed his hold enough for you to breathe. You turned back to look at your plants, just missing the haze of his white lights as he watched you. “I don’t know if cross breeding will work. Everything is growing well, but I have to wait until they’re mature to try that step.”

“what do you… mean?” Butch tilted his skull and followed your gaze. “aren’t you… already successful? they’re both… monster variety.”

You felt the color drain from your face. “N-no they’re not. I was sure I took one bulb of each kind.”

“they both… have magic.” Butch released you and moved to the dresser, to examine the pair of plants again. He pointed at the one closest to you. “this one.. has more than… the other, but they’re both… monster plants.”

“Wait, you can tell which has more, not just if it has magic?” You grabbed your notes and flipped through them, looking over everything you had written down while you searched your backpack with one hand for a pen. “I’m positive that half of them are the surface variety. Maybe I just got them mixed up and accidentally paired the two monster varieties together. If I show you the others, can you tell me which ones have magic so I can label them?”

Butch smiled and nodded, his expression eager. He slowly followed you around the attic room while you showed him the dozens of plants you had. Each pair had been set in a different spot based on how much sunlight they would receive. While Butch couldn’t tell you exactly how much magic they had, he could tell you which plant had more compared to the other in a pair, or which pair had more magic compared to another pair.

You were astonished. According to Butch, every plant contained magic in some amount. All except…

“this… has none.” Butch said. The two of you were lying on your bed, looking at the pair of plants you kept hidden from the light, and he was pointing towards the only wilting plant you had.

“That doesn’t make sense.” You finished jotting down your note and chewed on your eraser while you flipped back through the notebook. “I’m sure I grabbed one of each variety, so how could they all have magic? They haven’t grown enough to flower, let alone develop bulbs. And why would one have more magic than another in the same pair? Why does the pair on my dresser have the most magic and the ones behind my bed have little or none at all? I thought for sure the ones in the dark would’ve done the best, not the ones in full sun, since there’s no sunlight in the Underground. Well, one is doing fine, but why is the other wilting? Of course, if that one is the surface variety...”

Was that honestly the only surface plant you had? Had you really made a terrible mistake in the beginning, that you had only grabbed monster plants when you started? You hadn’t cross bred anything yet, so you must have. You couldn’t explain why almost every plant had magic, otherwise. But that meant, if you truly had made a mistake, that would mean you had to start all over. It had taken so long for these plants to grow. Why hadn’t you made sure what variety you had in the beginning?

Butch’s bony brow furrowed with confusion while he watched you mumble to yourself. “I’m sorry… Lily. I didn’t mean… to ruin your… experiment.”

“You didn’t ruin it, you helped me.” You smiled at Butch, to show him you weren’t upset at him. “I wouldn’t have known any of this otherwise. I can’t sense magic like you can.”

His gaze fell to the sheets and his nasal ridge turned gold with embarrassment. You stilled, staring at that color. An idea struck you and you frantically turned the pages back to the day you were looking for.

“Yes!” You shouted. Butch jumped at the loud, sudden noise. You turned on the bed, taking his hand in yours, and the words spilled from you like a water tap on full blast. “What if you  _ did _ have something to do with this? Your color change! You were in my room when it started, your grey magic was everywhere! Axe and Sans didn’t want me to stay while it was lingering, but the plants were here! What if you caused them to grow and- and something about your magic made them swap genetics or something?”

“that’s… impossible.” Butch shook his skull and you felt your desperate excitement deflate. “Axe and I… have tried before. to… grow things… in the Underground. if I could grow plants… I would have done it… when we were hungry.”

“But…” you flipped through the pages again. “They had a growth spurt after being exposed to your magic. Why would that happen if…?”

Butch shrugged sadly. “I… don’t know.”

You asked, feeling like a weight had settled in your stomach, “You… don’t have a special ability or something? Like Pap’s healing?” Or like the soul sight Sans had gotten from Wings?

“no…”

There wasn’t a way to save this. You really had just made a mistake. A costly one, since the snow was already melting and you knew you didn’t have a lot of time. A heavy sigh escaped you and you flopped face first onto the bed, mumbling, “Well, at least I can see if these will grow on the surface. No point in wasting all that effort.”

“I’m sorry…” Butch gently touched your back, to comfort you, and you turned your head to the side to look at him.

“It’s not your fault.” You rolled over and held your arms out to him, silently asking for his embrace. Butch laid next to you and flushed as you cuddled up into him. “I’ll just have to try again. I can still use the plants I have to try different methods of cultivation. Monster varieties don’t grow well in the Underground, right?”

You could feel Butch nodding against the side of your head.

“Then I’ll have something to work for while I start again.” You sighed again and buried your face into his neck. He smelled like trees and the woody, green smell helped calm you. “Even if I can’t try cross breeding right away, these plants seem to be growing okay in my room. If I can figure out how to cultivate monster plants on the surface, that should count for something, right?”

“yes…” Butch mumbled into your hair. His hands drifted over your back and you felt his ribs move beneath his hoodie as he breathed deeply. “you don’t… have to do this, Lily…”

“I want to.” You pulled away slightly, feeling stubborn. You weren’t going to give up on your experiment, not when success would mean so much to those you cared about. “I’ll just have to try again and be more careful this time. If you want, I’d appreciate having your help. You can help me verify which variety is which and tell me about all those magic things I can’t sense.”

“I’d… like that.” Butch sighed, his white lights hazing slightly as he looked at you. “you’re... always helping us. it’s the least… I can do.”

“If you’re okay with it,” you asked, trying to broach the subject gently, “maybe, once you can control your magic a bit better, we could try including it in some of my experiments. Who knows? Maybe you do have a special ability and just don’t know it.”

He turned away, barely able to keep the disappointment in himself out of his voice. “don’t... count on it, Lily. I’m sorry, but… I’ve been getting… worse. I’ll never… figure it out… at the rate I’m going.”

Should you ask him now? It seemed like the right time to bring it up, but there was one more thing you wanted to try. One more way you could see that might help. If that didn’t work, then you would bring up your talk with Edge.

“Would it help if you understood why?” you asked as Butch sat back, putting distance between you. “Your magic is a representation of yourself, right? So if you understood why it happened…”

Butch shrugged as your words trailed off. “I think… it was because… of you. I told you… about my past… and you accepted me.”

“Maybe,” you said gently, trying to go over everything you knew and what information to offer that might help him figure it out. “I’m not too sure about that, though. If it was just my acceptance, why didn’t Axe change, too?”

Butch shrugged again. Your brow crinkled in thought. If it was just your acceptance, that also brought up the question of why Sans didn’t change. From the little you knew, Edge had changed because of something bad. Red had said that they lived with a human, then one day he came back and she was gone and Edge had changed. So it could be because of an individual, but hadn’t Edge admitted that Red had left him alone?

“Would you want to tell me about your old magic?” you asked Butch, who had been curiously staring at you while you thought. “If it’s not too personal, could you explain why it had the color and scent it did? It’s okay if you’re not comfortable telling me.”

Butch hesitated, his white lights appraising you. It was understandable, you had asked a very personal question.

“I… never liked myself… very much.” Butch’s gaze fell to the sheets again and you could barely hear his whispered words. “everything Edge says… it’s all… things I used to… tell myself. that… I was… useless… weak and cowardly. ...a burden. sometimes… I still...”

“You know that you’re not any of those things, right?” You set your hand over Butch’s and gave him a gentle squeeze. Butch shrugged.

“I felt… like it,” he mumbled, still avoiding your eyes. “Axe always… protected me. provided… for me… while I hid. I was always… scared and hungry. it... got a little better… once Sans took us in.”

Butch sighed and you felt him tighten his grip on your hand, like he was bracing himself.

“my scent… before… before the human… was actually dust. not like… monster dust, but… old dust. like… what was in… our old house. the stuff that… settles when… no one cleans or lives… in a place… for a long time.”

“It changed to sweet rot after you saved Axe?”

He nodded. “not long… after that.”

“How long ago was that?”

“...six years?” Butch mumbled, unsure of what he said as he said it. “I… think I was in my… teendreds, but… I don’t remember… my exact age. it’s hard… to be sure of time… in a place… that’s unchanging. Mutt knows… how old I am... though, since he… can access… our records.”

“What about after Sans took you in? You mentioned that you started feeling better.”

“kind of…? there was… a lot to… get used to… at first. I was still… scared a lot… since he… had to restrain Axe… almost every day. but... once we started… to trust him and… my other brothers… that’s when… it got better. for the first time… we didn’t feel like… we would starve. we… started to realize… that they would… protect us, too. most of them… like Sans, Pap, and Mutt… were always patient. especially… with me. they didn’t push me… because they knew… I was shy.”

You slowly nodded, an understanding dawning on you. “They helped you with your confidence, didn’t they?”

Butch shrugged. “they... tried. I think… I think I finally felt that…” a slight dusting of gold filled his nasal ridge, “after you… moved in. you made me feel… like I shouldn’t… hate myself so much. especially… with what you said… after I told you… about the human. I…” Butch’s gaze fell again at his next words. “I… hated myself… especially… for what I did to... survive. and… I carried that...”

“Doing what you need to so you can survive doesn’t make you a terrible person.” You drew Butch into you so that his back was laying on your stomach and his skull rested on your chest. You draped your arms across his chest, letting your chin rest on the top of his skull. “You’re a beautifully gentle soul, Butch. I really hope you see that for yourself.”

“I know… I try to. it helps… that I told you about… that human. I don’t think… I ever would have forgiven… myself if… you hadn’t forgiven me… first.”

You watched Butch as he dragged his fingertips over the sleeve of your green sweater. It hurt, to think that he had thought so little of himself; that his trauma with that human had effected him to the point his guilt changed the scent of his magic.

“I have a theory.” you whispered, watching his small motion over your sleeve pause. “I don’t think you changed just because of me. I think it was everything that happened after you and Axe were taken away from District 4. You got out of a desperate situation and were brought to a safe place. You used to fear other monsters, but then you gained a whole family to love and support you and help you come back from everything. I think, and again this is just a theory, but maybe this color change was a long time coming. You were learning to love yourself again and that last little bit of history, you sharing your past with me, was just part of it. I think what really set off the change was you finally forgiving yourself for what you had to do.”

You saw Butch’s broken teeth twitch up into a lopsided smile.

“I think… you’re right. I do… like myself… a lot more.”

“And your new magic is awesome.” You said, hoping to keep Butch’s mood up. “The color is really bold and it smells like… the woods?” You frowned and Butch looked up at you. “I mean, I’m pretty sure it does, but when you were first changing I thought I smelled something more flowery. Or maybe some kind of sugar?”

Butch gave a soft chuckle. “I wasn’t so sure… who I was after, Lily. once I… figured that out… the scent settled. I wanted… to be strong… so...” his nasal ridge flushed gold, “now it… smells like… maple trees.”

You gave him a broad smile and drew him into you for a tight hug. “Gold and maple suits you way better. Maybe you’re like a little sapling right now, with the new change, but once you grow more confidence not even Edge’s snarky comments will be able to push you over.”

His nasal ridge flushed gold and he sat up, unable to look you in the eye.

“I do feel… a bit more confident.” Butch’s white lights studied the cream colored sheets. “at least… now I know that… if I… you won’t…”

The golden flush spread until it covered his skull and he took your hand in his. You tilted your head, curious as to why he would get so flustered now.

“I won’t what?”

His white lights slowly came up, lingered on your chest over your soul spot, then up to your lips. “you won’t… taste… sweet rot… if I...”

You felt your cheeks warm as he slowly, nervously, leaned ever-so-slightly towards you. That’s why he was always afraid to kiss you before? Maybe it would be kinder if you didn’t mention those times he had woken up and pulled you in, half awake, to do exactly what he was trying to do now.

You could feel Butch shiver with nerves through your contact with his hand and you smiled, affection filling you. He really was too shy for his own good. You tugged him the rest of the way forward, your free hand coming up to cup the side of his skull, and pressed your lips to his broken teeth. Butch froze, unsure of what just happened.

When he finally did realize that he was kissing you, he sighed into you and his hand left yours so he could wrap his arm around your shoulders and pull you in. His other hand came up to brush your cheek while on its way to your hair, to hold your head while he pressed into you.

“Lily…” he breathed and you leaned into him, using that one moment of speech to caress his tongue with yours and taste him. You hummed, delighted by the warm, syrupy taste he gave you. Butch froze again, unsure of what to do, and you gently prompted him by returning to a basic kiss. You patiently waited, letting him make the choice to lick at your bottom lip and silently ask to try again.

When he did, you let Butch take the lead. His golden tongue was just a little bit clumsy as it wrestled with yours, so you made the smallest of moans to encourage him as his hand drifted down from your shoulders and over your back. He shivered at the noise, his thumb caressed your cheek, and he started to lean to the point you were being pushed back onto the bed. Slowly, you guided Butch to move up so you could bring him on top of you.

Butch broke the kiss, his skull flushed solid gold as he held himself above you on the bed. His white lights were a thick haze as he looked you up and down.

“Go at your own pace, Butch,” you said softly at his hesitation and laid your arms out to the side, offering yourself to him. “You can do whatever you want, as much or as little as you like, and I’ll follow your lead.”

“w-whatever I…?” Butch’s gaze snapped up to yours. You nodded. 

There was a loud crack, like the splitting of a large stone. Butch fell on you, holding you protectively as you both looked for the source of the noise. Hot cocoa leaked from between the cracks of your shattered mugs and you both stared at the ghost of golden plasma lingering nearby. The smell of maple slowly drifted over while you watched the cocoa drip to the floor.

“m-maybe I…” Butch avoided your eyes as he started to get off you, “I shouldn’t... at least until… I learn to control… my magic.”

You stopped him with a hand on his shoulder. His white lights snapped over to stare at the touch. “I understand. But you were fine when we kissed, so I hope that’s still okay?”

His gaze found yours and he gave a hopeful, lopsided smile as he nodded his skull. Butch gently helped you sit back up. He nervously ran a hand over his skull as he looked at the broken ceramic.

“I, um…” Butch sighed in a defeated sort of way and said, “I understand if… you don’t want me to… spend the night with you. I know I stopped… summoning in my sleep but… well, I still… could.”

“As long as you’re comfortable with it, I would love to spend the night with you, Butch.” You said, leaning against him to give him a comforting hug. His smile quickly returned and he nodded.

Knowing that Milord would have a fit if he ever found out about the cocoa, you got up from the bed and searched for your torn up, black sweater dress. It was beyond repair, but at least you could use it as a rag to clean up. Butch sat on the bed, his skull tilted as he watched you.

“hey, Lily…?” He asked quietly as you started to pick up broken shards of ceramic.

“Hm?”

“can I… still draw you?”

You looked over your shoulder and gave Butch a broad smile. “I’d like that.”

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hoo boy, another chapter up for you guys. I hope you've enjoyed it! There's a lot of stuff in here for you all to pick apart :D
> 
> And to be clear, I've had a plan laid out for the plant experiment since before it was introduced in the story. I don't know how much you guys will be able to guess or figure out based on my many hints, but I'm excited for the chapter where I'll be able to give you all the answers. It'll explain more than you thought. <3


	25. Ch 23 - Dolphins, Bears, and Pets

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey everyone! Sorry for such a long break between updates. (I've been working on another project that I think you'll have fun with <3) I hope you enjoy the new chapter!

Ch 23 - Dolphins, Bears, and Pets

“Could I borrow a moment of your time to talk about monster rights?”

“What? No, what the hell are you even talking about?” The student passing you glanced up just in time for you to note the look of disdain on their face.

“Excuse me, are you aware that our current laws uphold segregation that is an infringement upon-” you smiled, encouraged that the next person paused to listen. “-the rights of monsters?”

They walked away quickly, their nose crinkled up in disgust. You sighed and gripped your pen tightly, to stop yourself from wrinkling the papers on your clipboard. Since yesterday had turned out so few signatures, you had decided to petition between classes and during lunch to try and boost your numbers.

“Pardon me!” you chased after a couple leaving the campus cafe you had stationed yourself in front of. “Would you be interested in helping to dissolve the law that keeps monsters prisoner on Mt. Ebott and… and they’re gone.”

You sighed again and looked around at the crowd of students travelling around campus. Word spread fast; many of them were already starting to give you a wide berth to avoid attracting your attention or, if they had to pass by you to get into the cafe, avoided your eyes and hurried through the doors.

One signature. That’s all you had to show for almost an hour of work. Adding that to yesterday’s list, you still didn’t have enough to bump your numbers into the double digits. You knew this would be hard, you knew that people held a lot of fear and prejudice towards monsters in their hearts, but you didn’t expect them to be so determined to avoid the subject entirely.

“Do you have a moment-?” you jumped on the next person to exit the cafe, your nerves steeled to try and get at least one more signature before you had to go to class. To your great surprise, you found yourself trying to push your clipboard into Abby’s face.

“Hey there, sweetie!” She smiled, looking chipper with a large cardboard cup in her manicured hand and a smile framed with pink lipstick. “I should’ve guessed the rumor I heard was about you. Is this why you don’t have time to tutor me? You’re petitioning monster rights?”

“Oh, yeah.” You nodded and offered her the clipboard. “Would you want to sign? It would really help me with dissolving the segregation law.”

“No thanks,” Abby waved the clipboard away and took a sip from her cup, leaving a lipstick stain on the rim. Eyeing your dejected look, she added, “Look, sit down, sweetie. I get that you have a thing for monsters, with the way you argue in class for them, but I just don’t feel the same way. No one does. They’re dangerous. You heard the rumor of what happened to that family and so has everyone else by now.”

“They’re not dangerous!” You sat with Abby at one of the small, raised tables outside of the cafe and pulled your backpack beneath your tall chair. “I mean, they can be, but that’s just like with humans! Most monsters are nice. There’s no reason to be afraid of them.”

“How would you know that?” Abby asked, raising a perfectly plucked eyebrow at you. You pressed your lips together into a thin line to keep silent. “Come on, sweetie. If you can’t even argue your point properly you’ll never convince anyone to sign your petition.”

You stared at the metal latticework of the tabletop. It wouldn’t be hard to argue your point, but almost everything you knew was confidential. Milord would get into huge trouble if you started trying to disprove the rumor and ended up spreading the things you knew too much about. Trying to prove monsters weren’t violent would only bring up the existence of Ferals instead. (And your cause would surely be lost if people heard about that and more rumors spread.) You couldn’t even press the point that the Underground was in trouble, that it needed food and resources, and that this law’s existence was only going to help push its Queens into lashing out with war.

“There’s that annoying ‘I know something but I won’t tell you’ look.” Abby sighed and traced the rim of her cup with a french tipped nail. “You know, if you didn’t seem like the modest type, with how you dress to cover yourself all the time, I would assume you’re just trying to act like you’re better than everyone else.”

“What, no!” You shook your head quickly, horrified that was the impression she was getting from you. “I just… I don’t-”

A cheery jingle sounded. You looked at Abby expectantly, recognizing the phone ringtone.

“I think that’s you, sweetie.” Abby smirked and took a sip of her steaming drink. From the glimpse of color, you guessed it to be green tea.

Confused, you dug through your backpack through your phone. Who would call you? The only numbers you had were for the school, financial aid, security, and Abby. Abby was sitting right here, so maybe financial aid?

You answered the call, marked as unknown, with a business-like greeting.

“Morning, Robin. What’s with the formalities?”

“Mutt?!” Out of all the things you would have guessed, hearing Mutt’s raspy voice was the least expected thing. You fumbled the phone and it dropped to the table, to the concrete below, and into a puddle of… hopefully snow melt and coffee. 

Abby snickered into her cup of tea. “Mutt? What kind of name is that?”

You grabbed your phone from the puddle and sprang to your feet. With a mumbled, “I’ll be right back,” to Abby, you dashed towards a group of skeletal trees for privacy while wiping the mystery liquid away on the bell of your black wrap dress.

“Mutt, is that you?” You asked into the phone, your heart hammering in your chest as you paced the soggy ground.

“Who else?” he chuckled in your ear, “Back the phone’s camera up a little, I can’t see you when it’s pressed to your face like that.”

You drew your phone away to look at the screen. Mutt waved at you, his red eye lights still fuzzy with sleep, and his bones glowing slightly with the light from his computer.

“I know, I’m amazing, aren’t I?” Mutt grinned at your dumbfounded look. “Trust me, getting this to work wasn’t easy.”

“Are you calling me from your computer?”

“Yup.” Mutt nodded. “I wanted to be able to see you first thing when I woke up. Since you’re usually gone by the time that happens, I figured this was the next best thing.”

“Is that why you wanted to borrow my phone? To install a video chat app?” you asked, glancing over at Abby. She waved at you and you waved back, showing her that you weren’t just ditching her. “I understand you like computers, but wouldn’t it have just been easier to give me your phone number?”

“What I made is way better than any of your flimsy human apps. Besides, I don’t have a phone anymore,” Mutt shrugged and yawned widely, his golden fang flashing. “Most of my brothers don’t, either. A lot of us did, back when we lived in the Underground, but they’re useless now that we’re on the surface. They can’t penetrate all that rock below us to get a signal without specially licensed upgrades from Dr. Alphys.”

“Oh, I see. Um, I’m really happy to see you, and to know I can talk to you, but,” you asked, narrowing your eyes at Mutt. “you’re not going to get in trouble for this, are you?”

Mutt gave a short, raspy laugh. “Not at all. That’s why it took me awhile, I had to reprogram your phone to make it secure. Don’t tell me you’re just as unappreciative of my skill as Milord?”

“I’m not a tech genius like you,” you mumbled, turning pink. Mutt gave you a broad grin at your words. “I have no idea what kind of work it takes to do what you did.”

“Do you have time to chat?” he asked. You could see him fishing off screen for something and then realized quickly that he was pulling out one of his black cigarettes. “I can explain some of what I did for you, if you like, and I’ll leave the major tech stuff out of it so it’s easy to understand.”

You glanced over your shoulder at Abby. Her legs were crossed and her foot was bouncing impatiently as she watched a group of students pass her by. While you really wanted to talk to Mutt, it would be really rude to ditch your new friend without being able to explain why.

“Can I call you after my next class? I’d ask to text, but if you don’t have a phone... maybe we could email?” You asked, a smile creeping onto your face. “It would be nice to be able to talk to you all day. I miss you.”

Mutt smiled, the cigarette nestled between his sharp teeth as he lit it. “I miss you too, pretty bird. I’ll email you first since I’m not there to show you how to access the backdoor I set up in your drive to message me. Calling is easier until then. If you need me, just select your call option, then hold your home button for more than five seconds and it’ll automatically dial me.”

“My home button?”

Mutt nodded again and breathed out a plume of purple smoke into the camera. “I’m sorry I couldn’t make it obvious with a simple icon. It wouldn’t be good for just anyone to contact me if they got a hold of your phone. Until I can walk you through the instructions to lock everything back up, don’t take your eyes off your phone or anyone can find the data trail back to me. If we’re going to email today you’ll need to keep the conversation open to read or reply, and that gives anyone easy access.”

You nodded, understanding why Mutt was being so cautious. Thanks to his punishment from the Queens, he wasn’t supposed to exist. If any emails leaked out of you talking to him, or your video conversations somehow got online, he could get in serious trouble. “I have a password on my lock screen. Shouldn’t that help?”

Mutt gave you a devilish grin. “Those don’t matter to people like me, and those are the kind of people I’m worried about. Talk to you soon?”

“Of course. Thank you for this, Mutt. Love you and talk to you soon.”

His red eye lights softened. “Love you too, Robin. Have fun in class.”

Mutt reached off camera and then your screen went dark. You held your phone, just staring at the home button, with a broad, goofy smile on your face. This was his surprise? Setting up a secure way to talk to each other? You didn’t know why it was difficult for someone as tech savvy as him to do, but you knew it had taken effort and you appreciated it.

It was hard being away from the house, especially knowing that none of the brothers could come visit you off of the mountain. You had been kicking yourself for so long to get their numbers, but you had always seemed to forget during the chaos of the house. Now that Mutt had connected you to him, you didn’t feel like your home was so far away.

“Everything okay?” Abby asked as you returned to the table by the cafe. “You seem pretty happy for an emergency.”

“Emergency?” You asked, still beaming. Just five seconds and you could call him at any time.

Abby rolled her eyes at you. “Duh. Why else would you freak out and drop your phone like that? And what’s up with that name, Mutt?”

“He’s another one of my housemates,” you said happily and looked over your clipboard. The tiny list of names made your joyous bubble deflate somewhat. “I just wasn’t expecting to hear from him, that’s all. He, um, usually sleeps later than this.”

“He?” Abby raised her perfect eyebrows in surprise. “Just how many guys do you live with?”

“A handful. It’s not a big deal,” you waved her question away and stuck the clipboard out at her as a distraction. “Are you sure you won’t sign?”

“Ugh, no.” Abby pushed the petition away. “I already admitted I’m a bit racist, sweetie, but I don’t exactly have any reason to change my mind. You’re not helping, either, by acting like you know something and not sharing.”

“Come on, Abby!” you sighed. “I have one month to get a thousand signatures to extend my deadline for the grand total! I’m already two days into this and I’ve only got six!”

Abby chewed at her pink lips. Some of her lipstick stuck to her teeth and she said, “If you can tell me one good reason why I should sign for monster rights, then I’ll sign. But no vague stuff! I want an honest, no hidden meanings answer from you.”

“They’re good people.” You said quickly, latching onto this opportunity. “They’re kind and thoughtful, they’re helpful, and they’re understanding. They’re not so different from humans: they’re intelligent and have family dynamics and love music-”

“Same thing with dolphins, but you don’t see me fighting for their rights.” Abby sighed and took another sip of her tea. “As far as I’ve heard, monsters are violent and murderous and eat people. I’d rather sign a petition for the dolphins; they’re cute and don’t try to eat you.”

You bit your lip, your mind desperately searching for something to say. Abby was right, if you couldn’t convince her, the only person who disagreed with you but was still willing to listen to your side, how could you change anyone else’s mind? You couldn’t say anything that might get someone in trouble, but you knew Abby. Her curiosity about monsters is what drove her to talk to you in the first place.

Maybe you could trust her with a little bit. She had been true to her word so far; she hadn’t asked you about monsters in any of your conversations since her apology. You didn’t feel like you should count any questions after you shoved your petition in her face. “I’ve met monsters. I’m close to most of the ones I know. That’s how I know they’re not what the rumors make them out to be.”

Abby slowly set the tea she had been about to sip back onto the table and her eyes widened. “No way. You’re lying.”

“I’m telling the truth. Can’t you hear-” You caught yourself. You had almost asked Abby if she could hear the intent in your soul. Of course she couldn’t, she was human. “-hear my, um, sincerity?”

She glared at you, like she was trying to see through you and judge you at the same time. “Prove it.”

“...huh?”

“Prove it!” Abby pursed her pink lips and sat back in her tall chair. “I’m not convinced. I know you support monster rights and all that, and you’re a weirdo for it, but even if you have met a monster or two, why should I care? Are you saying that since you get along with a few that it speaks for their whole species?”

A cold feeling settled in your stomach as your opinion of Abby fell. “You asked me for a reason and I gave you one. I’ve met monsters and I know that they deserve rights just like humans do. If we flipped the situation and this was about a human country like, like France, and you told me you knew a French guy and you knew his people were being oppressed, I’d be inclined to believe you if you were being sincere.”

“The French don’t eat people, sweetie!” Abby huffed irritably and pinched at the bridge of her nose. “You’re not going to convince anyone with a lame argument like that. You can’t, or won’t, prove that you know monsters and people just don’t  _ want _ to believe they’re good.”

“Monsters don’t eat people, either!” You growled, “You know, I thought we were starting to become friends! I’m trying to trust you and your judgement, but how can I do that when you aren’t trying to do the same?”

“I am trying, you dumbass! Why do you think I’m listening to you about your dumb petition?!” Abby snapped. “You’re just being frustrating and secretive! No one is going to care at all about what you’re trying to do; people don’t like monsters! Maybe I do believe you’ve met one, maybe I do believe they might deserve rights, but I only think that because I’ve watched you argue with our professor for most of the semester like you’re trying to make him go totally bald. Not to mention you stuck to your beliefs when I berated you and then you  _ still _ didn’t give up on it after you got punched in the face by Cam! But are you seriously going to spend half a semester convincing each and every person you want to sign your petition?”

You sat there, stunned. You had thought for sure that telling Abby you knew monsters would pique her curiosity and get her to sign, but her real intent finally made itself clear. She was right. If you couldn’t convince her, how were you going to convince anyone else? “I-I’m sorry, Abby. I didn’t realize you were trying to help me.”

“For someone who can supposedly read people like neon signs in the dark, you better be sorry.” Abby huffed and sipped at her tea. 

She narrowed her eyes at you over the rim of her cup, studying you for a long moment, before she lowered the cup and tossed it over her shoulder. It missed the trash can near the cafe by a considerable distance and spilled its remains on the ground.

“You know, for all your weirdness, I admired what you did back then. Standing your ground and all. I couldn’t have done that against someone like Cam.”

“Thank you,” you said shyly, unable to meet her gaze. “I’ve, um, had practice.”

“I don’t doubt it.” Abby gave an exaggerated sigh and slid out of her tall chair. “How is it that you’re studying to help people, but you’re the worst people-person I know?”

“I can get along with people,” you shrugged and followed Abby’s lead. You did get along with people in small amounts. Maybe you hadn’t made any human friends since high school, but it wasn’t like you didn’t try. They all just… ran away once they saw your scars or they hurled insults at you and called you a freak when they saw you panic over fire or the smell of smoke or... 

You closed your eyes and took a deep breath through your nose. In your head, you silently argued with her that you got along fine with monsters. They were the only ones that had seen your scars and accepted them, not humans. Despite that, you were trying to get along with her, too. Out loud, you said, “Children and older folks seem to like me okay. And most of my professors.”

“Professors aren’t people, they’re robots programmed to give us as much homework as possible.” Abby wiggled her fingers at you, a grin tugging at her apple cheeks, and you returned a small smile. Satisfied, Abby shouldered her messenger bag and you followed suit with your backpack. “Seriously, sweetie, if you’re only able to talk to little kids and old people, no wonder you’re having a hard time getting anyone else to sign your petition. Just try to find something that grabs their attention and dangle it in front of them so they’ll listen to you. That’s what I do when I help my team sell tickets for our field events.”

“For track?” You asked, remembering Abby’s pink, velvet outfit. “Selling tickets can’t be too hard, right? Sports are a big thing for colleges.”

“You’d think that, but nobody gives a damn about track when it’s football season.” Abby waved a goodbye to you and backpedaled towards the Health Sciences building. “And if you can change my mind about your petition, maybe I’ll consider helping you on days I don’t have practice!”

~~~

It was hard to pay attention to the review in your afternoon classes. At first, it was because you were straining your brain, trying to think of a way to change Abby’s, and everyone else’s, mind about monsters. There was only one thing you could think of to grab their attention, but would it have a good or bad reaction?

Your phone buzzed in your lap and you smiled as you opened Mutt’s latest message. That was your other distraction: his conversation. Not that you were complaining. Quite the opposite, in fact. Today was the first day since high school that you were distracted because of something that made you happy. Not because of depression over the loss of your parents, not because of your anxiety that the people around you would ridicule you for your scars, but because you finally had a loved one to message for the first time in seven years.

**‘I should be done with my work by the time you get home.’** Mutt’s email said, replying to your inquiry about his day. You had also asked about what he did to your phone, but he said he wanted to stick to basic conversation until he could show you his security measures.  **‘Pap asked me if I could show him how to play that other game you got. Want to join us?’**

**‘Sure.’** You smiled, wondering if Pap would have more fun playing a single player than trying to beat his brothers in multiplayer.  **‘I’m glad you guys like the Playbox so much. You won’t play all night, will you? I was hoping I could have you to myself for awhile.’**

**‘All you have to do is ask, pretty bird.’**

**‘Consider yourself asked, then! I can finish my studying while you guys play, so would you want to watch a movie together after dinner? What kinds do you like?’**

**‘No idea. What do you think I’d like?’**

**‘Hm… maybe romance, since you’re such a flirt?’**

**‘I prefer the term ‘sultry’, thank you.’**

You giggled to yourself, drawing the stares of the students around you. One of them shushed you, and you slid down in your seat while you ignored the lecture.

**‘Or maybe you’d like sci-fi, since you like computers.’**

**‘Computers are my job now, Robin. I don’t know if I’d want to watch something that makes me think of work.’**

**‘Sci-fi isn’t just about computers, there’s space stuff, too. You might like Star Wars, now that I think about it. I’m pretty sure I picked up the first one (actually fourth.) The graphics are kind of dated, but would you want to give it a try?’**

As your class wore on, your conversation with Mutt touched a variety of subjects. You told him about Abby and your classes, he told you about Sans and Pap leaving earlier that day for the Underground, then about Pap and Axe getting into an argument in the kitchen above him. Apparently, Pap had come home from his trip and tried to put groceries away. Axe had raided the bags while Pap had his back turned.

The bodies around you started to rise from their seats in a cacophony of activity and you tucked your phone into your jacket as you shuffled out of the building with the crowd. Once you were on the path towards the campus dorms, the idea of chasing down students lingering outside on your mind, you pulled your phone back out, selected the call icon, and held the home button.

“Hey Robin,” Mutt grinned at you, his red lights shining. A pair of students passed you and you quickly brought the phone up to your ear. He chuckled and said, “You know I can’t see you with your phone against your face.”

“I’m kind of in a crowd right now,” you explained to Mutt. “Class just got out and I wanted to call you before I start petitioning.”

“For what?” his raspy voice asked. You quickly explained as you turned down another sidewalk to pass through a grove of pine trees on your way to the tall, square building in the distance. The other end of the line was quiet after your explanation and you drew your phone away from your face to check if you had disconnected.

Mutt was there on your screen, slouching in his swivel chair, stared at something off screen while his eye lights flickered sadly. You paused in your walk, your brow furrowing with concern. “Mutt? Did I say something wrong?”

“Huh? No,” Mutt glanced at the camera, saw you, and he quickly shed his melancholy look. “No, I’m just impressed you would do something like that for my kind. If anyone could convince the humans, I’m pretty sure it’s you.”

“I’m not so sure with the rate I’m getting signatures,” you said slowly, wondering why he would be upset about your petition. “Do you think it’s a bad idea?”

“I think it’s great!” Mutt smiled, but his eye lights still flickered. “I know you can do it, Robin. Before me and my bros met you, we didn’t really think much of humans. If you can convince us that humans are alright, then you can convince the humans to set us all free.”

You didn’t miss the small sigh he let escape, or the fact that he was making a bit more fuss than usual about finding his cigarettes in the pocket of his hoodie.

Understanding dawned on you as you watched him slowly pull out a small, black stick and turn it over before sticking it between his sharp teeth. Even if what you were doing worked, and the segregation law was dissolved and monsters were free to come and go from Mt. Ebott as they pleased, he would still be trapped because of his punishment by the Queens.

You glanced up at the dorm in the distance, then back at Mutt, your resolve cementing your decision. “Hey, Mutt?”

“Hm?” Mutt hummed as he flicked his lighter.

“Would you like to see where I go to school?”

“Can’t really do that.” Mutt shrugged and took a long, slow drag off his cigarette. He exhaled a plume of purple smoke as he mumbled his next words. “I’m not really supposed to leave the house, let alone the mountain.”

“Maybe you don’t have to.” You said and turned the phone around. You held it up to the side of your face, so that you could see him out of the corner of your eye but he could still see what was in front of you. “See that building? Those are the dorms I used to live in before I moved in with you.”

A glance at the screen showed you that Mutt’s cigarette hung limply in between his teeth, a look of shock on his skull. Despite this, his red lights shined brightly and you took that as a good sign. A smile tugged at your cheeks. “I’d like to give you a tour, if you have the time?”

He hesitated, then asked, “What about your petition?”

“It can wait for one afternoon, you’re more important.” You said, moving your hand in front of the camera so he could see you waving the question away. “Let me show you around my campus. You’ll be the first monster ever to see it,” you offered, trying your best to make your voice tantalizing.

“Have I ever told you how much I love you before?” Mutt asked, his eye lights hazing as he leaned back into his chair.  
You hummed, happy that you could make his world a little bigger. “You can tell me when I get home. I’ve got to start walking if I’m going to cover most of the grounds before it gets dark.”

~~~

A slow, tumbling chuckle escaped Axe as recounted your day to him. He seemed to find the idea that you had, that you didn’t remember how to get along with other humans, funny. The arm he had around your waist gave you a small squeeze and his red eye light looked up the long, dark path you hiked together back to Lane 66.

“...you’ll be fine.” Axe gave you a broad grin. You readjusted the arm you had over his shoulder to give his arm a small squeeze back. “...I know you’re… probably shy because of ...your past, but… you’re different now. ...you’re more bold… than when we… first met and… it’s good for you to… have another female to… talk to.”

You smiled, a small heat in your cheeks that had nothing to do with the hike. Axe might have strange habits, and seemed a bit too straightforward at times, but he was good at reassuring you when you needed it. It made sense; he did raise Butch, after all.

“...and don’t ...tell Milord about… Mutt’s gift.” Axe said, his tone serious as he turned his skull to look at you. “...he won’t ...like it.”

“But Mutt didn’t really do anything wrong, did he?” You asked, your stomach fluttering nervously. You were actually hoping to talk to Milord about it; Mutt’s video chat setup had given you a brilliant idea. “He made sure it was secure and he’s been really cautious about everything.”

Axe shrugged, lifting your arm up and down as he moved his shoulders. “...don’t know. ...but you know… how Milord is. ...he’s as protective… of Mutt as I am… of Butch. ...even if he does… show it differently.”

You hummed thoughtfully, wondering if it would be a better idea to talk to Mutt instead and leave Milord out of your idea for now. Speaking of ideas, there was one you still had to present to Axe, but you weren’t sure if it was a good time to bring it up. Instead, you asked, “What about you? How was your day?”

“...busy.” Axe said vaguely. You raised your eyebrow at him, curious, and he grinned at you. “...the mountain is… waking up… for spring. ...territories are changing ...and there’s new life. ...so don’t… go out alone. ...some of the creatures… are very protective… of their young.”

You smiled, feeling giddy as you remembered the family of snow owls that Axe had once showed you. At your prompting, Axe told you about his discoveries that day: the wolf pack around the mountain had already had pups wandering around, the deer herd would soon have their fawns, and there was a bear that had recently emerged from hibernation with two healthy cubs. The thought of new life made your chest warm with some unknown feeling and you excitedly turned to ask Axe, “Do you think you could show me?”

You just barely caught the dusting of red on his nasal ridge and the haze in his eye light before he turned his skull away from you and back towards the path. “...no. ...the deer are too skittish ...and the bear is aggressive. ...the wolves… used to trust me, but ...not with new pups around.”

“Oh,” you hung your head, disappointed. His caution was understandable, though, and it was still impressive that Axe could get close enough to see anything.

“...maybe later.” Axe said softly, his hand coming up to brush your cheek while the other squeezed your waist. “...things will change ...as time goes on.”

Your eyes looked over his bony features. The red color was gone, but his eye light was still soft and his teeth hovered between a vacant grin and a smile. Axe was in a really good mood and, if you were going to ask him, the time should probably be now.

“Speaking of change,” you said gently, pulling him to a stop at the start of the winding drive for Lane 66. “I wanted to… talk to you about something.”

Axe tilted his skull at you, his red light flickering with curiosity while you anxiously chewed the inside of your cheek until you found the right words.

“...did you… want something… from me?” Axe asked slowly, his eye light hazing even more as you continued to hesitate.

“Kind of,” you sighed and turned to face him, your hands finding his and your fingers intertwined with his. “It’s… about Butch and his change. I want to help him.”

Axe’s red light quickly lost its haze and he tilted his skull again. “...so do I, but… there’s not much… we can do.”

“Well, I think I know a way.” Your gaze held his and you gave his hands a nervous squeeze. “But you have to promise me you’ll hear me out.”

“...okay…?” Axe’s narrowed light glanced at your chest, at your feet as you shifted your weight to try and ease your anxiety.

“I haven’t talked to Butch about this yet,” you began slowly, but your words picked up speed as you tried to get everything out, “since I know how much you care about him and I want you’re approval, too. But… I know how much Butch worries about his ability to control his magic. I know that you and the others have tried to help and nothing has worked so far. I think… I think Butch should consider getting lessons from Edge.”

Axe froze, his red light dilating in shock. It slowly shrank back to normal size as he processed your words and started to fade in his socket. His grin fell into the beginnings of a scowl. “...no.”

“Hear me out, Axe,” you said quickly, feeling Axe squeeze your hands tightly in anger. “I know he’s a jerk, but Edge and I talked about it and he agreed to try and be as gentle as he could with Butch and-”

“...no!” Axe pulled his hands away from yours, his red light struggling to stay lit in his socket as he growled, “...I thought… you cared about Butch! ...how could you… even consider… letting Edge anywhere… near him?”

“I  _ do _ care about Butch!” You reached a hand towards Axe and he backed away, his look of disbelief hurting just as much as if he had hit you. “You know I love him, Axe, and I just want to help him! Edge knows what to do, how to teach him, and you and I can both be there to make sure everyone’s alright and-”

“...I said… no!” Axe snarled, his light finally vanishing from his socket. He didn’t even look at you before he vanished on the spot, leaving only the scent of iron behind.

You let out a heavy sigh and wrapped your arms around yourself. That definitely could have gone better. You looked up the long, winding drive back to the house and slowly started your way down the dark path. If you had waited a couple days to talk to Axe about Edge, maybe it would have gone differently, but you doubted it. Even if you had waited a week or more, you knew it was unlikely that Axe would feel any different about Edge. But if yesterday hadn’t been so fresh in Axe’s mind...

You just didn’t have a lot of time to wait; you had so much to do before your time ran out. It was hard enough trying to take care of everyone while juggling your studies and tests, along with the pressure from your petition and your experiment. Not to mention your worries about the looming war and your inevitable death… All you could do to prepare for that moment was wait until Sans finished writing out the timelines. If you could both figure out how to stop the resets…

You stopped in front of the door to look up at the brick walls of the house. You had spent all of yesterday morning thinking about it, and then later during the night about your resolve. If there was a way to stop the resets, and you still weren’t able to prevent your death, then you were going to make sure you did everything you could until then so that everyone would be alright without you.

Quietly, you turned the brass knob and slipped into the house. You’d give Axe some time to think, then, after dinner you could try talking to him again and hopefully-

You squeaked in surprise as a pair of arms scooped you off the floor and sharp teeth kissed you fiercely. You froze, your eyes wide, as Mutt nuzzled the side of your head and he squeezed you tightly.

“Welcome home, pretty bird.” his raspy voice purred into your ear. “I heard you coming and thought I’d surprise you.” 

You relaxed in his arms as you got over the shock of him jumping you. “You’re in a good mood,” you grinned as Mutt gently set you back onto the floor. You took off your backpack and let it fall beside the stairs with a dull thump.

“Hard not to be, after my day,” Mutt matched your grin as he took your leather jacket to hang up on the hook by the door. “I got to wake up to a pretty face  _ and _ she gave me a private tour of her campus? I’m starting to feel spoiled.”

A small heat rose to your cheeks and turned them pink. It was just a video tour, but it was obvious by the way Mutt grinned and took your hand that it had meant the world to him.

“Come on,” Mutt said, tugging you gently towards the living room. “While you were reading on the bus ride back, I decided to start teaching Pap how to play that other game you got us and it’s  _ hilarious. _ ”

“What is?” you asked, stumbling into the living room after Mutt. Pap sat on the floor in front of the tv, his orange tongue poking out slightly between his teeth as he focused on the game. Butch sat on the couch with his knees drawn up to his chest and, at your approach, gave a shy wave of hello before looking back to the screen.

“SON OF A BITCH!” Pap snapped as his character got mauled to death by a bear. He waved the controller like he was going to throw it, then growled and brought it back down to nest between his red mittens. Behind him, Mutt and Butch snickered together. At least Butch had the decency to cover his mouth to try and muffle the sound.

“You okay, Pap?” You asked as you came up beside him. Even sitting, Pap was so tall that his skull reached your chest.

“OH! HI HONEY!” Pap turned his skull and smiled at you. “YES, I’M FINE. I’M TRYING TO TAME A BEAR.”

“Tame a bear?” You repeated, picking up the case for Red Dead Redemption 2 while Mutt snickered behind you again. “Can you do that?”

“MUTT SAYS YOU CAN DO ANYTHING YOU WANT IN THIS GAME SINCE IT’S SOMETHING CALLED A ‘SANDBOX’.” Pap said as he started a new life for his character and ran around the virtual world. “...EVEN THOUGH I HAVEN’T SEEN MUCH SAND ANYWHERE.” Pap added, his bony brow furrowed.

You slowly turned your head and glared at Mutt.

“What?” He asked, a mischievous grin on his skull. He raised his hands up to defend himself as he said, “Since the horses are wild until you tame them, Pap wanted to know if you could tame other wild animals to ride. I said I didn’t know and he should try to find out.”

“IT’S VERY DIFFICULT,” Pap told you proudly, his thumbs twiddling over the controller through his mittens. “BUT WHEN I ACCOMPLISH IT, MUTT WILL HAVE TO ADMIT THAT I’M THE BETTER GAMER, DESPITE MY DEFEAT DURING THE TOURNAMENT.”

“Well, Mutt?” You asked, turning to him and putting your hands on your hips while Pap played beside you. “Do you think you could tame a bear?”

Mutt laughed, “Hell no! It’s impossible!”

“WELL, MAYBE FOR YOU,” Pap smiled as he guided his avatar through the woods in search of another bear. “BUT NOT FOR THE GREAT- OH COME ON!” He snarled as his character promptly got mauled again.

You chewed on your lip, wondering if you should break the news to Pap and out Mutt’s prank on him. “Pap,” you said gently, putting a hand on his shoulder while Pap simmered with frustration from yet another character death, “you do know that bears are wild, right? You can’t ride them.”

“YES, BUT SO ARE THE HORSES UNTIL YOU TAME THEM.” Pap grumbled as he started yet another life in game. “WHY RIDE A HORSE ANYWAY? THEY MIGHT BE FAST, BUT THEY’RE USELESS IN A FIGHT AND THEY GET SCARED EASILY BY THE OTHER CREATURES. BUT A  _ BEAR _ -” Pap’s face lit up as he turned to look at you, his white lights shining, “WOULD BE THE  _ COOLEST _ .”

“we… told him to just… stick to the horses.” Butch quietly told you as you took a seat on the couch between him and Mutt to watch Pap play. “but he’s… being stubborn… about it.”

“It could be an unlockable feature,” Mutt said thoughtfully, moving his arm to drape over the back of the couch behind you and Butch. “In Skyrim, you could ride horses right away, but if you got far enough along in one of the DLC portions it let you ride dragons.”

“That’s a fantasy game, though,” you sighed, watching Pap once again chase down a bear and have his effort fail. “I bought Red Dead because I thought you guys would enjoy the realism from it; it’s actually based on the old West.”

“No kidding?” Mutt’s bony brow raised in surprise. “You mean humans actually used to live like that? I thought riding horses was just a fantasy trope.”

“Nope,” you shook your head, looking back and forth between Mutt and Butch’s curious, flickering lights. “A couple hundred years ago, that’s how humans got around.”

“I THOUGHT HUMANS DROVE CARS?” Pap asked, glancing over his shoulder at you. “NONE OF THE BOOKS I HAVE SAY THAT HUMANS EVER RODE ON ANIMALS.”

“Well, they drive now, but that’s a relatively recent invention.” You scratched your head, trying your best to remember some history. It was never your strongest subject in school, so you couldn’t recall any names or dates. “I think it was… less than a hundred years ago? But before that, humans used all kinds of animals to get around. Horses, mainly, but I know other cultures used camels and ostriches...”

“what are… those?” Butch asked, his skull tilted.

“Well, a camel is like a horse, but tan and with a hump on its back,” you scratched your chin thoughtfully. As you got up from the couch, to investigate the stack of plastic cases by the Playbox, you said, “You know, I’m pretty sure I picked up a nature documentary about African wildlife. It’ll have footage of them; we can pop it in when Pap’s done playing and you can see for yourself.”

“What about your studies?” Mutt asked as you picked out the dvd.

“I can still do that here.” You smiled back at him. “I’ll sit on the floor and spread out my books. It’ll be more fun to be with you guys than alone in my room anyway.”

“I’ll go… get Axe,” Butch got up from the couch, a wide grin on his skull. “he’d like… seeing something… like that.”

Your insides chilled as you watched Butch wander out of the living room. Axe was already angry with you because you brought up Edge. What if he told Butch about what you said and Butch got upset with you, too?

“WHAT’S WRONG, HONEY?” Pap asked, turning from the game to watch as you anxiously straightened the stack of plastic cases.

“It’s nothing,” you said quickly, hoping he wouldn’t ask more about it. You had been hoping to talk Axe into going along with your plan before talking to Butch so he knew he would have both of your support. If Butch heard about it from Axe and thought you were trying to go behind his back…

“You know you can tell us, right?” Mutt offered gently, his red eye lights flickering as he watched you.

“I’m fine, really,” you shook your head and made your way towards the stairs. You didn’t want to talk about this with anyone else, not when there was a chance that you and Axe could still work things out privately. “I’m just… going to grab my books.”

Once you were alone in the entrance hall, you sighed heavily and kicked off your boots. One of your hands came up to pull at your face as you stared up the staircase, wondering if you should go up to try and Axe and Butch. Trying to talk to Axe too soon hadn’t ended well, so would giving them space now be better?

You chewed your lip, not liking the thought of leaving the matter be for now. At least, you thought as you dragged your heavy bag towards the living room, you would know soon if Butch was upset with you too if he didn’t come back down.

~~~

Butch never did come back down.

You laid on your belly across the wood floor and focused on your books, trying your best to distract yourself from your anxious thoughts. You could talk to both of them later. Surely Butch hadn’t returned because he and Axe were talking about your suggestion? Maybe they weren’t taking it as well as you were hoping, but at least it was out in the open now.

After dinner, you reminded yourself as you closed your eyes. You could try to talk to them after dinner. Axe had never missed a meal before, and Butch only missed two if you didn’t count the time his color was changing. That was way back when you first met; back when he was too shy to be in the same room as you, and the other was the night he told you about his past.

As you pressed your palms into your eyes, staring at the dark behind your lids, you tried to refocus your mind. They just needed time to think, and you needed to test yourself on definitions and theories. Or, at the very least, not listen to the movie Pap and Mutt were watching.

_ “There’s a saying in England,” _ a deep voice said from the soundbar below the tv, interrupting your thoughts,  _ “Where there’s smoke, there’s fire.” _

You started to chew your lip again and redoubled your efforts to focus on Yung’s theory of the collective unconscious instead of on James Bond. When Butch made it clear he wasn’t going to come back down, Pap picked out ‘From Russia With Love’ to watch instead of the Africa documentary. 

“ARE YOU SURE YOU DON’T WANT TO TAKE A BREAK, HONEY?” Pap asked you again from his spot on the couch. This had to be the third time since the movie started and, while you knew he meant well, it was starting to irritate you. “YOU’RE SOUL IS MAKING THESE FRUSTRATED KEENING NOISES.”

“It does that when I study,” you said, aware that you were being a little too nippy and feeling bad about your tone as soon as it left you. To try and make up for it, you explained, “Yung is a convoluted asshat who thinks way too much of himself; I don’t care if he’s the founder of analytical psychology.”

“Speaking of convoluted asshats…” Mutt grumbled irritably. You curiously lifted your gaze to him, saw him glaring across the living room, and quickly turned the other way to see Milord standing stiffly in the entryway. 

“Zeta,” Milord said coolly, his purple eye lights darting between you on the floor and the couch that Pap and Mutt shared. “I require a moment of your time.”

“CAN’T IT WAIT?” Pap asked as Milord turned on his heel, expecting you to follow. Milord paused and focused his gaze on Pap. “HONEY’S STUDYING AND WE’RE IN THE MIDDLE OF A MOVIE.”

“My schedule does not accommodate your leisurely distractions,” Milord narrowed his eye lights at Mutt’s snort of amusement, but chose to ignore it as he continued, “nor do you require her presence when she is obviously preoccupied with her own endeavors.”

“It’s fine, Pap,” you said as you slowly got to your feet and dusted off the black bell of your dress. “I’ve seen this one before, I won’t miss anything. And Milord is busy too, he wouldn’t pull me away from studying unless it was important, right?”

“Obviously.” Milord coldly replied.

Leaving your books scattered across the floor, you followed Milord from the living and, to your surprise, he started to lead you back up the oak staircase.

“Did you find out something about the law?” you asked curiously, a small bubble of hope rising in your chest. It would be nice to have some good news, something to help keep you positive despite the frustrations with your petition and your studies, and now your argument with Axe.

“Nothing yet that will assist us.” Milord said as his short, clipped steps brought you both to the door of his room. With a flick of his wrist, his lavender magic clicked the lock open and he offered you the way as the door swung inward. “My inquiry pertains to something else entirely.”

“Did something happen today?” you asked, your hope bubble bursting against a sharp spike of anxiety. Milord motioned for you to sit on his bed and, as you complied, he stood before you while the door clicked shut.

“No, this regards the events of yesterday,” he said, his arms coming to rest behind his back in the military style of one at attention. “I am not upset about what transpired,” he shook his skull as you opened your mouth, silencing you, “nor am I harboring any resentment from Sans’ obvious display of affection towards you. What I am concerned about, Zeta, are your intentions with Red.”

“Red?” you repeated, blinking in surprise as Milord nodded.

“Precisely,” he said, his voice like ice as his purple lights narrowed at you. “You do recall the warning I gave you?”

“Which one?” you asked, your hands nervously picking at the knot of your wrap around dress. “You’ve given me more than a few.”

A small smirk tugged at Milord’s sharp teeth. The bed bounced ever so slightly as he sat next to you, his eye lights softening. “While I’m pleased that you’ve retained my previous statements, the one I am referring to has to do with Red in particular. With this clear, I repeat: what are your intentions with him?”

Your stomach twisted into a knot and you looked towards the wooden floor to avoid Milord’s gaze. “I mean… I do care about him,” you admitted, knowing that it wouldn’t do any good to lie. 

“Obviously,” Milord pinched the bone of his nasal ridge and gave an exasperated sigh. “You hold some level of affection for each member of his house. Even Edge, though you display this through a lack of resentment each time you gaze at him despite his many affronts towards you.”

“Then I don’t understand…?” you said slowly, then quickly leaned away from Milord as he snarled at you.

“The problem lies with his intent towards you!” He snapped, his eye lights starting to fade from his sockets in anger. “I warned you that you need to stay away from Red and you should have made this realization on your own after he tore into you! He is violent, manipulative, and has a complete disregard for that which does not benefit him. He is clearly interested in you, Zeta, I’m not such a fool that I haven’t noticed the start of his mark on you or the way he acted towards Sans yesterday! If Papyrus had not held him down, Red would have fought Sans simply for touching you!”

“That’s not true!” You snapped back, narrowing your eyes in anger. “I know he has problems with his temper, but Red can be considerate when he wants to be! Even before we became friends, he stopped using his magic around me because he knew it scared me. He feels terrible for hurting me, I know he does, and he tries so hard to show the things he can’t say-”

“Listen. To. Me.” Milord grabbed you by the shoulders and shook you once, silencing you as you tried to go on. The light was barely in his sockets and you knew from the crackling frost in his voice that was trying to keep from shouting. “I know Red and what he is capable of more intimately than any other member of this household. I was the one who chased him for decades during his crime spree in the Underground. The only reason Red lives in this house is because I refused to let a boss wander the surface freely after his banishment!”

You stilled, the weight of Milord’s words hitting you like a punch to the face. “He was… banished from the Underground?”

Milord pulled at his face with a gloved hand, covering his sockets, and an exasperated sigh escaped between his sharp teeth. “Yes. Against my recommendation.”

“For what?”

The glove fell just enough to let Milord look at you with his flickering eye lights. “Those records are sealed.”

“Milord,” you said firmly, your hand coming to rest on his shoulder, “I know a lot of things I shouldn’t and I’ve already promised to not say anything. Don’t you trust me?”

His hand fell and he slowly leaned forward until his elbows were resting on his knees. His purple eye lights stared at the wall opposite, at the framed metals that covered the wall, and he sighed. “Yes. Perhaps more than anybody else. However, the more information I give you, the more danger you’re in if anyone ever finds out. You realize this?”

“I do,” you nodded, “but if you don’t tell me, you know that I’ll try to find everything else out on my own.”

“You are obnoxiously curious like that, aren’t you?” Milord sighed again and leaned back onto the bed on his elbows. “Very well, I’ll explain, but only what I feel you need to understand. Red’s punishment, in the official documents, was given due to smuggling. However, he has a long history of crimes that I was never able to successfully pin on him. Destruction of city property, mainly, but also extortion, forgery, bribery, assault, torture, and murder. In essence, all of the qualities that make up a boss.”

Your hands came up to rub at the goosebumps that appeared over your arms. That didn’t seem like Red at all. He did, once, tell you that he was a bad person, but you never thought it was for something like… torture and murder. “When… you say boss… you mean like a mafia boss?”

“Precisely.” Milord nodded, “I’m glad you understand the concept. It is true that Red, at one point, had most of the criminals of Fell City under his thumb. He was in charge of it all and was impossible to catch. Mutt was unable to obtain footage of him, you see, since Red had an uncanny knack for finding his cameras and disposing of them. Since I had no concrete evidence, the Queens would not pin the blame on any one monster until undeniable proof was presented.”

“Then… how did you catch him?” you asked, your voice quiet.

“We didn’t.” Milord huffed and sat back up. “It was Edge that gave me the evidence I needed to prosecute Red.”

“Edge?” You repeated in disbelief. Why would Edge do that, when he had told you that protecting his brothers was the thing that was most important to him? Didn’t he realize Red could’ve been killed for his crimes? “But… I thought Red was the one that brought Edge to the Guard?”

“You are correct.” Milord nodded. “I was not present at the time, but the trainer’s report to me stated that Red approached with Edge and, though he didn’t offer gold as payment, he stated that if Edge was taken in, the crime rate in Fell City would drop. I found this suspicious, but it was not an uncommon offer. Many monsters of the City would bring their dependents to the Guard in order to keep them off the streets. Since this gave us lifelong soldiers, we complied with their wishes.

Indeed, true to Red’s word, the crime rate in the City fell drastically during our first few weeks with Edge. At first, my underlings suspected Edge himself was behind it all, but he lacked the subtly that laced the boss I was after. Edge was explosive, crude, and had problems with both cooperation and authority. He preferred to operate alone and loathed the thought of being dependent on a group or partner. He would never have the discipline to run an organization like a boss could.

As it was soon made evident, Edge’s problems were so drastic that eventually none of the trainers could hope to contain him. Even Undyne, our best trainer by far and a specialist in the more unusual cases, was unable to reign in his temper or his power. He was handed over to me personally to be subdued and molded. The Guard did not want to get rid of him; he was far too powerful to be left unchecked and, though he may not look or act like it, Edge is a genius when it comes to learning and utilizing new battle strategies. He masters new forms and techniques as naturally as walking, though his problem with following other kinds of instruction persisted. 

I can guess, simply by what I had to deal with during that time, how much damage Red did to Edge’s mind. Even after he became my personal charge he would only ever focus if I was teaching him a new way of utilizing his magic. Without that focus, he became a destructive maelstrom to everything around him. It was the greatest test of patience I’ve ever had in my career to force restraint into his actions. The Edge you know today is quite tame compared to what he once was.”

Milord fell silent and fidgeted with the fingertips on his glove. You leaned against his side, one of your hands finding his and giving them a comforting squeeze as you gently prompted, “What happened then?”

“Decades later,” Milord said quietly as his fingers intertwined with yours, “the crime rate was on the rise once more. However, this time, it was not the coordinated movements of a boss, but rather the chaotic disarray that Fell City had always been for hundreds of years prior. By examining what wasn’t there, I understood that Red seemed to have retired after giving us Edge. His absence was causing others to fight for his place of power, but I still did not have any evidence against him nor the ability to seek it out with all the new criminals running amok.

I directed my underlings to recapture order within the City; all except Edge. It had taken a great deal of effort to instill discipline in him, yet even after all that, he still would not listen to orders unless they came directly from me and I could not trust him to coordinate with the rest of the Guard on the ground without my presence. You’ve seen for yourself how he speaks to me when we’re at home. He’ll never truly submit; he only listens to me because he wants to. Perhaps, at some point, I earned his respect, but that did not change the fact that he was untrustworthy. I ordered him to stay within the Palace. He did not listen. He disappeared for over a week. I’m ashamed to admit that I have no idea of his movements or actions since then.

Then… the day came that Edge returned and approached me in my office.” Milord’s voice lost it’s frosty undertone and fell to a whisper. “He wanted to make a deal with me. He knew I had been hunting the boss of Fell City for a long time despite their supposed disappearance. This was around the time where I had begun the paperwork for us to live on the surface. Edge said, if I gave him what he wanted, then he would give me what I had been searching for. I was furious. It was insubordination to hide a criminal of that caliber from the Captain, no matter the circumstances. Queen Toriel herself had to break our fight apart.

With her aid, the deal was eventually struck and it was this: If I ensured the life of the criminal Edge was protecting, then he would give personal testimony to one of his crimes to the Queens. Queen Toriel, who was present at the time of this discussion, overruled my desire for a death sentence and was the one to suggest banishment.”

When Milord fell silent again, you couldn’t help but hesitate. There was a question you wanted to ask, but at the same time, you didn’t want to know the answer. After a long moment, you whispered, “What… did Edge say was Red’s crime?”

His fingers squeezed yours tightly and his purple lights found your eyes. They flickered sadly in his sockets and Milord mumbled, “Human trafficking.”

A cold feeling that had nothing to do with Milord’s magic filled you. “But… I thought… there was a barrier?”

“True, but the barrier only prevented what was trapped inside from getting out. It did not prevent external beings from entering.” Milord glanced at you, his purple lights narrowed with concern. “It was a rare occurrence, but humans occasionally fell below the mountain through one of its many concealed entrances. The main one that exists now is under surveillance, but only someone like Red, with his old network of criminal contacts, would have had the ability to find these spots and observe them. Due to the rarity of humans in the Underground, one would have fetched a very high price on the black market.”

Your chest felt tight and it was hard to breathe. Didn’t Red say, after he started to teach you Font, that he would take you to the Underground? Was this the reason why; to sell you? “No… that can’t be right.”

“It is unfortunate,” Milord placed a gentle hand on your arm as you started to shake. “Though the Queens have taken measures against it. Queen Toriel, in particular, has a love of humans that influences her decisions greatly. It is my understanding that, before her own son perished, that she and the King adopted a human child who fell. While humans are not popular among monsters, this is not the overwhelming consensus.”

“Then why?” You looked up, grabbing Milord’s gaze and holding. “Why would monsters want to buy humans?”

Milord looked away. “You don’t need to know-”

“Tell me!” You snapped, grabbing the front of his jacket and pulling him around to face you. “Please, don’t let me imagine the worst. Why would they buy one if they hate humans?!”

A grimace formed on Milord’s skull and he hesitated. “Primarily… to feast upon the well of magic in your souls. To have pets and playthings that are weak enough to be subdued but intelligent enough to be tormented. Many wish to reenact their entrapment and suffering out upon their purchases. This is why, despite the barrier being gone, the Queens allow very few monsters onto the surface for the time being. There is no hope of peace while their subjects harbor such resentment. This is why I fear that, if our attempts to persuade the populace continue to fail, eventually Queen Scotch will be allowed to act on her plan.”

You wrapped your arms around yourself to try and hide your violent shudders. Is that why Edge called you Pet? He only saw you as a bought human, as a plaything for him and his brothers? Is that how he knew his first human, that girl? Did Red bring Edge one to keep him company in their apartment while he was out being a mobster in his home city?

“Understand that I did not encourage your petition for those kinds of reasons,” Milord said stiffly, his hand coming up to brush your cheek in an attempt to sooth your frayed nerves. You pulled away, still confused as to how you should feel about this new information. “As I said,” Milord continued coolly, “that is not the general consensus of the population. The majority of District One favors human cohabitation as does-”

“Why keep him here?” you asked quietly. Milord paused and tilted his skull. You ground your teeth in anger and repeated what you said, “Why keep Red here after everything he did, everyone he hurt?”

Milord sighed and ran a hand over the top of his skull. “Queen Toriel made a promise to Edge for Red’s life. She is very much like you, Zeta: promises are sacred to her. I cannot act against the wishes of Royalty so I did the next best thing that had both Queen Toriel’s and my interests in mind. When I submitted my request for us to live on the surface, I added Red’s name to the list. If he lived with us, I argued, he could not run amok with the human population. Under my surveillance, he could not escape or find his way back to the Underground to regain power by supplying his old circle with humans and potentially turning into an even bigger menace than before.”

“Do you really think he’d try?”

“It is within the realm of possibility,” Milord shrugged. “Red has yet to act as if he is being lured by his old temptations if you don’t take into account his unruly nature. He rarely leaves his room and when he does he stays within the boundaries of the property. Despite this, do not let down your guard, Zeta. Monsters have very long memories.”

“What about you?” you mumbled quietly, looking at Milord out of the corner of your eye. “Do you… see me as a pet?”

“Of course not!” Milord snapped, his sockets going dark. “I’m telling you all this, aren’t I? I’ve placed my trust in you, coordinated my efforts with you, because I view you as an equal! I could never have placed my mark on you if I viewed you as a mere plaything!”

“But marks only show commitment-” you began, but were quickly cut off by a growl of anger from Milord as he jumped to his feet.

“It is the intent behind it!” Milord snarled, jabbing a gloved finger at your face. “If I did not care for you deeply, if I did not have the desire to protect you and provide for you, I could never have produced that particular scent to leave on you! For heaven’s sake, Zeta, I wouldn’t have accepted your mark unless I recognized you as a dominant force that I desired in my life! A mark cannot be made with false intent!”

You shrank back, not meaning to have made him so angry, but after everything he had said, after all the confusion, you had to make sure. “I’m… sor-”

“Don’t.” Milord put a finger over your lips and looked away, sighing heavily. “Don’t apologize. I understand your wariness. I desired it. Just not for me.”

His hand fell to the side of your face, the soft leather of his thumb caressing your cheek. He looked up and his soft purple lights were back in his sockets.

“I… truly love you, Zeta,” he admitted quietly. “I cannot always be there for you so please, protect yourself and be wary. Your kind and trusting nature is one of the things that has attracted me to you but it is also your greatest weakness. Now that you know all this, will you promise me that you’ll keep it in mind?”

You slowly nodded and the corners of his teeth turned up in the barest hint of a smile.

“Good.” He mumbled, his thumb coming to brush over your bottom lip. “Now... may I?”

You nodded again, understanding what he wanted though that simple touch, and closed your eyes as he gently kissed you. You sighed into him, wanting the comfort to distract you from your whirlwind of thoughts.

But was Red really like that? Had he really been like some mafia don, a boss, before becoming banished? Did he really-

Milord pulled away and cleared his nonexistent throat. You opened your eyes to a light, lavender flush across his nasal ridge.

“I can hear that you’re still upset,” he said, giving your chest a gentle brush with his finger. “It’s precisely why I chose not to speak of this to you this morning. Though I understand that comforting someone is not my strongest trait, I… wish to offer what I can do to you, if you desire it.”

You blinked as the lavender flush deepened and the realization of what Milord was offering hit you. You turned pink and looked away towards his dark sheets.

“I’m sorry, not now,” you mumbled. “I… just want to think about all this.”

“Very well,” Milord nodded and brushed a finger over his color, as if he could wipe it away. “Would you like to stay here or to return downstairs?”

“I’d rather be alone, if that’s okay,” you said, twisting the cords from your dress between your fingers. “I’ll just… grab my books and go study in my room.”

“No need, I’ll take care of it.” Milord waved your words away and offered his hand to you. He explained, at your confused look, “If Mutt and Papyrus hear your discomfort, they will inquire about it. I’ll bring you directly to your room and take care of the rest personally.”

You nodded again and took his hand, grateful that Milord understood enough to not ask you about your thoughts. As the pressing darkness and the smell of frost released you, you asked Milord while sitting down on your cream covered sheets, “Why do you think Red calls Edge ‘boss’?”

Milord’s purple lights flickered in surprise, then he shrugged. “I cannot explain Red’s reasoning. Though if I had to guess, it is used ironically or as a verbal jab. Being a boss is nothing to be proud of, Zeta.”

He released your hand and vanished in a plume of frost, leaving you alone with your thoughts. You sighed and fell onto your back, letting your arms lay wide over the expanse of your sheets.

It didn’t make sense to you. If Red had been so terrible, why would the Queens let him go with just banishment? Mutt had done so much less, by hacking into their network, so why was he the one to get the death sentence and not Red? While you didn’t think Milord would lie to you, you didn’t feel like the Queens, even Toriel, would be so forgiving, not after everything you had heard about them. Did they really think so little of humans?

The rest was almost too hard to think about. You pressed your hands into your eyes, searching the lights that popped in the dark behind your lids for answers. Red had shown true remorse that night with you, when he accidentally tore into your back during his grief. He had tried so hard to apologize to you after how he made you feel when you first wore your sundress. If he had bought and sold humans, had tortured and killed his fellow monsters, why would he act like that?

Milord had said he was manipulative. But Red seemed genuinely sorry, he even hesitated to touch you after he saw your blood on his fingers for the fear of hurting you again.

What if that was all a trick? He admitted he wanted to take you to the Underground after you mastered Font, which would make sense if he was trying to sell you to a monster. He wanted you to drink with him, to see you all “loose” as he put it. Was that… to see how easy you’d be to subdue?

He was just trying to spend time with you. Hadn’t he been so stubborn at first, so secretive and unwilling to let you in so that you had to fight him for just a basic kind of friendship? Wasn’t the first thing he admitted to you was that he didn’t want to be alone?

What if he just wanted you to work for it? You wouldn’t have trusted him like you did if he had made it too easy for you. But he did try going out of his way for you, he stopped using his magic around you. He protected you against Edge more than once and stood up for Butch in your place.

But what about Edge? You took your hands away and stared up at the high, angled ceiling above you. Red had asked you, practically begged you, not to give up on his brother. He admitted he didn’t do the best by him, but what had he actually done to him? Edge said Red had left him alone and barely raised him. Milord said that Edge was out of control by the time he first met him. So what the hell did Red do to Edge to turn him into the angry, distrusting, violent guy you knew now? Red admitted himself, once:  _ I turned him into me. _

Red, when he spoke to you that night, made you think that Edge was the way he was because of that girl; that human they lived with. He had said that when he had come back, she was gone and Edge had his color changed and you thought that it was all because of her. 

What if it was really because of Red?

A growl escaped you and you sat up as you bit at your lip. You winced, tasting blood as you finally broke the skin and your tongue darted out to lick the droplet away.

Red had made you think that he cared for his brother the most. He made you think he cared about  _ you _ and that made you furious. If Red cared about Edge, he never would have let him hurt so much. If he cared about you, he wouldn’t have let you get close, not after everything he had done.

But didn’t he try his hardest to push you away? Wasn’t it you that told him he needed to forgive himself and let someone in so he didn’t have to be alone?

You got up and started pacing back and forth, trying to vent your frustration. He had sold humans. You could possibly forgive everything else with some kind of explanation, but he had bought and sold people like they were  _ fucking pets. _

And he just sat there. You stilled, recalling that night where Edge had first called you that. Red sat next to him at the table, completely silent while Edge tormented you, called you Pet and asked if you should wear a collar while Red looked away and his skull turned crimson.

Your hands curled up into fists and shook from your rage. And you let him kiss you. You let him hold you and touch you and  _ he fucking got off on the thought of you as a pet. _

What was that he said to you? That night you would’ve let him claim you?  _ Yer th’ first one teh get me on my back, an’ I like it. _

Son of a bitch, you swore to yourself, your face red with rage. You weren’t the first. You weren’t the first human he wanted to fight him like that and  _ mother fucking son of a- _

Your eyes found the large, plastic case in the corner and you ran over to it, giving it a swift kick. You swore loudly as your toes throbbed with pain and the case toppled over, banging loudly as it hit the wooden floor and you hopped around while holding your foot.

You sat on your bed, your eyes watering from the pain both physically and from the twist in your heart. Red made it so clear that he hated liars, you never could have guessed he was such a good one himself. He even somehow managed to fool Pap, who said Red had given you a mark. 

But marks were only given with the right intent behind them.

You sniffed and wiped at your eye. Red had done such a good job convincing you. He made it seem like he was such a terrible liar, the way he would look away and flush crimson every time he “lied”. 

That was just another trick, wasn’t it?


	26. Ch 24 - On Your Mind

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey lovelies!
> 
> I know it's been a while between updates; I'm sorry about that. There's a lot going on right now and honestly I just don't think I can maintain a weekly scheduled update at this point. Of course I want to try for that, but realistically with my new job, writer's block, and other projects I just don't think I can promise that anymore. I'm not leaving the story, so please be patient with me! (and thank you for your understanding!)
> 
> Speaking of other projects, one of them is a story crossover with the lovely Mother_Mortician! Here's the URL below so you can check out the story, if you like. It has our lovely MC (named Willow for this) and Axe, along with Steven Universe and the Pines family from Gravity Falls! The links for both of the original story are in the crossover, so please check it and Mortician's work out! :D
> 
> https://archiveofourown.org/works/25516630/chapters/61907446

Ch 24 - On Your Mind

The hot water sloshed gently as you sank into its warmth. You closed your eyes as you let the steam in your bathroom caress your face with the soft lavender scent of your bath bomb. You let your body slide down the smooth, white ceramic of the bathtub, completely submerging everything but your face into the comforting heat, and stared thoughtfully at the black tile on the ceiling.

Your fingertips trailed over the softening scars on your legs as you soaked, trying to relax your body as well as the pressure in your overwhelmed mind. The lavender helped; it made you think of the comfort you knew when you had burned your incense. Of Sans laying next to you, of the small delight from getting home from the mall with new things, of Butch drawing you as you laid on your back on the bed, watching the purple stick and its curling smoke as you tried to keep still. Those thoughts lead you to think of other good things; of Pap and his advice, of Mutt and his helpfulness, and of Milord and his guidance...

Thinking about what Milord said brought your mind back to the painful place you had been trying to avoid: your thoughts about Red. You closed your eyes and the cool voice in your head faded until you heard nothing except the warm water filling your ears. The water muffled everything except for the small movements of the water as you adjusted yourself and the beat of your heart. You took a deep breath and slowly let it out, trying to let go of your shock and anger and the invisible weight on your shoulders so you could think.

It hurt to think about who Red used to be. Your arms slowly moved to wrap around your body, to hug yourself beneath the water, as you tried to understand how you felt now that you knew. It was true that you were angry at the thought of Red hurting his fellow monsters like that and you were disgusted that he would buy and sell humans.

But you also believed everyone deserves a second chance. You didn’t know why Red did those things. Maybe he was an awful person, like he claimed to be, but maybe he didn’t have a choice. It was hard to believe someone that cared who so much about his brother could be heartless. Maybe Red turned to crime to save Edge. After all, Axe had killed others to save Butch.

Your thoughts, calmed into rationality by the presence of water and lavender, drifted to Axe. He and Butch were forced to do terrible things in their past. You knew from Butch’s story that Axe had torn the souls out of many of his fellow monsters and that he and Butch had essentially turned into cannibals for awhile. You knew Butch had killed a human to devour the magic in their soul to save Axe, but that one single kill had haunted him to the point it reflected in his magic. You also remembered your own thoughts after you had heard their story: that if you hadn’t known the context of their actions, you would have been horrified. 

So what about Red? Were you missing some big piece that helped all of his past actions make sense? You opened your eyes and turned your head to stare through the steam towards the bathroom door. 

The knowledge you had gained from your studies told you that most career criminals started down that path because they had no other choice. It made sense; you knew that the Underground was a difficult place to live. There wasn’t enough food, it was overpopulated, and the Queens were ruthless in the enforcement of their laws. For humans, at least, when criminals were caught and sent to jail, it was likely they would return to illicit activities after serving their sentence unless they were properly rehabilitated. The exceptions were usually those that suffered from mental illness. Even then, those people could be helped given time and resources. It seemed like monsters weren’t always given a second chance and they definitely didn’t have resources.

Milord had said that Red, since coming to the surface, had never acted like he had been tempted to return to his old ways. He also didn’t seem upset when you admitted you had liked Red; his only concern was Red’s true intentions towards you. It had crossed your mind that Milord might be holding a grudge against Red for evading capture for so long, but if that was the case then you were sure Milord would have used any excuse to convict him. Red’s temper alone would’ve been more than enough for someone clever to reopen his case.

And you knew Red wanted to forget what he had done.  _ ‘not enough.’  _ he had said. That night you had found him, blackout drunk, he was reaching for the things that he wanted for comfort. Mainly chocolate and mustard, but also company. Recently, he admitted to you that he loved music because it gave him comfort and didn’t ask questions. Ever since you gave him the cd player, you had yet to see him without those headphones over his skull or around his neck. You could tell the music helped him dampen his anger and he seemed so much happier with it. 

His overall actions told you that he was trying to self medicate. What was he trying so hard to escape from? His own choices and actions or whatever circumstances that might’ve forced him to do those things? Or was that the only way he figured out how to keep himself from falling back to his old tendencies?

You considered again the actions Red had made since you had known him. Remorse and reluctance, a desire to keep everyone away while at the same time yearning to never be alone. You felt that his hesitation to touch you, to not hurt you, was genuine. You felt the same about his desire to protect you and help you in his own way. 

If Red hated liars so much, why would he lie? He always made it clear when he didn’t want to talk about something or when he didn’t want to answer a question of yours. He got angry when you asked him how to lie in Font and seemed so terrible at lying himself. 

In the moment, in your shock and anger, you feared that he had been planning on selling you. The signs were there, but were those really his true intentions? If he hated humans so much, how could he ever let himself care for you? It was still possible he saw humans as objects, but if his reluctance and eventual affection was all an act to get you to let down your guard, it was a pretty big act. Only a psychopath could keep up such a lie for that long without slip ups and Red lacked certain traits that would have him fall under that label. He was able to recognize other people’s distress (his reaction when he said the wrong thing about your scars,) the relationships he formed weren’t shallow or fake (the only thing he ever really asked you for was to care for Edge, and he promised to pay any price for that,) he didn’t display cold-hearted behavior (he stood up for Butch without you asking,) and had acted like he genuinely cared for you. He tried his best to comfort you when you were stressed; he had offered the one thing he had that might’ve helped: his music. He didn’t try to take advantage of you when you were vulnerable. He had even held himself back to make sure his taste didn’t scare you when he finally understood your fear of fire.

Your hands came up to brush your hair out under the water, the touch calming you as your emotions roiled beneath the surface like a stormy sea. That touch reminded you of Mutt and you wondered if he knew everything Milord did about Red. You couldn’t imagine that he didn’t; wasn’t it Mutt’s job to gather information for the Guard? What if it was Mutt that gave Milord all the information he did have on Red during that long investigation?

And if Mutt knew everything that Milord did, why had he helped you get close to Red when you first moved in? He had told you when he thought Red liked you, he advised you to look at Red’s actions instead of his words. If Mutt knew about Red’s past, and how dangerous he could still be, would he have tried to help you?

Maybe Mutt, as the only other member of the house to undergo punishment by the Queens, knew how much a second chance would mean to Red. If Red really was trying to change, should you even bring up the fact that you knew his crimes?

A heavy sigh escaped you and you sat up in the water, wringing out your hair as you glanced at the clearing mirror. The water was still slightly warm, but your fingers were wrinkled and you knew you had been in there a long time. It helped, the bath, and you felt much more sure about your choice.

You would keep silent for now, you thought resolutely as you drained the water and reached for a fluffy, white towel. You wouldn’t say anything to Red, but you would try to find out more. He didn’t know that you knew and you would be guarded until he proved to you that you could trust him again. If he was lying to you and had ulterior motives, then confronting him about his past wouldn’t do anything to help. If he really was trying to change, then you would give him that chance.

You knew you were putting off what you had to do, but you honestly didn’t know if you could take having another weight on your mind. The stress from everything was starting to get to you and you remembered Professor Pierce’s warning about a mental break. You knew that eventually you would have to talk to Red and you would do so when you were in a better state of mind. It would be better to deal with this after midterms, or after you made up to Axe and Butch and they weren’t angry with you anymore. You would get an explanation from Red after you restarted your experiment, or found a way to get more signatures on your petition, or got some work done with Sans on the reset issue. 

A painful twinge pulled at your temples and your hands flew up to hold your head. The light in the bathroom seemed suddenly too bright and you groaned as you knelt on the cool tile on the floor. You could feel your heartbeat in your brain and you tried to breathe deep through your nose, to fill yourself with the calming smell of lavender as you tried to ignore the spots of light flashing on the back of your eyelids.

You opened your eyes into a squint and looked over your shoulder at the draining tub. It wouldn’t take too long to refill it. The hot water was enough to melt your troubles away for a small moment; but only for a moment. You opened the cupboard beneath the sink and popped a couple of pain relief pills into your mouth. Mom had always told you that she saw flashing lights before her migraines. As you remembered her curled up in her bed, moaning from pain, you prayed that wasn’t what was happening to you.

Holding your head in one hand, you wrapped the towel around you, held your dirty clothes in one hand, and opened the door. What you needed was quiet and someplace dark to relax. No stress, no strain or worries, just for a little bit…

The door across the hall was open. Red was there, reading a cd case in his hands and leaning against the frame like he had been waiting for you to get out. You stiffened, aware that you had just the towel on, and heat flushed your face as you realized you had forgotten to cover your legs as you tried to flee your stress migraine.

“about time, Dollface. yeh feelin’ alright? yer soul’s bin makin’ this… this, uh...” Red looked up from the case, saw you nearly naked, and his skull flushed crimson. His eye lights started to haze as they slowly looked you up and down.

His arm came up to rest on the door frame above his now smirking skull. Red brought the other hand out of his pocket, to snap his fingers and point a finger gun at you. His rough voice turned husky as he growled, “hey.”

Your face burned with a sudden mixture of embarrassment and rage. You reached back into the bathroom, grabbed the first thing you touched on the counter and chucked a hairbrush at him. “Don’t you fucking ‘hey’ at me you son of a bitch!”

You reached back to the counter, pelting Red with insults and anything you could touch. The ceramic soap pump, your bottle of lotion, the hand towel, and your dirty clothes to name a few. The toothbrush holder missed Red and exploded above his skull as he threw his arms up to protect himself.

“th’ fuck, woman?!” he snarled, wearing your thrown dress like a veil, and darted into his room for cover before slamming the door. You stood there in the hall, fuming while your temples throbbed painfully, and a high, sharp laugh like breaking glass drifted towards you.

You turned your head and saw Edge at the other bathroom, shirtless and with steam coming off his bones, as he held onto the door frame and laughed uproariously at Red’s humiliation. You head twinged painfully again, both from the outburst of anger and the noise from Edge, and you darted into the quiet sanctuary of your room.

Edge’s laughter followed you up the narrow staircase and you made your way around the backpack Milord had brought up for you in favor of your bed. If you were getting a migraine, you should stop studying for the night. Straining yourself would only make it worse. If only Milord could give  _ you _ a head rub and make it go away. 

You finally found silence under the covers of your bed. You buried your face into your pillow, thankful for the dark, and pushed your damp towel out and onto the floor. 

Despite the throbbing pain of your strengthening migraine, you tried to clear your mind of what just happened. You didn’t want to think about the embarrassment from your scars being visible, or the war in your head over how you treated Red. One side of you felt bad for how you acted; all he had done at that moment was flirt with you despite your exposed scars. The other side didn’t care and reminded you of what you learned; you didn’t need to apologize to someone like that. Your heart twisted, reminding you of your choice; that you still cared for him and yearned for answers no matter your thoughts.

You whimpered as your vision filled with yellow lights and you covered your head with the pillow, wishing that the medicine would kick in faster. A knock on your door sounded like someone banging on a gong in your ears and the jiggle of the knob was like the shake of sheet metal. You whined, curling up under the covers as your head gave another nasty throb at the heavy clomping of someone climbing the stairs.

“Robin? You okay?” Mutt’s raspy voice asked. You flinched and covered your ears at the noise. He wasn’t shouting, but the noise hurt.

The clank of plates on wood was like a tree falling on a tin roof and the squeak of springs from him sitting down next to you was like the screech of two cars trading paint.

“Shh!” you hissed, tightening your body into a ball. “Migraine.”

“Oh,” Mutt breathed, the word barely a whisper, and placed a gentle hand on you over the covers. “Do you want to come to my room? It’s dark and the cool air will help.”

You nodded, once, before the pain of it stopped you. You sat up, reaching blindly for Mutt, and winced as you heard his sharp intake of breath.

“Hold on,” he whispered, getting up from the bed. The scrape of wood made you dive back into the sheets, burying your head under the pillow, before Mutt came back. He found one of your hands and you felt the cloth of your sweater and sweatpants.

“Never thought I’d be telling you to put on clothes…” Mutt chuckled quietly, helping you put them on right since you kept your eyes shut against the sunlight. Once you were dressed, you felt the pressure from the void and the overwhelming smell of clove made you dizzy.

Mutt’s room was blissfully dark and his bed was cool to the touch. You gratefully laid your throbbing head against the cold pillow as he covered you with his sheets.

“Rest up, pretty bird,” he breathed, pressing his teeth to your forehead. Your hand found his and you gave him an appreciative squeeze before he pulled away. “Let me go back to dinner so you can have some peace and quiet. I’ll be back soon to check on you, okay?”

“Kay,” you mumbled, grateful beyond words for his help. But you could guess, by the flickering of his red eye lights before he vanished, that he knew from the sound in your soul. You closed your eyes and laid belly down, pressing your face into the cool relief of the pillow. You tried to think of nothing, to wait out the pain, and as the medicine you took finally started to kick in you drifted off to sleep.

~~~

_ You were inside a giant glass dome with many funnels dotting the walls. As you watched, bright yellow sand started to pour from the glass funnels and pool on the dark floor. You hammered on the walls, the sound echoing dully as more sand started to fall onto your head from the funnel in the ceiling. _

_ The sand was up to your knees. You shouted inside the twisted hourglass, searching the many spiraling tubes with your eyes for a way out. You reached into one, hoping to block some of the yellow onslaught and to climb up and out of the rapidly rising sand, but the funnel swallowed your arm. Two hands that looked like yours shot out from the sand, grabbing you and trying to pull you under, but you were stuck by your arm in the narrow funnel and your body hurt as it was pulled in two different directions. _

_ You tried to push the hands off, but more came out of the sand and pulled you loose from the funnel. You fell back and they started to drag you under. You tried to scream, but your mouth was quickly filled with sand and you choked. _

_ The sand engulfed you; you were drowning and only your eyes remained above the glowing surface. A warbling laugh echoed through the hourglass and a floating, bony hand with a hole in its palm appeared above you. You reached for it, desperate, but your hand passed right through it as if it were a ghost’s. _

~~~

A hand shook you and you grabbed it, squeezing it tightly while eyes flew open and your breath came in short, panicked bursts.

“Easy! Easy, it’s just me,” Mutt’s whispers drifted through the dark. Your eyes found his red eye lights hovering over you and you relaxed your grip. “What’s wrong?”

“A… nightmare,” you sat up and felt around for him. He was sitting right next to you and you gratefully pulled him close so you could bury your face into his hoodie. Mutt wrapped his arms around you and pulled you into his lap. 

“Do you want to talk about it?” he asked quietly, his fingers coming up to run through your damp hair. You sighed with contentment at the gentle touch, leaning into him as the soft motion helped ease the slight pain still in your head.

“I don’t really remember it,” you said, holding your hand against the dull throb at your temple.

Mutt hummed thoughtfully and gave you a small squeeze. “How’s your migraine?”

“Better,” you admitted, “but it still kind of hurts. Do you… think you could rub my head?”

“How should I…?” Mutt’s whisper trailed off. You took his hand, quietly explaining the motion needed. As he tried his best to repeat it, you leaned your head back against his ribcage and gave another sigh of relief as his thumbs swirled over your sore temples.

“I’m sorry I missed dinner,” you said quietly as Mutt gently coaxed the pain from you with his touch. 

“Don’t be.” He kissed the top of your head. “You forget that I lived with Milord; I know how debilitating migraines can be.” He added, a small strain in his raspy voice, “I just wish you would’ve said something before you got that stressed. You know I can hear it in your soul, but I’m… upset that you didn’t try to talk to any of us about it.”

“I’m sorry, I’ve been trying,” you took one of Mutt’s hands from your head and held it to your chest. “When I know I’ve been getting overwhelmed I try to find you or Axe to talk to.” With a small pain, you remembered seeking out Red for comfort when you felt like you couldn’t talk. “It’s just… there’s been so much lately. Whenever I think I can handle everything I have another thing just seems to pop up. I appreciate that you guys let me vent, but I wish I could get some answers, too.”

“So ask, then.” Mutt said simply, shifting himself so that he could lie on the bed with you resting comfortably on his chest. “You know you don’t have to fix things by yourself, Robin. I thought you knew you could ask me for anything?”

“I do,” you hesitated, feeling guilty both for trying to take care of it all by yourself, and also for wanting help. “I just don’t want to burden you guys with it.”

“You’re not a burden,” Mutt sighed and you turned your head so you could see his glowing eye lights. “I told you that the night you told me your story and it still stands. No matter what, you’re not a burden. And when I told you about what it means to be an alpha you were the one who told me that you wanted this relationship to go both ways. Let me help you, too.”

Your hands gripped the fabric of his hoodie and you laid your head on Mutt’s chest, thinking. Even though your migraine was gone, you didn’t want to tempt another one by not speaking up. You didn’t want to stress Mutt out with your problems, but it was all becoming too much to handle yourself. Thinking of something he could help with, you said, “Well, Axe is pretty upset with me right now, and I’m positive Butch is too.”

“That explains a lot.” Mutt said thoughtfully, his fingers starting to trace patterns on your back as he stared up at the ceiling. You relaxed at the sensation, closing your eyes in contentment. “Butch wouldn’t come down to help Pap with cooking, I ended up helping him instead, and Axe was super moody at dinner. I thought at first it was something Edge did, he seemed to be in a weirdly good mood tonight.” He added, with a slightly raspy chuckle, “It was so strange to see him smile, Robin. I never thought Edge was capable of that. Maybe that’s why Red was so pissed...”

As Mutt trailed off, you felt another twist in your heart. His hand paused and his red lights looked at you. Seeking to cover whatever sound your soul was making, you asked, “So what do you think I should do? About Axe and Butch?”

Mutt hummed thoughtfully and his hands stilled on your back. “I’d just let them come to you. It’s hard to say that with certainty since I don’t know why they’re upset with you, but you and I both know that Axe takes a while to sort out his thoughts and Butch doesn’t like confrontation. You like to chase us down when we’re upset, but he’ll just run if you try to corner him before he’s ready to talk. Does that help?”

You nodded, thinking back to earlier when you debated with yourself on whether or not to do just that. If Mutt thought waiting was a good idea, too, then you would just have to be patient.

“What else have you got?” Mutt asked. His hand drifted towards the pocket of his hoodie, no doubt for his pack of cigarettes, but he seemed to think better of it and let his hand rest on your back again. “I don’t think I would be much help with your studies or your petition, since I’m not exactly familiar with what you’re learning or humans in general, but I could try with anything else.”

Your brow furrowed as you tried to think of something else Mutt could help with. Your experiment popped into your head, but you had already asked Butch for his help and you didn’t want to upset him more by bringing Mutt in on it without asking. Sans was the only one that knew about the resets and the timelines; no one else could help either of you figure that out. You were already working on helping Edge teach Butch about his new magic and Milord was doing well so far with managing his stress levels. All that was left was your new found information about Red and your anxiety about your indecision.

“Actually,” you mumbled, trying to put off your questions about Red, “you might be able to help me with the petition. I didn’t want to ask so soon, since you just set it up for me…”

Mutt lifted his skull, watching you curiously as you trailed off. Your fingers fidgeted with the cloth of his hoodie as you hesitated.

“Would you be interested in meeting my friend Abby?” you asked quickly, finally spitting the question out. “I know you’re supposed to, um… not exist… but she said she’d help me if I could convince her about my side on monster rights, so I was hoping that maybe… maybe she could meet you or one of your brothers over video?”

Mutt hummed again, one of his hands coming up so his finger could pick at the sharp points of his teeth. “That… might be okay. Technically it’s not breaking any laws, but it shouldn’t be me, just to be safe, and you’ll need to make sure she doesn’t record it. It would be difficult to track a video online and shut it down before it went viral. I don’t want to do that again if I don’t have to.”

“Again?” you asked, lifting your head.

“Yeah,” Mutt mumbled bitterly, “There was this… incident with a Feral at a farm. One of the cops saved the video from their squad car and tried to post it. Your internet is a much bigger place than the undernet. I haven’t had to work so hard since I investigated the boss in-” He snapped his jaw shut. “Never mind, I shouldn’t talk about that to you.”

“The boss in Fell City?” you finished quietly. Mutt’s red eye lights narrowed at you in suspicion.

“How do you know about that?”

“Milord told me earlier,” you said quietly as you slid off his chest to curl up at his side. Mutt’s arm moved so his hand was draped over your waist and he gave you a small squeeze. “That’s why I didn’t come back down; I had to think about it. While I was in the bath I guessed that you would know about Red, too, since information is your job.”

“Yeah, you’re not wrong about that.” Mutt sighed, his gaze returning to the ceiling.

“So if you knew,” you asked, moving away from Mutt to prop yourself up on your elbows, “about all the things Red had done, why did you help me with him? Why didn’t you warn me?”

Mutt’s skull tilted and his red lights studied you for a long moment. “The same reason I didn’t tell you or my brothers everything I knew about Axe.” Mutt sat up, ran a hand over the top of his skull, and sighed again as he looked over at his covered up computer. “He’s trying to leave that all behind and it’s not my place to bring it up again.”

“Does Milord know what you do about Axe, too?” you asked, sitting up too. Mutt shook his skull.

“We don’t share everything, Robin.” Mutt shrugged, his raspy voice quiet. “He doesn’t tell me the things he reasons out from my information, and I don’t give everything I find out to him. For one, it would be too much for him to deal with on top of everything else he does. Secondly, the ability to choose what information to give up is the one freedom I have left. If I had told him that Axe was a serial killer, he and Butch would have been separated before coming here and Axe would have been turned to dust. It doesn’t matter if they were Feral or not. It’s the Guard’s job to dispose of monsters like that. Red would’ve met the same fate if Milord knew everything I did about him.”

“You mean there’s more?” Your eyes widened and horror filled you. If you had to hear one more terrible thing about Red, you didn’t know if you could ever look at him again.

“It’s not bad,” Mutt said quickly, his hand reaching to grab yours in the dark. He hesitated, adding, “Well, it can be, depending on how you look at it, but I don’t think it makes him a bad person overall. In fact,” Mutt mumbled sheepishly, “I kind of admire Red for it. No one else in the Underground has the nerve to do what he tried to do.”

“So it’s all true? His crimes?” You stared down in the darkness, your fingers now twisting the cuffs of your sweatpants. Quietly, you asked, “What else did he try to do?”

“Yeah, it’s true. He definitely was a boss. As for that other thing, I’ll tell you if he won’t,” Mutt glanced at you, his red lights flickering, “but you should talk to Red first. He has something I don’t: a real second chance, and he should get the opportunity to tell you everything himself. He probably will. I know he likes you, Robin, he never would have been able to mark you if he didn’t.” Mutt shifted, his eye lights softening as the smooth bone of his thumb caressed your cheek. “You deserve the whole story and you have this way of getting us to talk to you. I know I don’t know everything about Red. Hell, I don’t know anyone’s whole story, and I don’t want to scare you by saying something out of context.” He added, a low growl in his raspy voice, “I know Milord did that already, why else would you have that noise in your soul at the sound of Red’s name?”

“You don’t think he’d…?” you trailed off, not wanting to ask, but Mutt seemed to pick up on what you wanted to say.

“I’m sure Red knows we’d all dust him if he ever tried to hurt you.” Mutt scooped you up and kissed the top of your head. “Axe especially would go nuts if he did. Just because he’s upset at you doesn’t change that he’s stupidly overprotective of you. ”

“And if I… disappeared,” you whispered, your voice barely a breath, “would you be able to find me?”

“Robin,” Mutt leaned away so he could stare into your eyes, “if that ever happened, I’d tear the whole world apart to find you. Why would you ask that, anyway?”

You shifted uncomfortably, looking away from his lights. “You know what Red was convicted with, right? Why he got banished?

”Oh,” Mutt also shifted, his orange tongue lighting up the dark as he pressed it to the tip of his golden fang in thought. His fist clenched in anger as he growled, “I didn’t know Milord told you about that, too.”

“So you think he….?”

“No,” Mutt said firmly, shaking his skull quickly so that his red eye lights left trails in the dark. “Red’s not the smartest guy, but he knows how to avoid detection from the law. If he was going to spirit you away he would’ve had to do it when you first came here and none of us knew or cared too much about you. If you had disappeared back then we would’ve thought you just didn’t want to be around us.” Mutt gave a heavy sigh and flopped back onto the bed. “And if he  _ really _ wanted to get back into that business, he could’ve just gone down the mountain and abducted random humans. He’s already shown he doesn’t care about breaking the law. He knows how to find cameras and disable them and the Segregation Act wouldn’t mean anything to him if his mind was made up. I don’t think he’s done any of that, though. He’s barely left his room since we moved here, never mind the house or the property. The home network is a lot smaller than the one in the Underground; I would’ve noticed any cameras going offline or any time loops in the feed, and Axe patrols the surrounding woods. It’s impossible to evade both of us.”

You shifted your arms so that they wrapped around Mutt and gave him an appreciative squeeze. That line of reason never crossed your mind, you studied the mind not crime, but knowing that Mutt had thought all this through already made you feel better. No doubt, you reasoned, he was just as observant of Red’s activity as Milord was.

“How’s your head?” Mutt asked softly, his fingers coming up to brush through your dry hair. 

“Better,” you hummed and leaned into the comforting touch. Wanting to repay Mutt for easing your mind, you took one of his hands in yours and gently started to kneed his joints. “I really appreciate you helping me. I’m sorry I’ve been holding it all in, I just… I don’t want you or the others to worry about me.”

Mutt hummed with contentment and laid back on the bed, his sockets closing over his softening lights as your thumbs swirled over his palm. You could feel him sigh beneath you and you smiled, glad that this small touch could relax him. Your smile turned into a smirk as you remembered the last time you had done this for him; back in the living room and the question you had asked him then.

“You know,” you said softly, releasing his hand and moving your touch so that it slipped up under his hoodie and t-shirt to gently caress the belly of his spine over his pelvis. “There might be one more thing you can help me with.”

“What’s that, pretty bird?” his raspy voice mumbled, his sockets cracking open so his hazing eye lights could watch you as your hands trailed up to his bare rib cage.

“See, there’s this wonderful beta of mine,” you purred, repositioning yourself so that you were sitting on his hips while your searching fingers found his collarbone, to feel the almost faded mark you had given him. “I’ve been wanting to show him how much he means to me, but it’s been kind of hard since I haven’t had much alone time with him. Now that I have that, I want to know if he wants me to redo his mark.”

“Hm… then you should do that the first chance you get,” Mutt pulled you up so that he could bury his face in your neck and gently nip at your soft spot, sending small shivers through you as he gently touched your waist. “But you should be careful how handsy you are with him. This beta of yours gets fired up pretty easily and doesn’t want to push you for things you’re not ready for.”

“Says the guy that ‘took care of me’ in the middle of the dining room,” you smirked, maneuvering your head around his so you could go after his exposed neck vertebrae. He inhaled sharply, his hands squeezing at your sides while you twirled a small nub of bone with your tongue.

“Careful, Robin,” he growled softly, one of his hands pausing as it slipped up your sweater and over your bare back. “I mean it. I want your remark, but if you keep this up you’re going to have to let me calm down before you do that.”

“Why do you need to calm down?” you asked, teasing him as you caught his mouth with yours and he pulled you into him, his breath quickening as one of his hands cupped the back of your head while his tongue filled your mouth with the taste of clove. His other hand drifted down, over your backside, and Mutt let out a small groan of want as he squeezed it, then reluctantly pulled himself away.

“You should know why,” he let his sharp teeth drift over your jawline, hovering over your soft spot so you could feel his hot breath there. The feeling made you shiver and you smirked while shaking your head, wanting him to explain despite already guessing what he might say. 

Mutt let out a small growl as he rolled on the bed and flipped you so that he was the one on top. He gently bit at your soft spot, coaxing the first small moan from you as one of his hands slipped up your sweater to tease your bare chest.

“Because I want you,” his raspy voice purred as he kissed you, his fingers teasing the sensitivity of your breast as you started to squirm beneath him, from the sparks of desire he was coaxing into you. He let out another small growl that vibrated his ribs against you and pulled away just slightly, so that he could look you over with his hazy, red eye lights. “I want you  _ so bad _ , Robin,” he groaned as you let your arms fall to the sides so both of his hands could slip under your sweater and caress your stomach and chest. “I’m trying so hard to restrain myself, but I would do everything to you and more if you let me.” He leaned down and kissed you, a passionate need that fanned the heat in your belly as his tongue danced with yours and his hand gently drifted over the want between your legs. He reluctantly pulled the touch back again, mumbling, “But I don’t want to take you before you’re ready. You’re worth the wait.”

“Who says I’m not ready?” you mumbled softly. Mutt sat back, his hazy lights flickering as he tried to process your question. Smiling, you reached out and gently touched the side of his skull, your thumb tracing the line of his cheekbone. “Why do you think I asked if you would wait for my remark? I wanted to do this with you.”

“...really?” Mutt asked, his lights flickering again. You rolled your eyes and, thinking you would make it more real for him, you reached down, pulled off your sweater, and tossed it to the floor. Mutt breathed in sharply through his teeth, his eye lights hazing even more as he looked you up and down. “...you’re really not kidding, are you?”

“Nope,” you shook your head and Mutt grinned mischievously, his burnt orange tongue darting out to lick the tips of his fangs. “On one condition,” you added, catching his twitching hands before they could touch you. “I want you to tell me when to remark you, since I know how fired up it gets you, but it has to be before you claim me. Is that okay?”

“Yeah, that’s fine with me.” Mutt nodded and you released his hands. They immediately went to your waist, to trace the curve up and down your sides. He looked back up at you, his lights flickering again and asked, “What about your legs? I know you’re sensitive about your scars…”

“It’s dark,” you took his arm and pulled him closer, then put a finger to his teeth as he opened them to speak. “Don’t say anything more about it. You’ve seen them before, but I like the idea that we can’t see them in the dark.”

“Right, I’ll shut up now,” Mutt smirked and pulled you in for another clove-flavored kiss, one hand tangling in your hair while the other roamed over your chest again. 

He broke away, only for a moment, to pull both his hoodie and his t-shirt off to toss them aside like you had with your sweater. Mutt returned to you with a renewed fervor; his hand pulled your head to the side by your hair so he could pepper your neck with small bites, his warm, burnt orange tongue occasionally darting out to lick the spots where he had bit too hard. His other hand was trailing down your side now, squeezing you gently as it went and stopping on your waist to trace the soft skin above the band of your sweatpants. You felt both your breath and your heartbeat quicken in anticipation as he teased you lower belly, gently trailing his fingertip over the skin before his bites moved away from your neck and down to your collar.

While he was doing this to you, you were doing your best to tease him back. You hands trailed over his bare ribs and down the length of his spine, earning a small shudder from him for your effort. You caught his neck as he left yours and bit at the bone there. His breath hitched and his hand finally slipped beneath your waistband, to slip a pair of fingers through the wetness of your entrance and to gently tease the sensitive nub just above it. You let out a small moan, your hips moving to press against him, and your hand fell the rest of the way down his spine towards his pelvis.

Due to the dark, you could already see the burnt orange magic gathering there, but you were a little over excited and your hand missed the crest of his pelvis that you knew was a spot for a skeleton and went all the way to the front. Your hand became entangled in the feathery, unformed magic and Mutt groaned, falling onto you and shuddering as your fingers swirled the plasma around.

“Holy fuck, Robin,” Mutt groaned, his wet hand coming out of your sweatpants to hold onto your hip while his other hand pulled at your hair. His breathing quickened, a heavy, burnt orange flush forming on his skull as you wiggled your fingers again, experimenting. His hazy red lights flickered as they glitched out and he groaned again, his face falling into the crook of your neck as he bucked his hips against you. You smirked and wiggled your digits again, slowly moving your fingers to tease the magic while Mutt moaned and pulled at you with his hands.

“Is it good?” you asked quietly before he shuddered and roughly pulled your head back by your hair, biting your neck hard enough that you cried out and he had to lick the small droplets of blood his fangs had made.

“Let me form,” he moaned into your tender skin, his grip tight on your hip, “holy shit please, Robin let me form!”

You pulled your hand away, worried that you might’ve hurt him, and saw the light in his pelvis shift as he snapped into shape. Mutt grabbed your arms and pinned them above your head, his breathing heavy and his eye lights nearly gone in their haze.

“You naughty girl,” he growled, his smirking face half an inch from yours, his breath hot on your lips as he hovered. “Where did you learn to do that?”

“Um… just now?”

Mutt hummed in thought as he took one of his hands away, still keeping yours pinned, and licked at the sore bite on your neck again. “First you did that thing with your mouth,” his raspy voice growled as his hand fell and pulled at your sweatpants, “and now you’re disrupting my magic. You think you can just tease me and I won’t do it back?”

You squealed in surprise as Mutt ripped your sweatpants off and tossed them to the floor. You automatically tried to reach down, to cover yourself, but Mutt’s grip on your wrists stopped that from happening. He smirked, let your hands go, and parted your legs so that he could rest between them.

“W-what are you doing?” you asked, your voice shaking slightly with nerves as he slowly moved down your chest and stomach, leaving a trail of kisses behind that made your face burn.

“Teasing you back,” he said mischievously, his skull now between your legs. His hands moved your thighs to the side and you caught a flash of his burnt orange tongue before it was pressed against your entrance. Your breath hitched and a moan escaped you as you felt him move his tongue around, tracing the contours of your slit and swirling that sensitive nub.

You moaned again, your hand coming down to try and grab at his smooth skull as heat started to fill you, burning you with desire as you arched your back in delight. He squeezed your legs with his hands, keeping them in place as you bucked against him after his tongue pushed its way inside you, sending jolts of electricity through your veins.

Mutt’s eye lights drifted up to watch you as you squirmed against his tongue. You could feel him smirk against you just before he pulled away and you whined for more. He pressed his wet teeth against your scarred thigh for a kiss before his burnt orange tongue darted out to lick his jaw clean.

“You want more?” His raspy voice asked as he kicked off his pants, freeing his glowing member. You nodded and Mutt crawled up the bed over you, still smirking as he settled himself on top of you. You let out a small moan of want as he grinded against you, his warm member sliding against your entrance. “I want to hear you say it, pretty bird,” he purred, teasing you with your own desire for consent.

“Claim me,” you gasped, your breath heavy as Mutt kissed you roughly, his hand coming to pull at your hair again, while the other went down to squeeze at your chest.

“Then mark me,” he growled into your ear. He leaned back slightly and steered your head by your hair to his collarbone. You could feel his breath through his ribs and had to use one hand to steady him so you got the proper place on his collarbone between your teeth. At a sudden stroke of inspiration, you reached down with the other to caress the top wing of his pelvis while you bit down as hard as you could.

Mutt moaned and thrust against you, you could feel the pulse from his member against your entrance as a small bit of magic leaked out and landed on your abdomen. The moment your teeth released him, Mutt growled and picked you up, spun you around, and pressed your chest against the cool wall of the basement.

“I hope you’re ready,” he nipped at your ear, his breath hot on your neck, as he spread your legs and positioned himself behind you, “cuz I’m gonna fuck you till your bones rattle.”

You had no time to say anything before you felt his member press against you, slipping into your entrance from behind. A moan escaped you as Mutt slid in as far as he could go, shivering slightly as his hands tilted your body back into him and away from the cold wall.

“How are you so tight?” he whispered in your ear, slowly thrusting into you while one hand held you in place at your abdomen; the other by your breast, rolling your sensitivity between his thumb and the first joint of his pointer finger. You couldn’t say anything back, not against the wave of electricity that kept crashing over you with each of his movements, so you moaned again and reached back to anchor yourself by holding onto his shoulder blades.

His movements became faster and you tried to breathe as he bit at your neck, as he squeezed your chest. His other hand slipped from your abdomen to someplace further down, and he began swirling the nub over your entrance while he pounded into you. You screamed his name, over and over while the combined heat and electrical pleasure rapidly building up made you lose touch with all other senses.

Just before you could peak he slipped out of you and pushed you back onto the bed. You whined, squirming beneath him as he spread your legs again and pushed them towards your chest.

“Oh, I’m not done with you,” Mutt grinned evilly and bent down to kiss you, to give you a moment of reprieve in the taste of clove. “I just want to see your face when I make you feel the best you’ve ever had.”

Then he was inside you again, thrusting himself in as deep as he could go while he pushed your knees up towards your shoulders. You bit your lip and your hands grabbed at his ribs, trying to stop him, as the pressure from him started to become more than you could handle.

“Too much,” you panted, looking at his eye lights with mixture of want and pleading, “you’re too big for that, I can’t…”

“I’ll be gentle, my love,” Mutt kissed your forehead, slowly moving himself in and out so you could adjust to the position. “Just until you get used to all of me so deep in you.”

He hooked your legs over his shoulders while he gently moved in and out, waiting until your uncomfortable whines turned once again into moans before he quickened his pace. He bent down and kissed you, causing you to whine again as he nearly folded you in half. He slowed once more, his eye lights on your face as he gauged how fast he could go.

“That’s right, take it all,” he purred as your hands flew up to pull at his ribs, to bring him closer to you as you locked your ankles behind the back of his head. He scooped your head up and wrestled his tongue with yours, smirking against you as his other hand once again found that spot above your entrance to swirl and tease while he gyrated his hips.

You moaned his name into his mouth and he moved faster, thrusting roughly against you as you felt yourself approach that damn of electricity and heat from before. His forehead rested against yours, his hazed red lights filling your failing vision as he panted and you scratched at his ribs with your nails. You couldn’t see, couldn’t breathe, there were stars in your eyes and your toes were curling as wave after wave of pleasure coursed through every fiber of your being. Nothing else existed in this moment except you and him and what he could do to you as your back arched and you screamed his name in delight and he clawed you back, moaning your name back, as his warmth filled you and you felt him shudder as he slammed again and again into you, letting you ride that peak for as long as you could…

The two of you slowed to a stop, still in position, while you panted to catch your breath. Mutt gently let your legs fall to the bed and collapsed beside you, a smile stretching across his skull. He pulled you into him and held you, his face buried in your hair, and you moved your exhausted limbs to return the embrace.

You wanted to tell him that you loved him, that you were happy to be with him, but you both were asleep the moment you closed your eyes.

~~~

Sometime in the night, or you assumed it was night until you remembered you were in the basement, you woke up with a ravenous howling in your stomach. A hopeful sniff at the air that caught the scent of butter and bread reminded you that you hadn’t eaten dinner. Your stomach rumbled again, prompting you to leave the warmth and comfort of the bed and Mutt’s embrace in pursuit of food.

“I’ll be right back,” you mumbled as you kissed the top of Mutt’s sleeping skull. He smiled in his sleep and drew the covers up while you felt around in the dark for your clothes. You found them not too far from the bed and stumbled onto the floor, your face burning with embarrassment as you realized your legs didn’t want to work.

As you carefully got to your feet, put your clothes on, and climbed up the creaky stairs, one of Milord’s warnings about the scent of a claim crossed your mind. But how were you supposed to shower without crossing the house? You paused on the stairs, just before the wall blocked the view of the basement, and looked to where you guessed Mutt laid in the darkness. You could go back and ask him to teleport you up to the bathroom.

You shook your head and continued up the stairs. If it was the middle of the night, then the only one awake at this time would be Edge. Since Edge had no interest like that in you, it should be fine, right? Otherwise, it was the middle of the day and you would have to deal with Pap, since he’s the only other brother who would be cooking. Pap was always understanding, surely you could talk things out if it was him?

The bright light of the kitchen blinded you after the dark of the basement. You blinked stupidly for a moment, letting your eyes adjust. Taking a deep breath, you walked into the kitchen.

It was indeed nighttime. The window over the sink was dark and Edge was the one at the stove making a grilled cheese. His red eye lights darted towards you, narrowing as you moved quickly past him for the fridge.

“YOU REALLY HAVE NO SHAME AT ALL.” He sneered, flipping the contents of the pan while you dug through your drawer for a snack.

“It’s not like I’m trying to flaunt it,” you said, sticking an apple under your arm and stuffing a few slices of lunch meat into your mouth. Deciding that the whole package was fine, meat sounded amazing at the moment, you grabbed the container and took a seat at the table. “I’m not like you guys, Edge. I can’t just teleport to a bathroom whenever I want.”

“YOU’RE DISGUSTING.” Edge rolled his eye lights and turned back to the stove, grumbling under his breath. It seemed you had guessed correctly, Edge didn’t act more upset about your scent than his usual prickly behavior. You looked down at your odd midnight snack, took the package of lunch meat, and crossed the kitchen to Edge.

“Ever tried hot ham and cheese before?” You asked him, offering the container of meat like a peace offering. “I don’t think you’ve ever had an opportunity to try ham, but you’re welcome to if you’d like.”

He scrutinized you with his gaze before roughly snatching the container from your hands, lifting it to his skull to smell while you returned to the fridge to search for another snack.

“HAVE YOU CONVINCED BUTCH, YET?” He asked, his sharp tones covering the noise of him ripping open the plastic container beyond repair. Edge stuffed a few slices into his almost melted grilled cheese, then tossed the rest of the ham back into the void of his jaws. His eye lights shined brightly for a moment before he turned away and you lost sight of his face.

“No,” you admitted, pulling a bunch of cherry tomatoes from your drawer and popping a few into your mouth. “But I started talking to Axe,” you added quickly through your mouthful as Edge rounded on you, the smell of gasoline wafting through the kitchen.

“WHAT’S THE POINT OF TALKING TO HIM? YOU’RE CHANGING BUTCH’S MIND, NOT HIS!” Edge snapped, brandishing the spatula in his hands at you like a sword.

“It’s called tact, Edge,” you said coolly, crossing your arms and holding your ground as he stared you down. “Axe is protective of Butch and won’t let you anywhere near him. If you want this to work, then you have to accept that Axe is going to be a part of your lessons.”

“YOU’RE JUST INCOMPETENT!” Edge took a single step across the kitchen to get into your face. He towered over you, his scowl twisting the features of his face. “BUTCH IS A PUSHOVER, IF YOU DON’T HAVE HIM CONVINCED BY NOW, THEN YOU NEVER WILL!”

“I’m not forcing him to do anything,” you said firmly and glared right back at Edge. “These things take time. Either learn some patience or we’ll just drop this entirely. You’ll need it if you’re serious about working with Butch.”

“OH YES, THE ONE THROWING AN ENTIRE BATHROOM AT MY IDIOT BROTHER IS TEACHING  _ ME _ ABOUT PATIENCE?” Edge laughed scornfully and returned to the stove, to flick off the burner and snatch his food straight from the hot pan. He took a large bite, the cheese stretching from the sandwich to his sharp teeth. “I DON’T BLAME YOU,” he chuckled, a glint in his eye lights, “THAT MORON CAN’T DO ANYTHING RIGHT. I’M SURPRISED YOU’VE TRIED TO DEAL WITH HIM FOR THIS LONG.”

“You mean Red?” you raised an eyebrow, taking your apple from the dining table as you turned and leaned against it, to talk to Edge as he took another bite from his sandwich.

“OBVIOUSLY. OR HAVE YOU THROWN THINGS AT ANYONE ELSE LATELY?” Edge smirked at the thought, his black tongue darting out to catch a piece of ham from his teeth before it fell to the floor.

“No, I haven’t.” You took a bite of your apple and chewed thoughtfully. If anyone could answer questions about Red’s past, it would be Edge. They had lived together, hadn’t they? “Hey, Edge?”

He didn’t say anything, but you could see the slight quirk of his bony brow from his barely hidden curiosity.

“What would you want in exchange for… an answer or two?” You asked, contemplating your apple before taking another bite. The juices leaked out around your teeth and you wiped it away from your lips with the back of your hand.

“DEPENDS ON THE QUESTIONS.” Edge dropped the rest of his sandwich into his void. He crossed his arms, leaning against the marble counter as he examined you with narrowed eye lights. “BUT YOU HAVE YET TO UPHOLD YOUR DEAL WITH ME REGARDING BUTCH, SO I SEE NO REASON WHY I SHOULD ANSWER ANY OF YOUR QUESTIONS.”

“Because… I’ll owe you?” You said tentatively, quickly adding, “within reason, of course.”

Edge hummed thoughtfully, tapping at his sharp teeth with a gloved finger. “WHATEVER I WANT?”

“Within reason,” you repeated, pressing this point.

He hummed again, considering this, before giving an exasperated sigh. “FINE. ONE QUESTION. AND YOU HAVE TO FOLLOW OUR PREVIOUSLY LAID RULES.”

You nodded, remembering that he made it very clear to forbid any questions about ‘her.’ “Just this one, then. But what do you want in return?”

“I’LL THINK OF SOMETHING APPROPRIATE AFTER I HEAR WHAT YOU WANT TO KNOW.” Edge’s sharp voice cut through the kitchen, giving you a strong indicator of his impatience.

“Okay, okay,” you held up your free hand to show him you weren’t going to push any more. “My one question is this: why did you turn Red in to the Guard?”

Edge’s red lights widened for a moment in shock, then they became small slits as he narrowed them at you. He bent over, until his face was level with yours, and his sharp voice growled dangerously, “WHY DO YOU CARE?”

“Is my answer your repayment?” you asked casually and took a bite of your apple, despite your stomach flipping over from nerves. Edge put a hand on his hip, studying you.

“DON’T BE COY, PET.” Edge growled, straightening up as he strode back across the kitchen to clear the dishes from the stove. “YOU WANT MY ANSWER, THEN GIVE ME YOURS. WHY DO YOU CARE AT ALL ABOUT RED AND HIS PAST? YOU’VE ALREADY GAINED HIS AFFECTION AND TURNED HIM INTO ANOTHER OF YOUR GUARD DOGS. ARE YOU SIMPLY SEEKING TO TIGHTEN YOUR COLLAR AROUND HIS NECK?”

You blinked rapidly, trying to process Edge’s wording. “What… what the hell do you mean by that?”

“I’M NOT BLIND!” Edge threw the dirty frying pan into the sink with a loud clatter, rounding on you as he stomped across the kitchen and jabbed a gloved finger into your face. “YOU’VE ALREADY GOTTEN HIS MARK, HE’S ALREADY MADE THE CHOICE TO FIGHT OTHERS FOR YOU. I CAN COUNT THE NUMBER OF TIMES RED HAS PROVOKED ME ON ONE HAND! WHY DO YOU CARE WHO HE USED TO BE IF YOU ALREADY HAVE WHAT YOU WANT? YOU’RE FREE TO USE HIM HOWEVER YOU LIKE AND HE’LL JUST ROLL OVER AND LET YOU-”

“Edge, stop!” You grabbed his gloved hand and he yanked from your grip, leaving a trail of gasoline scented magic behind in the air. “I don’t want to use Red. I care about him, but I’m confused! I just learned about who he used to be, but I want to know if he’s changed. I want to know what you saw that made you save his life-”

Edge cut off your words with a high, cruel laugh. “HE HASN’T CHANGED, PET. NOT ONE BIT. HE’S SIMPLY GIVEN UP ON HIMSELF AND EVERYTHING ELSE.”

“That’s not true!” Your hand squeezed the last of your apple tightly, the juices oozing through your fingers and dripping onto the floor. “He hasn’t given up on you! The one thing, the only thing he’s ever wanted, was for you to be okay!” Edge stilled, his laugh fading away and leaving the kitchen in silence as you stared at each other. His red lights flickered with unreadable emotion and you swallowed hard past a lump in your throat.

“YOU WANT TO KNOW WHY I SAVED HIM?” Edge’s sharp voice was quiet, but it made the hairs on the back of your neck stand up. “BECAUSE HE’S A FAILURE. EVERYTHING HE ATTEMPTS ENDS UP WRONG. NO DOUBT YOUR INFORMANT,” Edge gestured at the basement door, “TOLD YOU WHAT HE TRIED TO DO IN FELL CITY? HE FAILED. HE FAILED PROTECTING ME, HE FAILED TRYING TO BETTER OUR LIVES, AND HE’LL EVENTUALLY FAIL WITH YOU, JUST LIKE HE FAILED AT EVERY OTHER RELATIONSHIP HE EVER SOUGHT WITH A WOMAN. WHEN HE FINALLY REALIZED WHAT HE TRULY WAS HIMSELF, HE SHIPPED ME OFF TO THE GUARD AND TRIED TO DROWN HIMSELF IN DRINK INSTEAD OF BEING TO BE WHO HE WAS SUPPOSED TO BE IN THE FIRST PLACE!”

You backed away into the table, stumbling as Edge advanced towards you and you felt your heart racing in your chest from his barely contained rage.

“I TURNED HIM IN,” Edge continued, with no regard to your shock and confusion, “BECAUSE HE WOULD’VE BEEN LYNCHED BY HIS OLD GANG MATES OTHERWISE. NO DOUBT IT’S WHAT HE WANTED, HE COULDN’T EVEN TAKE HIS OWN LIFE PROPERLY, SO HE BECAME RECKLESS IN THE HOPES OTHERS WOULD DO IT FOR HIM.”

“So,” you said quietly, your eyes darting around the tile floor before looking up to Edge’s face. “Did you turn him in to save him, or because you wanted him to live with it all?”

Edge leaned in, his sockets dark, and growled, “I SAVED HIM BECAUSE I’M BETTER THAN HIM. WHEN I SAY I’M GOING TO PROTECT MY BROTHERS, I MEAN IT.”

He stomped from the kitchen, leaking black plasma from his hands, and you knew better than to chase after him when he was that angry.

You threw your half eaten apple away, rinsed the liquid sugar from your hand, and darted back down to the dark basement. 

You crawled under the dark covers and sought out the comfort of Mutt’s frame. He shifted in his sleep, his long arms wrapping around you while he nuzzled the side of your head and you let yourself calm ever so slightly.

But it didn’t make sense, you realized as you laid there, staring in the dark. Milord and Mutt had made it seem like being a boss was a big thing, something that took a certain amount of cleverness and skill to accomplish while evading the law for so long. Edge had made it sound like Red was a total idiot who couldn’t do anything right. How could you be an incompetent boss monster?

You gently poked Mutt in the ribs, hoping that he could help you figure out the answer. Mutt yawned loudly and opened his sockets, his red lights fuzzy in the dark.

“Mmm, are we doing round two?” he asked, his raspy voice sultry as he kissed your cheek and he pulled you into him.

“Not quite, love,” you murmured, tracing your thumb over his cheekbone while you stole a small taste of clove from him. “I was… actually hoping you could help me figure something out. I know it’s late...”

Mutt readjusted so that he was on his back and you were laying on top of his rib cage, able to stare into his red eye lights as they sharped. You quietly recounted your conversation with Edge, along with your thoughts, finishing with, “-and I don’t think you or Milord are lying, so is it possible that Edge is?”

“Holy shit,” Mutt mumbled, his hand brushing over the top of his skull as he absorbed your recollection. “I thought you were just going to tell me you caught Sans sleepwalking or something…”

“I’m sorry…” you sighed, feeling terrible that you had suddenly thrown this onto Mutt, but he shook his skull and gave you a reassuring hug.

“Don’t be, I’m not mad.” Mutt smiled at you, you could see it by the light of his eyes, and ran his fingers through your hair to calm you. “I’m just… astonished, really. Edge doesn’t talk to us about anything, but he never came across to me as a liar. It would be hard to tell you for certain without being there to hear his intent myself. Regardless, it’s really hard to believe that Red would… try to do that to himself. He’s too stubborn to think like that.”

“So you think Edge is lying about why he saved Red?” you asked.

“I don’t know,” Mutt shook his skull. He stared at the ceiling, lost in thought for some time, before saying quietly, “It’s possible Edge is telling the truth about that. I only know about who Red was when he was a boss and even then I don’t know details of that time. I don’t know anything about him and Edge as kids. Hell, I didn’t know anything about Edge himself until he came to the Guard. My cameras let me see a lot, but I don’t see everything.” His gaze found yours again and he rolled over, to curl you against him for comfort. “If you want to know that, you’ll just have to talk to Red and find out.”

“But… what about-?”

“Don’t worry about when.” Mutt kissed the top of your head. “Let yourself process it all and go to him when you’re ready. It doesn’t have to be today or even tomorrow. You already have all those other things you’re trying to take care of like school, your petition, and your other betas. Focus on what you can manage before you give yourself another migraine.”

“And you’re sure,” you hesitated, not wanting the way your words might come out to imply anything, “that the thing you know about Red, the big thing…”

“I’m not sure if Edge knows about it,” Mutt tucked the sheets tightly around you so you would stop squirming, “but if Red had succeeded, the world as we know it would probably be very different.”

“You’re not going to tell me, are you?”

“I told you I would if Red wouldn’t.” Mutt kissed the top of your head. “Just try to get some rest for now, pretty bird. You’ll get a chance to deal with it later so there’s no use worrying about it now. Or,” he smirked and his bony hand wriggled through the sheets, under your sweater to trace patterns over your bare stomach. “I could help you forget for a while? There are a few more positions I want to try, if you’re ready.”

“I should’ve known you’d have a high libido,” you smirked as he leaned over you, kissing you gently while he waited for you to give him consent. “I’m in trouble now, aren’t I?”

“Depends on how you see it,” Mutt smirked back and gave your neck a gentle nip. “You can still say no, Robin. Whenever you like, and I’ll respect that.”

You wiggled until your hands snaked out from the sheets and you wrapped your arms around his neck. “I love you, Mutt,” you whispered to the side of his skull.

“Love you too, Robin,” he breathed, “Forever and always.”

“Round two?” you asked and he pulled back, his eye lights flickering to confirm. You quickly added, “Just take it easy with me this time. I could barely use my legs when I got up earlier.”

“Only barely, huh?” he grinned mischievously, pulling the sheet and your clothes off so fast you could’ve sworn he teleported them away. “I can do better than that.”

~~~

The sun warmed the small, slightly muddy hill you and Abby sat on for lunch. The young grass poked through your tan, thigh high socks and made your legs itch, but you were grateful that Abby had agreed to do lunch outside with you today on one of the more secluded parts of campus.

You dug through the large paper bag in your hands, distributing the sub sandwiches between the two of you (tuna on french bread for yourself, a turkey lettuce wrap for Abby,) and were just starting to remove the two side salads when Abby tapped your arm.

“These are for you,” she said, a pair of large vitamin bottles in each of her manicured hands. You took them and she brushed dust from her pink, faux fur, long sleeved crop top and pointed at one of the bottles to explain. “Now, I know you cheat on your vegetarian diet, but if you’re trying to stick with it you need to at least take a B-complex vitamin and an iodine pill. The B vitamins are the ones you can only get from animal products, so you’ll need that, and you’ll need a quarter of a teaspoon of the iodine salt to regulate your thyroid hormones.”

“Oh, thank you!” you looked up from the bottles, not sure what to say since you had hardly talked to Abby about your diet at the house. She shrugged, grabbed one of the side salads, and popped open the plastic lid without touching the packets of dressing.

“Don’t worry about it, sweetie,” she said with a small smile. “I know where to get the good stuff for cheap. Just ask me if you need more, this stuff is expensive in most stores since it doesn’t have any filler added.”

You set the bottles in your lap, in the cradle from the bell of your green shirt dress, while you picked up a salad of your own. “Still, I appreciate it. I can pay you back, if you like.”

“Don’t worry about it,” Abby waved the offer away and stuck a forkful of lettuce past her glossy lips. “If you really want to pay me back, just throw me some cash next time you need them.”

A small smile crept onto your face as you glanced down at the bottles. Abby really was sweet, despite coming off as a bit superficial. 

“So, what’s the rest of your day look like?” Abby asked, her eyes targeting a guy from behind her sunglasses as he passed the two of you on his long board.

“It’s Friday,” you shrugged, wondering about that yourself. “I don’t have classes until next week, so I’ll head home after this.”

“What, no petitioning?” Abby gave the passing guy a small smile as his head turned to watch her. He nearly plowed into a bench and barely managed to stumble off his board in time.

“I wasn’t sure. Do have practice?” You ignored the guy as he chased after his long board, red in the face, and focused on Abby. “If you want to help me out?”

“Did you think of something to convince me?” she asked sweetly, pretending to ignore the guy as well as he got back on his board and came back around to stare.

“Maybe,” you shrugged, eyeing the guy as he got a little too close for your liking, and waited until he looped the other way before continuing in a low voice, “I thought… maybe you might change your mind if you met one for yourself.”

Abby paused, her fork halfway to her mouth. A piece of lettuce dropped from her plastic fork and onto the tight, black spandex covering her toned legs. “What?”

“Over video,” you clarified, not wanting to give her the wrong impression.

“How the  _ hell _ are you going to manage that?” she said quietly, her tone full of disbelief.

“I told you, I know monsters.” You huffed and stuffed your empty salad container into the bag. As you ripped open the wax paper over the end of your tuna sub, you added, “I had to talk to them about it first, but they agreed. There will be a couple conditions, of course, but if you help me get more signatures for my petition I’ll set up a video chat.”

“Wait, wait, wait,” Abby grabbed your wrist before you could take a bite. “Is that who you were talking to the other day on the phone? That Mutt guy?” She gasped, her hand flying up over her glossy lips as her eyes widened. “You said that was your housemate! Are you-?!”

“Yeah, I live with monsters,” you said slowly, watching her closely to gauge her reaction. Abby simply sat there, stunned, just like Professor Pierce had been when she found out. “That’s how I know they deserve rights. I’ve been living with them since the start of term and as you can see,” you held out your arms, “I’m perfectly fine.”

“W-what about Pap and Sans?” Abby asked quietly, her sandwich forgotten as she leaned forward towards you. “Are they…?”

“Monsters? Yup.” you nodded.

“But… but aren’t you dating Pap?” Abby grabbed her long, blonde ponytail and started messing with the ends between her fingernails. “How does that even….?”

“Because Pap is a wonderful person.” You said firmly before she could assume anything or fall back to her racist mindset. “He’s fun and clever and sweet and better than any human guy I’ve met. And,” you picked up her lettuce wrap and thrust it into her hands, “he’s vegetarian. They all are. Monsters don’t eat meat. They don’t get any nutrients from it and I don’t think most of them like the idea of eating something with a soul.”

“Your- you-” Abby stuttered, flustered at this sudden information, and held her forehead with her hand. “Holy shit, sweetie. When you texted me that you wanted to talk today I thought you wanted to vent about midterms or… fuck, I dunno. Not… tell me you lived with monsters. Is it just those three?”

“No, there are eight of them and they’re all brothers,” you said, watching Abby’s eyes widen to the size of dinner plates. “I have my own room and they’re respectful of my privacy. Some of them,” you hesitated, but decided it would be best to be honest, “have some small issues, but overall they’re really nice. Those guys deserve rights and freedom.”

You truly believed that. Edge might hate humans, Red might have a dark past you didn’t know everything about, but that wasn’t going to stop you from moving forward with your petition. Monsters, just like humans, weren’t all as pure as snow, but that didn’t mean they didn’t deserve rights. If you didn’t change the law and the minds of humans, then who else would step up to show the Queens that there was no need for war?

“What’re you thinking?” you asked gently, watching Abby stare, frozen, at her lettuce wrap.

“I don’t understand…” she said slowly, picking at a corner of the wax paper. “If they’re vegetarians, then why did that one attack those people on the farm? Why did it eat them?” She looked up at you, her eyes pleading, “Was everything Cam told me a lie?”

“First, tell me how you feel about this,” you placed a gentle hand on her knee, “and then I’ll explain the best I can.”

“Shit, I dunno!” Abby threw her hands, and the sub, up in the air, and bit at her glossy lower lip. “I mean, I know you have to be telling the truth. It explains why you always seem like you’re hiding something. Why would you argue so hard for them if you didn’t? Fuck, if people like Cam knew…!” She trailed off, looking out towards the empty sidewalk where the skater had disappeared. “But Cam… his uncle works on the police force and had all these stories. I know they’re racist, but why would they make that up?”

“I don’t know all the stories you do,” you softly said, giving her knee a squeeze, “but you have an opportunity to make the choice for yourself on what you should believe. You don’t have to take my word for it. If you want, you can walk away from this and I won’t bug you about the petition ever again. Or, if you want, we can set up the call and you can meet a monster. But,” you squeezed her knee, hard, until she looked up at you. “If we do the call, you can’t tell people I did this for you. You and I both know the prejudice facing monsters and we don’t need that kind of attention.”

Abby put her sandwich in her lap and took off her sunglasses, to fiddle with the lenses. “You… must really trust me,” she mumbled towards the ground. “You know who I am and… and you still told me all this.”

“I’m trying to.” You wrapped up the other half of your sandwich and set it aside. Shifting slightly, so that you were just barely touching your knee to hers, you sighed, “I’m not the most trusting towards humans. But you’ve been honest with me after I called you out. You’ve been trying to help me in your own way,” you hand touched the vitamin bottles, “and I know you’re not a true racist. If you want to change, you should have the chance to do so.”

“And the monster from the farm?” Abby looked up at you expectantly.

“There are…” you said slowly, trying to find the right words, “problems, among monsters, just like with human society. Would you say that we should have our rights taken away, just because of the actions of a few abnormalities? That the criminals in our city determine that the whole population should lose its ability to speak or walk freely, or-”

“I get it,” Abby shied away and wrapped her arms around herself, shaking slightly. She mumbled, “so they do eat people…”

“No, they don’t,” you pressed, thinking of Butch and the horror that act had put him through. Abby looked up at the defiance in your tone. “They don’t want to, they never want to, so don’t think that they’re just out to eat us! Abby, I know you’ve heard so many bad stories from Cam, but I bet you anything I could tell you just as many good ones and more.”

“Like what?”

“Like,” you twirled your hand in the air as you tried to find a place to start. “Like one of my housemates, Axe. He likes to wander the woods around the house to find and protect the woodland creatures there. He’s even shown me a family of snowy owls around the time we first met. Sans loves to tell jokes and pull pranks. He and I have been having a prank war! Butch is a masterful artist and his drawings are so realistic you’d swear you’re looking at a photograph. Pap’s a great chef and he’s an amazing craftsman, too. He’s built most of the things in the house! Milord’s ridiculously clever and he’s been helping me with my calculus and we play chess on Saturday mornings. Mutt,” you paused, not wanting to let anything slip that you shouldn’t, “Mutt is incredibly insightful. He helps me sort out my mind when I’m overwhelmed. And Red…” you drifted again, feeling your chest tighten, “Red loves music. I’ve never seen anyone lose himself in a song like he does.”

Abby studied you, her eyes narrowed ever so slightly. “...you really care about them, don’t you?”

“Yeah, I do,” you said proudly.

Abby bit her lip again, studied her sunglasses, then looked up at you with resolution shining through her makeup. “Okay, let’s do it. The video thing.”

“Are you sure?” You asked, hesitating slightly. You didn’t think she would agree this quickly.

“Yup, positive.” Abby scooted closer to you and pulled out her phone. “I want to see what you do; why you’re fighting so damn hard for these guys.”

“No phones,” you said quickly, snatching it out of her hand and pulling out the battery. She gasped with indignity. “I told you, if we do the call, you can’t tell anybody about it. That means no recording or gossip or anything. Are we clear?”

“You’re acting like video chat is illegal,” Abby huffed irritably, taking her phone back while you held onto the battery.

“It’s kind of a… fuzzy grey area.” You shrugged, dialing home from your pocket so that Abby couldn’t see how you did it. “Ready?”

Abby nodded. You repeated your warning, that she wasn’t to speak of this, and she nodded again. “I get it, sweetie. Do you really think I’d go blabbing about this?”

“Yes,” you said flatly. Abby huffed and crossed her arms.

“Well, I won’t!” she scowled. “Do you seriously think I’m dumb enough to waste a chance like this because I want to lord it over the girls at track? I have  _ so _ many questions I don’t even know where to start-”

“so start with one.” A low voice chuckled from your phone. You held the screen up, angled so that Sans could see both your face and the astonished, open mouthed expression Abby adopted. Sans waved at her from Mutt’s spinning chair, the messy basement visible in the background. “hey there. I’m Sans. Sans the skeleton.”

Abby screamed.

You dropped the phone, rushing to cover her mouth and whisper reassurances to her before picking your phone back up from the dirt. 

“Hey, Sans,” you smiled at him, showing him that everything was alright despite the fact that Abby had gone white and started to shake. Thinking you’d give her a chance to breathe, you asked him, “How’s home?”

“eh, fine.” Sans shrugged, his lazy smile growing into a bemused one as his white eye lights examined Abby. “I still have about half of my chores to do. I’ll be glad when tomorrow rolls around and I never have to mop another ceiling.”

“That’s right, your deal ends then, doesn’t it?” You scratched at your chin, wondering. “I’ll have to think of what to bake you guys. Milord hasn’t been cleaning, right?”

“he tries to when he thinks no one is looking.” Sans smirked evilly. “I left the couch cushions on the floor while vacuuming and forgot about them. he went nuts.”

“Sans, you shouldn’t provoke him like that.”

“well, I put them back right away on Tuesday,” Sans shrugged and held up his wrist, turning the plastic bracelet over his bones. “not my fault I forget what day it is.”

“Did you put them back yet today?” you asked, your voice stern. Some of the color returned to Abby’s cheeks as she watched your conversation.

“maybe?” Sans shrugged. 

“You better check,” you said, glaring. “I told you not to taunt him like that.”

“I didn’t taunt him, he’s just a king. as in getting sofa king mad about it.”

A snort of laughter escaped you and Sans’ tumbling, melodic laughter drifted out of the speakers on your phone. Abby perked up, a timid smile on her face, and you turned the phone so that she was once more in the camera’s view.

“This is Abby, by the way,” you introduced, a smile still on your face. She gave a shy wave and her eyes widened as she reassessed Sans. Everything from his skull and the white lights in his sockets, to his blue hoodie, and the plastic bracelet around his bony wrist.

“Are you… are you really made of bones?” she asked quietly.

“last time I checked.” Sans held up a hand and examined it. “yup, just bones.”

“How are you held together?” Abby leaned forward slightly, encouraged by Sans’ laid back attitude. You smiled. Earlier this morning, you and Mutt had discussed who you thought would be the best brother for her to meet, and you knew now that Sans had been the right choice. Not only would it keep Mutt safe from the Underground’s law, but Sans had dealt with more humans than all his brothers combined. He was also the most likely to understand what you and Mutt were trying to do with the video chat, and the most likely to keep quiet about it afterwards.

“magic.” Sans held up one of his hands and twiddled his fingers, letting blue plasma gather and swirl between the joints. Abby gasped and watched as Sans showed off. She gave a small clap of delight as he let the plasma solidify into a bone and then banished it again with a wave of his hand. “what about you? are those black lines around your eyes natural?”

“Oh, no, it’s makeup,” Abby touched her the top of her cheeks and smiled at him. “So, um, do you go to university, too, or do you have some kind of…” Abby paused, checking herself, “a job?”

“nah, I’m retired,” Sans said vaguely and quickly changed the subject. “you’re in school though, aren’t you? what are you studying?”

“Nutrition,” Abby glanced at you and you handed her the phone, silently motioning that she should keep talking. “I, um, gave sweetie here some vitamins, since she told me you and your brothers are vegetarians.”

“did you?” Sans smiled as you picked up your sandwich and quietly ate. “thanks for that, then. it’s true, we only eat plants, and we don’t always know what humans need in their diets. I appreciate you looking out for her.”

“you… don’t eat meat at all?” Abby glanced at you, but you just smiled. You had no problem with her fact checking you.

“nope. monsters don’t have the same nutritional requirements you humans do. meat does nothing for us and honestly,” Sans made a bit of a grimace at the thought, “flesh doesn’t seem all that appetizing.”

Abby looked over to you, beaming. She returned to your phone with a new enthusiasm. “But, if you’re a skeleton, how do you eat? Does it all just fall through your jaw?”

Sans scratched at his chin and looked off screen, his eye lights flickering as he had a silent conversation, no doubt with Mutt, on what he could say.

“for my subspecies, at least, we have something in the back of our mouths called a void,” Sans leaned forward and parted his teeth, showing Abby his blue tongue and the blackness behind it where his esophagus would be. “when we ingest food, it holds it in a kind of magical reactor, where it then breaks apart what we eat to the atomic level, extracts what we need to send to our souls, then the rest gets sent to the quantum realm to be recycled back into the universe.”

“You have  _ souls? _ ” Abby breathed, hardly daring to believe it. You chuckled into your sandwich, remembering the first time Sans had told you about souls.

“every living thing has a soul,” Sans’ skull relaxed back into a lazy smirk. You could tell he was starting to get a little bored. “you, me, that fox under the shed… everything except plants.”

“How do you know?” Abby asked and you popped the last bit of your sub in your mouth. Time to intervene before Sans got uncomfortable.

“They can sense it,” you said, leaning against Abby so that the camera caught you again. “Hey, Sans, we got to go. Abby has class soon and I’ve got a long ride home.”

“sounds good, Thyme,” Sans’ eye light flickered like a wink. “oh yeah, one more thing. you know that project you gave me? I’m almost done with it. want to go stargazing with me as a reward?”

Your stomach flipped as you nodded, keeping the smile frozen on your face so that Abby wouldn’t pick up on anything. He was almost done compiling the timelines. Sans couldn’t hear your soul through the video feed, right? “Sounds good, Sans. I’ll keep an eye on the weather just in case it rains.”

“see you then,” his low voice said, just before he reached off camera and the screen went dark. You locked your phone as Abby squealed beside you.

“That was so  _ weird! _ ” She bounced on the ground as you put her phone back together and handed it back. “He was so  _ normal! _ Like, if you had blindfolded me and we left out the soul and magic stuff, I never would have guessed he wasn’t human!”

“Because he’s a regular guy,” you felt a smile pull at one of your cheeks as you watched Abby and her excitement. “Like you said, if you forget that he’s a monster and can do magic, all you’re left with is that he’s a nice person.”

“Do you think I could meet him face to face?” Abby asked, grabbing your hands to stop you from cleaning up the wrappers of your lunch. “Could I come to your house?”

“Eh…” You grimaced, thinking of Edge’s reaction when you first visited Lane 66. “I don’t think that’s a great idea.”

“Why not?”

“Because…” you shifted and looked up at Abby’s confused expression. Trying to think of a way to recover, you said, “because most of them haven’t met humans before besides me and they can get shy. Sans is an exception. If you really want to meet more of my housemates,” you sat up a little straighter, “then help me with my petition. Help me change the law so that they can come down here.”

Abby gasped loudly and started smacking your hands together enthusiastically. “That’s what you can do!”

“Huh?”

“To get more signatures!” Abby stood up, leaving you to clean up the wrappers on the ground. “I told you before, sweetie, if you want people to sign you need to find something they want and dangle it in front of them!”

“What do you mean?” you asked, holding the bag of trash as Abby pulled you to your feet and smiled broadly.

“Just ask them one simple question,” she said proudly, hooking her arm around your shoulders. “ _ Would you like to meet a monster?” _

“Abby, that would never work,” you sighed and heaved your heavy backpack off the ground. “Most people are terrified of monsters and the law would never allow it. It’s one thing to video chat with you, but I can’t do that for a bunch of people.”

“I was scared, too!” Abby pressed. “But I wanted to meet one so badly that I said yes to your video chat! You’re the one who knows the law on monsters, isn’t there a way to bring one down to help your petition?”

“I’m… not sure.” You scratched at your chin, seriously considering the thought. It was true that people would overcome small fears to sate their curiosity. It was why you went to Lane 66 in the first place. “If there were enough signatures, and a willing participant to descend the mountain, maybe. I’d have to see if I have to get some kind of permit or…”

“Well, there you go!” Abby clapped you on the back. “I get done with class at four today. Why don’t we try getting some signatures over by the stadiums? There’s tons of people there for practice around that time, I can help you.”

“Really?” You looked up, hopeful, and glanced down at your phone. “Yeah, I can do that. Just let me call the guys so they know I’ll be staying for a while longer.”


	27. Ch 25 - Stormy Nights

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey lovelies!
> 
> Thank you so much for your patience while I deal with all the chaos in the background. I appreciate you <3 So here's a nice, long chapter for you to pick over while I write the next one. 
> 
> Also, a huge thank you to all the comments and encouragement that you guys send my way. I really appreciate the support and I'm sorry I'm not able to reply to each one like I used to. Hopefully I can do that again one day, but in the mean time, know that I do see each one and they all make me smile.
> 
> Take care of yourselves!

Ch 25 - Stormy Nights

_ “Everytime I close my eyes I see a vision of you standing there  _

_ Even when we’re miles apart I feel you dancing at my feet. _

_ I can’t seem to breathe without you close _

_ I need to know that you are here _

_ Wrap my arms around you _

_ Dancing to the rhythm of our heartbeats.” _

You bobbed your head to the energetic, electronica beat coming from your headphones and watched out of the bus window as the landscape slowly lost the cul de sacs and their houses and turned into grass covered hills as you got closer to the mountain. A grin sat on your face and your fingers fiddled with the zipper of your backpack.

After Abby introduced you to her track team and told them about your petition you had hesitated to offer a meeting with a monster despite their semi-interest in what you had to say. But Abby took care of that for you - once she told one of her teammates and the word began to spread around they started to flock to you with questions. The other sports teams, football and hockey and baseball, all eventually heard what you were offering and you had faced a veritable mob of people. Abby helped you deflect their questions, telling them that if they signed they could have the answers after they met a monster for themselves. Abby had been right.

There was a lot of pressure on you now, knowing that the gossip would spread around campus and that you’d have to find a way around the law to bring someone down from Mt. Ebott, but you were overjoyed that people were reacting positively to such an offer. You had been worried there would be fear and prejudice, but that was not the case. Just like with Abby, it seemed like most people were just desperate for information. A small bit of reassurance and knowing that you could give them what the media couldn’t caused your clipboard to be passed around faster than a soccer ball during team drills. Somehow it had gotten out that you had been living with monsters and you would’ve been angry with Abby about that if it weren’t for the fact that you already had over a hundred signatures.

If you weren’t so concerned about being stranded in the city, you would have stayed later to collect even more.

_ “Deep into the night we stay _

_ Blinded by the lights we sway _

_ Love coming from the heat _

_ Seeing a kaleidoscope of us in color _

_ Kaleidoscopes are turning in me.” _

The bus slowed to a halt just past your stop and you stood up as the vehicle lowered itself with a tired hiss. As you adjusted your heavy bag on your back the elderly man who usually drove the bus reached out a wrinkled hand to stop you.

“Miss?” He leaned across his seat and you pulled out your headphones to listen. “You said you live up here, right?”

“That’s right,” you nodded and put your headphones and phone back into the pocket of your leather jacket. “Why?”

“Do you have any other way of getting home besides the bus?” He asked. You shook your head no and he ran a hand through his thin, grey hair. “Ah, I figured. No one uses the bus unless they have to… Do you have a friend who could give you a ride?”

“No,” your brow crinkled with concern at the worried tone the kind old man had used. “Why? Is something wrong with the bus lines?”

“Not in general,” he sighed. “But they’re not going to be going out this far by the end of next week. See, tourists and other folks used to come visit the national park all the time, but ever since monsters took over the mountain, you’re the only one that comes out this far anymore.” He looked at you apologetically, the crows feet at the corners of his brown eyes crinkling with worry as you stood there in shock. “The company just can’t justify running a route this far out of the city for one person.”

“Oh,” you said simply, your shoulders sagging.

“They’ll be stopping this route at the end of next week,” the old man reached into his bag on the other side of his seat and dug around for a moment. He pulled out a faded, black leather wallet with a tear in the side and handed you a glossy business card. “I know it’s not a lot of notice, but my son works at a bank and helps folks get small loans for things. He can help you get one for a car.”

You took the card from his veiny hand and stared at it, the happy bubble in your gut deflating somewhat. You couldn’t get a car loan, you had too much debt from school, and you didn’t have nearly enough money saved up to buy one outright. Not to mention you didn’t have a driver’s license. Back in high school you had gotten your permit, but your dad was the one teaching you how to drive and he couldn’t since the fire… You shook the thought from your head.

“Thank you,” you said honestly, noticing that the old man had grown more concerned from the look on your face. “I’ll figure it out. Thank you for letting me know.”

“Of course,” the old man waved at you as you got off the bus. “Take care, little lady.”

The customary hiss from the bus made its way up towards you as you got some distance away and the driver deemed you safe before pulling away from the stop. You turned the card over in your hand, wondering what you should do before stuffing it into your pocket with your phone. Mutt had told you once, during a discussion about this very topic, to just ask Sans for the money for a car. But how could you do that? That was way too much to ask for, no matter if you were in a relationship with him or not.

And Sans had enough on his mind.

_ “Every time I close my eyes I see a vision of you standing there,” _ you hummed softly to yourself, looking up towards the cloudy, blue and purple sky as the sun set and relishing the warm, wet breeze as it snuck in through the tears in your jacket.  _ “Even when we’re miles apart I feel you dancing at my feet.” _

Despite the setback, it was hard to keep that bubble of joy deflated for too long. You could figure out the car problem; that was nothing compared to the weight you felt when faced with failure for your petition. Now that it seemed possible, now that it was finally going right, you weren’t going to let that small issue ruin something you had been working so hard for. If you had to, you could just take a taxi for awhile. It was expensive to hire one, and it would take you even longer to save up, but you could manage.

_ “Deep into the night we stay, blinded by the lights we sway,”  _ you sang out to the woods, feeling the notes tremble and vibrate in your chest. For a brief moment you wondered if Axe was outside and listening. If he heard you, would he come to you?

As your boots hit the black pavement of the winding drive up to Lane 66 you knew that wasn’t likely. Music could influence a monster, but only for things they were already feeling or wanted to feel. You couldn’t compel Axe to speak to you again just by singing to him. He would have to approach you on his own or you’d have to chase him down.

You paused at the front door, your hand on the brass knob, and fell silent. You looked out at the woods for a glimpse of his blue hoodie or a rustled disturbance of the wet leaves. The hairs on the back of your neck were standing up and you knew someone was watching you. You really hoped it was Axe.

A soft conversation was drifting into the entrance hall as you took off your backpack and boots; setting the heavy bag on the oak stairs. The voices had the tinny sound of an old black and white and, as you peaked your head around the corner of the archway into the living room, a broad grin broke out over your face. 

Sans and Butch were sitting on the couch together, with Sans’ skull nodding with sleep while Butch had his knees up to his chest and his arms wrapped around them. Pap sat on the floor, one of his long arms draped over Sans’ legs. Mutt had laid himself on his side in front of the couch and had his skull propped up on one of his arms. ‘Casablanca’ was playing on the screen and you watched the guys watching, that joyous feeling in your chest swelling.

“Who picked the movie?” you asked, your eyes darting to each of them as their skulls turned to notice you. They could hear your soul... except, it seemed, they couldn’t notice it when they were completely distracted by something else.

“WELCOME HOME, HONEY!” Pap said enthusiastically, quickly rising to his feet to greet you with a hug. You laughed a bit as he picked you up off the floor, your feet dangling and swaying before he set you back down. “IT WAS SANS’ TURN THIS TIME, SINCE I PLAYED HALO ALL DAY AND MUTT PICKED THE MOVIE LAST TIME.”

“I see… Well, would any of you want to come help me with a cake?” You asked, your eyes drifting towards Butch and trying to hold his gaze. To your disappointment, he looked away and focused on the movie. You felt a stab of disappointment and tried to quickly recover before the others noticed. “I, um, wanted to make something special since… since the day went really well. I got over a hundred signatures!” you announced with a bit more enthusiasm. 

“That’s great!” Mutt rolled onto his back and grinned, upside down, at you. “I’m not really a baker, though. Unless you want me to taste test?” His glowing, burnt orange tongue darted out and played with the tips of his pointed teeth. You turned pink, unable to stop a flash of memory from the other night when you last saw that tongue and where.

“you’ll just be in the way,” Sans set one of his pink slippered feet on top of Mutt’s skull and chuckled as Mutt slapped it off. “let her and Pap work on it and surprise us.”

“FOR ONCE, I’M HAPPY YOU’RE SO LAZY,” Pap hooked his arm with yours and steered you from the living room. You looked back, wondering if Butch was going to come along at all, but Pap whisked you away before you could catch another glance of his face.

You looked up at Pap and the grin on his skull as you entered the kitchen together. “Thanks for helping me,” you said, smiling softly as Pap slowed to a stop and turned to you for instruction. It felt like it had been a long time since you had been able to cook with him because of your studies and you appreciated having a moment with him.

“OF COURSE!” Pap puffed his chest out proudly, as if nothing could make him happier. “DOES THIS MEAN YOU’RE DONE WITH YOUR TESTS? I’VE, UM,” he smiled shyly and a slight orange flushed appeared across his nasal ridge. “I’VE MISSED YOU,” he muttered, the color deepening as his white lights found your eyes.

“I’ve missed you, too,” you wrapped your arms around him and held him by his white chest plate. His long arms quickly returned the embrace and one of his mittened hands ran over the top of your head, brushing the hair out of your eyes. “I’ve got my midterms next week, but my papers are typed up and I’m feeling pretty confident with everything except calculus.”

“DO YOU THINK YOU’LL BE STUDYING ALL WEEKEND?” Pap asked, watching you as you gently extracted yourself from the hug to take off your leather jacket, lay it across the counter, and start pulling bowls out of the cupboards.

“Nope,” you looked over your shoulder, a sly smile on your face, knowing that he was asking about your date. “I’m not studying at all this weekend; I think I’ve earned a break. Besides,” you added, flipping your hair as you passed him towards the fridge, “I’ll need time to look my best for our date, you know.”

“WHAT DID YOU WANT TO DO?” Pap followed you, his voice becoming a little louder in his excitement. His white lights watched you pull eggs and milk from the fridge, along with a brick of cream cheese and a few sticks of butter. “I’VE ONLY BEEN ON ONE DATE BEFORE, SO I’M NOT SURE WHAT OTHER PEOPLE USUALLY DO ON THEM.”

“To be honest, I don’t know either,” you shrugged. Pap perked up at your admittance. “I haven’t been on a date since high school. My first boyfriend and I never really did anything besides hang out. I know most people say it’s dinner and a movie, so we could just hang out and watch movies after dinner? Or I could find some music we like and we could dance?”

“THERE’S THIS PLACE ON THE MOUNTAIN I’D LIKE TO SHOW YOU,” Pap took a whisk you handed to him and, with your instruction, started to cream the stick of butter with sugar. “WE WOULD HAVE TO DO THAT BEFORE DINNER, THOUGH. I DON’T WANT TO KEEP YOU OUTSIDE AFTER DARK EVER SINCE YOU TRIED TO WANDER OFF THAT ONE TIME.”

You stilled as you picked out a bottle of cardamom, wondering if Pap knew something about that warbling song. At the time, he and Axe said they hadn’t heard it, but what if they lied? You couldn’t hear the brothers’ souls, nor were any of them as easy to read as Red. “Do you think it only comes out at night?”

“WHAT DOES?” Pap asked, looking over at you as he handed the bowl over, ready for your next instruction. 

“That… whatever makes that song.”

“I KNOW SOME ANIMALS SING AT NIGHT,” Pap’s white lights narrowed and his skull tilted in confusion. It seemed like he honestly had no idea what you were referencing. “I CAN PROTECT US, HONEY, BUT MY MAGIC WON’T BE ANY HELP IF YOU GET INJURED AWAY FROM THE HOUSE. AXE HAS TOLD ME ON OUR RECENT WALKS TOGETHER THAT MANY OF THE FOREST’S PREDATORS ARE MOST ACTIVE AT NIGHT. I’D RATHER NOT TEMPT ANYTHING IF I CAN HELP IT.”

“You and Axe go on walks?” You paused in your measuring of the complex blend of spices for your cake and stared at Pap, surprised. Pap nodded, passing you the creamed butter and taking the bowl you pointed out to start making the frosting.

“HE SHOWS ME WHERE TO FIND THE MATERIALS I NEED,” Pap’s hand paused as he measured out powdered sugar and a broad smile broke out over his skull. “THAT REMINDS ME! YOUR GIFT IS DONE, I CAN GIVE IT TO YOU TOMORROW AFTER DINNER!”

“Pap, you didn’t have to do that,” you said, smiling softly as affection warmed your chest. Pap flushed orange, his eye lights softening at you.

“NO, BUT I WANTED TO,” was all he said before he reached out, tilted your chin up, and gently pressed his teeth to your lips for a kiss. You hummed with contentment, tasting the ghost of brown sugar on your lips as Pap returned to mixing the frosting you would need later. He really was too sweet.

“You know,” you said playfully, bumping his leg with your hip, “if you wanted, I’d like it if you spent the night with me after our date.”

Pap dropped the bowl, spraying powdered sugar all over the tile floor as his entire skull flushed orange. He stared at you, his eye lights wide, as you involuntarily giggled at his reaction.

“What?” you asked, turning pink under his astonished gaze. “I thought it would be nice, sleeping next to each other. We could stay up late chatting and then make breakfast together Sunday morning.”

“OH! Y-YOU MEAN ACTUAL-” Pap cut himself off and turned away from you to grab the towel from the stove. 

“Is that… not okay?” You picked the half empty bowl up off the floor, watching the side of Pap’s skull as his color deepened and he turned away to clean up the powder. You remembered the last time you had been a bit too forward with him and hoped that you hadn’t just made the same mistake. Should you have waited to ask him until after the date?

You quietly set the bowl in the sink and dampened the sponge to help Pap clean. You glanced over your shoulder, worry tightening your chest, and found him sitting on his heels staring at your lap.

“I… WOULD LIKE THAT,” his normally loud voice was subdued and he wouldn’t meet your eyes. “BUT I MENTIONED BEFORE, HONEY, I’M… NERVOUS ABOUT OUR DATE. LAST TIME I TRIED TO IMPRESS YOU I STARTED A FIRE. IF I’M LYING NEXT TO YOU I-” his voice drifted off. He sighed, mumbling quietly, “I’M NOT AS EXPERIENCED AS MY BROTHERS.”

Pap awkwardly returned to cleaning up the sugar on the floor and you paused, wondering at his strange drop in confidence. He had told you one that he had never courted someone, so it made sense that he was nervous, but it’s not like-

“Not true,” you took the towel from him and picked up his hand, giving his fingers a gentle squeeze as you finally figured out what he meant and sought to reassure him. You turned pink, your heart fluttering as you admitted, “You’re very romantic, Pap, and you’re a good kisser, too. You’ve always left me wanting more of you. And it’s not like I haven’t made mistakes either, like… that time I showed you those pictures without thinking. Or when I got all sweaty during my heat,” you mumbled that last line, feeling your face burning as you remembered him picking you up and setting you on the counter to go after you.

“WELL, THEN!” Pap got up on his knees to shake the sugar from the towel into the sink. You could just see the small smile tugging at the corners of his teeth. “I’LL JUST HAVE TO MAKE SURE TOMORROW GOES EXACTLY HOW I ENVISION IT! IT WON’T DO IF I MESS UP AGAIN AND TARNISH MY REPUTATION AS A GREAT ROMANTIC!”

“Have you decided what we’re going to do for dinner?” You asked, feeling excited now that it seemed like Pap had returned to his usual self. “I know it’s going to be just us, so maybe I should ask Edge if he’d want to cook for the others?”

Pap laughed, a loud booming noise that filled the kitchen. “HE’D NEVER DO THAT, HONEY. WE’LL HAVE TO COOK FOR THE OTHERS, TOO. BUT I HAD A GREAT IDEA. WE COULD MAKE-” Pap paused, his shining white lights turning towards the archway as someone shyly entered the kitchen. You turned your head, too, and saw Butch staring at the table, his bony fingers fidgeting with a hole in the sleeve of his red hoodie.

“hey…” Butch mumbled, his eye lights darting past you to glance at Pap. “sorry… I… um… can I talk to… um... for a minute?”

Your heart leapt into your chest. Butch wanted to talk to you? Did that mean he wasn’t angry with you anymore? You looked back at Pap, who was watching you with a curious flicker of his eye lights. “I’ll be right back,” you said, hoping he didn’t think you were leaving him while you were planning your date. “We’ll just be in the hall.”

“WELL… ALRIGHT,” Pap stood up, a bit of his disappointment in his tone. “I’LL START ON A NEW BOWL OF FROSTING IF YOU’LL GRAB A BROOM FROM THE CUPBOARD.”

You dropped the sponge into the sink, beat a bit of powdered sugar from the bell of your green dress, and followed Butch out into the hall. Between the sounds of metal in the sink from Pap cleaning up and the tinny conversation from the movie in the living room, you could barely hear Butch as he turned around and spoke to you.

“What’s that?” you asked gently, your eyes searching Butch as he mumbled.

His hand moved to his forearm, gripping the bones tightly beneath his holey red sleeve, and his brow furrowed. “why… did you do that?” he asked again; so quietly you almost missed it a second time. “you know I… hate Edge. why would… you go behind my back… like that?” Butch’s normally soft tone was hard, and when he did finally meet your eyes you could see his white lights had hardened into an angry glare. “I don’t understand… I thought you… you cared about me…” his gaze fell again.

“Butch, I do care,” you said quietly, reaching a hand out to him. Butch shied away and you quickly withdrew it to hold at the knot in your chest. “I wasn’t trying to hurt you, I was trying to help… Edge understands magic way better than I do and-”

“he can’t help!” Butch snapped, the light vanishing from his sockets. “he’s cruel to me… I thought you… knew that! I don’t want… anything to do with him!”

“I-”

“why didn’t you… ask me first?” Butch took a step towards you as gold plasma gathered around his fingers and filled the hall with the smell of maple. You shied away, your mind unable to figure out how to handle an angry Butch. He was always so mild, you must’ve really hurt him for him to act like this, and you hated yourself to know you caused this. “why did you… ask at all? I… trusted you…” Butch paused, seeing you pull away from his anger, and backed off himself.

“I’m sorry!” You said quickly, your eyes burning as you watched Butch wrap his arms around himself to hide the dripping plasma and look away once more. “I wasn’t trying to hurt you, I swear I wasn’t, that’s why I wanted to talk to Axe first! I wanted you to know you had our support if Edge was going to teach you how to control your magic, because he’s the only one in this house who can since he had a col-”

You clapped a hand over your mouth to keep yourself from spilling those words. Butch looked to you, a ghost of his white lights back in his sockets as he watched you struggle with yourself. If you told Butch what you knew, he would understand, but if you did, you would break your promise to Edge. If you did that, you knew Edge would never forgive you and what little trust he had for you had been so hard won.

“he... what?” Butch asked quietly, causing you to bite your lip behind your hand and blinked hard.

“I can’t…” you mumbled, knowing that the apologetic look you gave Butch wasn’t enough as he frowned at you. “I… I can’t tell you exactly what.”

Butch scowled at you, turned, and started to walk away. You felt yourself panic and quickly reached out to grab the back of his hoodie.

“I can’t tell you, I promised Edge I wouldn’t,” you pressed, despite the angry, black socketed glare Butch gave you, “but I  _ can _ tell you that he is the only one who understands exactly what you’re going through. Better than any of your brothers. He wants to help and you know I’d never let him bully you if he taught you.”

Butch paused, the lights slowly coming back to his sockets as his brow furrowed with confusion. You watched his teeth open and close slightly as he tried to silently figure out what you said.

“I already made him promise to let Axe be there,” you said gently, trying to help him see your reasoning. “Edge just wants to show you how to control your new magic. He promised me he would try to be gentle and to only teach you what you want to know.”

“how could he… understand?” Butch’s hand came back to pick at the hole in his sleeve. Feeling brave, you reached out and stopped him from making the hole bigger. He focused on your touch, his eye lights flickering before finally widening with clarity and darting up towards your gaze. “did he... have a… color change, too?”

“I didn’t say that,” you said quietly, watching his eye lights grow bigger as you added, “I only said he understands.”

“because… you promised?” Butch asked and you nodded vigorously. “that’s why… you’re sure… he can help me?”

“I know you’re unsure of your new magic,” you said evasively, “and that’s one of the things I can never truly understand about you or help you with. I can’t use magic, nor can I understand the concept of using it. Trust me,” you sighed, “I already asked Edge if he’d teach me instead, so I could show you how.”

“and... if I said… no?” Butch watched as your hand slowly, cautiously, found his and you laced your fingers with his. “or if Axe… won’t come, too?”

“Then I’d respect that. I’d never make you,” you breathed as he squeezed your fingers. “either of you, do something you don’t want to do. If Axe doesn’t want to be around Edge, I’ve already thought about who else would watch over you while you learn if that’s what you want to do. Sans would, and I’m sure Red would, too, if I asked him. But it’s your choice, Butch, no one else’s. If you say no, then I’ll see to it that Edge never bothers you again.”

His eye lights looked over your face, searching it, before he slowly pulled you in and wrapped his arms around you. You felt your eyes burn and your heart clench painfully as he whispered, “I just wish… you would’ve asked me… first.”

“I know, I’m sorry, I was stupid not to,” you held him back, squeezing tightly as you buried your face into his red hoodie and tried to calm yourself with the smell of maple. “I’m so sorry…”

“Lily…” Butch leaned away slightly and gently wiped at your face with his thumb. “don’t cry… I forgive you. I’m sorry… I was so angry.”

“You had every right to be,” you said stubbornly as Butch gently kissed your wet cheek. You nuzzled his cheekbone, grateful for his small display of affection after your fight. “I love you, Butch, I never want to hurt you.”

“I… love you too,” Butch mumbled, a dusting of gold appearing on his nasal ridge. “I’ll think about… what you said. have you… talked to Axe… at all since…?”

“No,” you sighed, feeling a small twinge in your chest. “He’s been avoiding me. I want to talk to him, but I know he needs time to sort out his thoughts, too.”

Butch hummed thoughtfully and dried your face with the cuff of his hoodie. “let me… talk to him. he doesn’t understand… either. but if I tell him… what you told me, then… you won’t break… your promise to Edge.”

“You’re sure?” you asked, looking up into his white lights. Butch nodded, hesitated, then gave you a quick kiss on the lips before he darted away.

“see you… at dinner, Lily!” he waved, his nasal ridge flushed gold as he disappeared up the oak staircase. You took a moment to watch him, your fingertips gently touching your lips where he had kissed you.

As you returned to the kitchen with a broom from the cupboard under the stairs, Pap looked over his shoulder and set something back on the counter. He returned to his bowl of frosting, a dusting of orange across his nasal ridge.

“IT’S BEEN GOING OFF,” Pap said sheepishly as you noticed your phone next to your jacket, your headphones a tangled mess that had crawled halfway out of your pocket. “I WASN’T PRYING, I JUST WANTED TO TURN OFF THE BUZZER.”

“That’s okay,” you said, smiling up at Pap to show that you held no hard feelings. You quickly picked up your phone to check what it was, and saw you had more than a few notifications. One was from the weather alert, showing that there would be a thunderstorm in the area tonight and to expect high winds. The other was a stream of texts from Abby.

Condensed, they surmounted to:  **‘Hey, sweetie! The team and I are getting together for a party tonight, you should totally come! It’s byob and Jenny has this awesome strobe light we’re setting up in her basement for the dance floor. I know you’re dating someone, but we invited a bunch of guys from the football team, too.’**

A bunch of emojis were sprinkled throughout the messages. You pursed your lips, staring at the last of the texts. Why would you care if there are guys there? You had your pack here and they were more than enough.

**‘Sorry, hun, I’m actually in the middle of cooking dinner with Pap. The weather’s not looking so great, either, and I don’t want to get caught out in the storm.’**

Satisfied that you had given Abby a gentle hint, you set your phone back on the counter and quietly started to sweep the remaining powdered sugar off the floor. 

“EVERYTHING OKAY, HONEY?” Pap asked, noticing your irritated expression.

“Just… Abby.” You sighed and dumped the contents of the dustpan into the garbage beneath the sink. “I know she’s trying to be social, but I also know what she’s up to.”

She might be trying to change her ways, but you knew she was still racist enough to try and set you up with a human guy instead. Maybe she thought the sight of all those athletes would make you forget the guys you already loved. You exhaled sharply through your nose - the guys in this house were yours and you would be damned if you let some stupid jock think he could take you away.

Pap watched you wring out the sponge and wipe up the last bit of sugar the broom had missed. “I THOUGHT IT WAS SOMETHING BUTCH SAID. I COULD HEAR YOU WERE UPSET FROM HERE.”

“Huh? No, that… was something I did,” you mumbled, upset with yourself for hurting Butch like that, then feeling a small relief that he had forgiven you. “I made a mistake and he was angry with me.”

“BUTCH WAS ANGRY?” Pap said with so much disbelief in his voice that you couldn’t help but laugh.

“Yeah, I can mess up pretty bad sometimes,” you chuckled, then remembered the weather alert. “Oh, Pap, do you know if the basement leaks?”

“WHY WOULD IT?” 

“I’m not sure. I thought I’d ask because there’s supposed to be a bad storm tonight.” You pointed at your phone to show him how you knew, then moved to finish prepping the batter for your cake. As you passed Pap’s bowl of frosting, you swiped a finger through it and gave him an approving nod from the taste test. “Mutt has a lot of electronics down there. It would be really bad if the basement flooded or… or if something sparked.”

“DON’T WORRY, HONEY,” Pap came up behind you and wrapped his arms around you. “WE’VE HAD STORMS HERE BEFORE AND THE MOST THAT’S EVER HAPPENED WITH THE ELECTRICITY IS THAT THE LIGHTS GO OUT FOR AWHILE.”

“You have?” you asked curiously, watching Pap as he took the cake pans from you to put into the oven for you.

“SURE,” Pap put a hand on his hip and gestured towards the window above the sink, where the trees were already swaying ominously in the wind. “WHEN WE FIRST MOVED IN, WE HAD A TREE FALL INTO THE SIDE OF THE HOUSE. WE HAD NO POWER FOR A WEEK - I HAD TO FIX THE WIRING AND THE HOLE IN THE WALL. RIGHT WHERE THE WINDOW IS BY THE TABLE, THERE USED TO BE A DOOR THERE. I THOUGHT ABOUT REPLACING THE DOOR, BUT I THOUGHT A WINDOW WOULD BE BETTER.”

“You made that?” You turned toward the far window beyond the cabinets, marveling at how seamlessly the brick wall blended. 

“OF COURSE!” Pap puffed his chest out proudly. “I FIX EVERYTHING THAT BREAKS HERE, OR CHANGE THINGS THAT NEED IT. WE ONLY HAD FOUR ROOMS WHEN SANS, MILORD, MUTT, AND I FIRST MOVED IN. I HAD TO SPLIT THEM WHEN WE TOOK IN EDGE AND RED, AND THEN AGAIN WHEN BUTCH AND AXE CAME.”

“You didn’t move in all together?” You slowly put the frosting into the fridge, amazed at Pap’s building talent. That explained why there were so many rooms on the second floor, and why they all seemed so long. “I know that Butch and Axe moved in a little later, but was it really just the four of you at first?”

“YUP!” Pap leaned against the counter and bent closer to you, his loud voice hushed, “MILORD AND SANS HAD TO WORK IT OUT TOGETHER. MILORD IS IN CHARGE OF SURFACE VISAS FROM THE HOA AND SANS HAD THE MONEY TO BUY THE HOUSE. MUTT GOES WHERE MILORD GOES, BUT SANS REFUSED TO LEAVE WITHOUT ME.” 

“The Home Owners Association does visas?” You raised an eyebrow. Pap shook his skull, his brow furrowing slightly at your words.

“I DON’T KNOW WHAT THAT IS,” he shrugged, “BUT I’M TALKING ABOUT THE HOTLAND OVERWORLD ASSIMILATION. THEY’RE A SUB COMMITTEE OF THE GUARD PUT TOGETHER TO EVENTUALLY HELP MONSTERS MIGRATE TO THE SURFACE. UNDYNE ONCE THOUGHT I’D BE GOOD THERE, AS A REPRESENTATIVE, BUT I DON’T LIKE THE THOUGHT OF ALL THE PAPERWORK THAT WOULD COME WITH THE JOB.”

“Does that mean there are more monsters living on the mountain?” You asked hopefully, wondering if you could have the chance to meet more of them. You knew that skeletons weren’t the only type of monster, but you had never seen any other kinds. “Do you know any? Could we go see them?”

“EH, NO ONE ELSE BUT US LIVES UP HERE, HONEY,” Pap gently picked you up and sat you on the counter so you could be closer to his level. “THERE’S A VERY LONG WAITING LIST FOR VISAS AND THEY’RE VERY EXPENSIVE, NOT TO MENTION THERE AREN’T ANY OTHER HOUSES YET. SANS BOUGHT OURS FROM THE OWNERS OF THE NATURE PRESERVE. THE REST OF THE UNDERGROUND HAS TO WAIT UNTIL THE VILLAGE IS BUILT.”

“There’s a village?” You squealed with excitement and Pap looked slightly angry with himself. “Where is it? On the mountain, obviously, but is it close?”

“NO, IT’S ON THE OTHER SIDE, BUT YOU’RE NOT SUPPOSED TO KNOW THAT,” Pap hushed you with a mitten over your mouth and you nodded at him. “I ONLY KNOW BECAUSE UNDYNE AND I STILL TALK WHENEVER I VISIT THE UNDERGROUND AND SHE TELLS ME THESE THINGS. SHE’S ONE OF THE ONES APPLYING FOR A VISA.”

“Why don’t you help?” You took Pap’s hand away from your mouth, your eyes shining. “You’re a fantastic builder! You could help build the village and, if you need something, you could ask me! I can get ahold of any human companies that might help you with lumber or concrete or pipes… I could help you build a nice library for the other monsters!” 

“THAT’S OKAY, HONEY,” Pap’s eye lights softened and he ran a hand over the top of your head, “YOU DON’T HAVE TO DO ANYTHING FOR IT, THE HOA IS WORKING ON IT JUST FINE. YOU DON’T NEED TO SPEND MONEY.”

“I wouldn’t have to.” You raised an eyebrow at him. “I know I can’t afford construction materials, I was just offering to get your HOA in contact with companies.”

“OH. GOOD.” Pap stiffened up, awkward, and you noticed his eye lights glance back at your jacket. Your eyes narrowed as a creeping suspicion filled your mind.

“Pap,” you asked sweetly, watching him turn away from you. If skeletons could sweat, he would be. “Did you look through my pockets?”

“NOT ON PURPOSE!” He said quickly, flushing orange, and you narrowed your eyes at the signs of a lie. “IT WAS JUST FOR YOUR PHONE, I SWEAR, AND THEN EVERYTHING ELSE JUST KIND OF… CAME OUT WITH IT!”

“So you put it all back in without looking at it?” The tips of your fingers drummed against the dark marble counter as he looked sheepishly away. You weren’t angry if he looked, you had nothing at all to hide, but you didn’t like that he did look and then wouldn’t admit it.

“I WAS JUST CURIOUS,” he sighed, and you felt your irritation deflate. “I WANTED TO SEE WHAT THAT NOISE WAS COMING OUT OF YOUR HEADPHONES, THEN THE PHONE STARTED GOING OFF AND EVERYTHING CAME OUT AND I TRIED TO PUT IT BACK IN BUT I DROPPED THINGS…”

“It’s okay, Pap,” you placed a hand on his shoulder and offered him a half smile. “You can just ask me if you want to see. I don’t mind at all sharing things or explaining human stuff to you.”

“DOES SANS PAY YOU ENOUGH?” Pap asked bluntly, catching you by surprise. He quickly explained, “I’VE HEARD MILORD GETTING ANGRY WITH SANS FOR NOT PAYING YOU ON TIME AND I FOUND A CARD IN YOUR POCKET FOR A BANK LOANER. DO YOU NEED MORE?”

“No.” It was your turn to look away sheepishly and run your fingers through your hair. “I don’t need money, I have enough to pay for school and take care of myself.”

“THEN WHY DID YOU HAVE THE CARD?”

“The… bus driver gave it to me,” you admitted, your cheeks pink. “The route to the mountain is shutting down next week and he was worried that I didn’t have the means to travel. But I do!” you added quickly, seeing Pap staring at you with a strange expression. “I can hire a taxi when I need to go to school, I’ll just have to be smart about how to take trips and use the buses when I’m travelling around the city.”

Pap hummed thoughtfully, turned your face towards his, and placed a gentle kiss on your lips. “NOPE, NOT GOOD ENOUGH,” he shook his skull, pushed off the counter, and strode out of the kitchen.

“Where are you going?” You called after him, confused why he would leave and concerned that you said something wrong.

“TO SPEAK TO MILORD!”

“Why?”

“I’M NOT SUPPOSED TO TELL YOU!” Pap called back cheerfully, leaving you stunned on the counter. What in the world did he need to talk to Milord about right at this moment?

You slid off the counter and hurried to the archway as you heard Pap call Mutt and Sans out of the living room. Making yourself small, you hid behind the wall and watched Pap herd his brothers upstairs, that sense of confusion growing in you. Why would Pap need them, too?

The temptation to follow them was almost overwhelming. Pap told you things he shouldn’t all the time, why was this secret one he couldn’t say? You bit your lip and looked back over to the stove where your cake was baking. 

If it was money, you thought as you went over to the stove to check inside the glass, then you would just turn it down. If it was something else, then you would find out eventually. You trusted them; why would you ruin their trust by prying too much? They would tell you when they wanted to.

~~~

“these are really… good, Lily,” Butch said from his seat next to you, reaching for another roll from the plate across the table. You smiled warmly at him and handed him your butter knife to use the rest of what was on it. His decision to seek out the place next to you for dinner made you feel more confident that he had actually forgiven you.

This did, however, only make it more apparent that Axe was not sitting next to him. He was across the table, on Milord’s other side, moodily stabbing at his ratatouille and refusing to talk to anybody despite Mutt trying to start up a conversation with him from across the table. Pap chimed in every now and then, trying to help Mutt, but eventually they gave up and let Axe be antisocial and talked to each other instead.

Sans sat on Milord’s other side, the two speaking together in hushed tones with their skulls nearly touching. Milord did not seem pleased, his scowl and the occasional waft of frost made that clear, and Sans seemed as equally frustrated with his furrowed brow and glances towards the rain pounding against the windows.

You returned to Butch, who seemed genuinely interested in the proper way to make dinner rolls in order to get that fluffy center and crispy crust, and tried to avoid the crimson pair of eye lights that had been staring at you throughout dinner. You had tried talking to Red at first, to ask about his day or offer to pass him things, but he just irritably narrowed his lights and refused to talk to you, too. Your plan, if it would work, was to chase him down after dinner and apologize for throwing so many things at him. If he was still refusing to use magic around you, it would be harder for him to run away.

Edge, always on Red’s other side, was eyeing you and Butch with a curious flicker in his eye lights. You had caught him a few times already throughout the meal trying to catch Butch’s eye light, but you glared at Edge and shook your head. Edge glared back at you, his grip tightening on his fork, but thankfully said nothing to Butch.

“You’re not going out in this storm, are you?” you asked Edge, noticing once again that his sharp teeth had parted, his red lights trained on Butch, who was doing his best to make himself small under Edge’s gaze. “It’s supposed to be really bad, could you stay home instead?”

“NO STORM COULD BEST ME,” Edge glared at you, his tone sharp and carrying across the table.

“Still, high winds are dangerous,” you pressed, trying to keep his attention so Butch could eat in peace. “I know you’re strong, but even you should give pause to the forces of nature. Thunderstorms can do more damage than blizzards. You’re so tall, what if you draw lightning while out on the mountain? The rain could cause mud or rock slides since the grass hasn’t really grown yet, or what if the wind catches a dead tree and it falls on you?”

Edge finally looked at you, a strange half sneer on his face as his red lights flickered. “...WHAT ARE YOU IMPLYING, PET?”

“That you should stay safe.” You looked up and held his gaze, swearing for a second that his eye lights softened at you, just before he flipped what was left on his plate all over you with a resounding clatter. The plate hit your nose and it stung, while the food dripped down the front of your dress and the red sauce stained the material. Anger rose hot and fast in your gut and your face burned with its heat.

“FUCK OFF!” Edge snapped, standing so fast that his chair toppled backwards. You brought your hands up, wiping the ratatouille out of your eyes and heard him storm from the room as the rest of the table got quiet.

“you okay, Thyme?” Sans’ low voice, laced with concern, was the first to speak. 

“I’VE HAD IT WITH HIM!” Pap stood up from the table, a scowl on his skull and the light dangerously close to vanishing from his sockets. “HONEY DOES NOTHING BUT BE KIND AND HE ACTS LIKE SUCH A JERK TO HER. I’M DONE LETTING IT HAPPEN!”

“No, Pap, it’s okay,” you reached back and caught Pap’s forearm before he could storm off and pick a fight. He didn’t notice you grabbing him, at first, until the scrape of your chair from him dragging you caught his attention. “Really, everyone, it’s fine. I pushed him too far this time. I should’ve known better.”

“but... you just sounded… worried?” Butch tilted his skull, confused by what he said. Across from Butch, Red pulled at his face with a skeletal hand, hiding his expression, and his eye lights looked you over and the mess you wore.

“It’s fine,” you said firmly and stood, glancing at everyone in turn to show them that no harm had been done. Axe, who had been quietly watching exchange with dark sockets, looked away when you reached him. “Really, go back to dinner. I’ll just clean myself up and be back before you know it.”

“One of us should accompany you,” Milord’s cool tone stated. Before Mutt could even make it halfway out of his seat Red practically jumped out of his and grabbed your shoulder.

“got it,” he growled, his crimson lights daring any of his brothers to challenge him. Milord glared at him and you could feel the sparks fly between them from across the table. “ain’t none of yeh got what it takes teh fight Edge.”

“I do,” Sans raised a bony brow, a small frown set beneath his glare.

“I don’t need a bodyguard!” you snapped, smacking Red’s hand off your shoulder. “Edge is an asshole, but he’s not out to get me! Stop acting like I can’t change clothes by myself!”

“Robin, that’s not-” Mutt started to say, but you stormed out of the kitchen before you heard the rest.

It was just stupid, you thought as you stomped down the hall, your face burning with embarrassment beneath the sauce. It was sweet that the guys wanted to protect you, but there was a point of being overprotective. Edge wasn’t out to kill you anymore, he was just a major jerkwad who had a huge ego and liked to push everyone around.

The cool water from your bathroom sink felt good against the heat in your cheeks. You took a moment to gently wash the thick sauce away with a towel and soap, making sure to clean your neck and unbutton your dress to get as much as you could off of your chest.

Did you sound worried? You wondered as your anger finally started to fade and you replayed those few minutes in your mind. All you had been trying to do was distract Edge. It was true that storms were dangerous, but it was true he could take care of himself. Is that why he had gotten so angry? He thought you were worried for him?

You looked down at the white towel, now stained red with tomato sauce, and wondered if it was a bad thing to worry about him. If you truly worried at all. It’s not like he was ever nice to you, or really any of the others. The only thing you could think of that he tried to do for his brothers was teach Butch and even that was a stretch because of Edge’s bullying. Did making a sandwich for Sans once count?

“hey, Dollface?” A knock at your door interrupted your thoughts and you turned to see Red standing halfway out of the doorway. No doubt he was expecting you to throw something.

“I said I don’t need a bodyguard,” you snapped, more chill in your tone than you were intending.

“that ain’t why I followed yeh.” Red growled and came into the doorway, his crimson eye lights wary as he watched you wet your brush and get the little bits of sauce out of your hair.

“Okay,” you sighed, trying to let your anger go as you turned to face Red with the brush in your hand. He was the last person you wanted to lose your temper at, especially when you already knew you should apologize for what you did. “Then why did you follow me?”

Red’s mouth hung open just slightly and his lights drifted down towards your chest. You looked down, wondering if you had more sauce on you, and with a jolt realized that half of your breasts were exposed. You quickly covered them, your face burning again, and your hand squeezed the brush tightly. Red noticed the tiny moment and took a step back, his hands up in the air.

“fer fuck’s sake woman, if yeh don’ want me teh look at yeh, stop showin’ me!” Red snarled, his eye lights sparking dangerously above his crimson flush. “an’ stop throwin’ shit at me when I’m tryin’ teh make it up teh ya!”

“Make it… up to me?” you repeated, the brush growing slack in your hands. Your brow furrowed together as you thought back to dinner, to him staring at you. Had he felt like it was his fault you had gotten angry and had been trying to find the words all night?

“no shit,” Red rolled his lights, his gaze coming to rest on the doorknob to avoid looking at you or your chest. “yer covered up more n’ a whimsun, n’ it figures th’ only times I see yeh yer in a bitchy mood.”

“Okay,” you said slowly, glancing at yourself in the mirror and spotting bits of sauce still in your hair. “Yeah I... I wanted to talk to you, too. Can it wait until after I clean up and change?”

Red, through grumbling with impatience, said nothing as he ripped open the door to your room and stomped up the stairs. Your eyes followed the sound through the wall and you turned back to the sink, wondering what in the world you were going to say. Sorry, for throwing things at him, but what then? You had decided to keep quiet about knowing his past, but what if he got angry that you didn’t tell him you knew?

It wasn’t long before you heard Red approach again. He threw your grey sweater and a pair of Mutt’s black sweatpants that had made it into your laundry on top of your head.

“hurry up!” he growled, then slammed the bathroom door shut.

“Geez, Red,” you pursed your lips as you stripped off the soiled dress in favor of the sweater. “I said I would talk to you and we have the rest of the night for that, why are you in such a hurry?”

“cuz I don’ wanna do this,” Red grumbled from the other side of the door. You paused, hearing his skull thunk against the door, as you pulled on the sweatpants. “an’ I don’ like doin’ shit I don’ wanna do.”

“Then why do it?” You asked, opening the door just enough so Red could see you wanted out. He backed away, his hands stuffed in the pockets of his black hoodie, and kicked at the ground with his sneakers as he looked at your door.

“cuz I should show yeh,” Red said quietly, his crimson lights flickering towards your legs. “cuz it ain’t right if we’re not even.”

“Red, you don’t have to,” you said gently and placed a hand on his shoulder. He looked up at you, his lights softening as they found your eyes. “I know I was a bitch when you saw me. I’m sorry for that. I never should have thrown all that stuff at you. I was just… angry.”

“yeh don’ gotta explain that teh me, Dollface.” Red gave you a haphazard grin. It immediately fell away again as he glanced once again at your door.

“If you really want to talk,” you stepped forward and opened the door for him, offering the way, “then we can. Or we can just enjoy each other's company for awhile.”

“yeh know I ain’t good with tellin’ yeh shit,” Red said as he hesitantly climbed up the stairs. “nah, it ain’t somethin’ I can say. but that don’ make what I wanna show yeh easy.”

“Show me what?” 

He didn’t answer, but he had started nervously pulling the white fur from the lining of his hood while you took a seat on the edge of your bed. You patted the spot next to you and Red shook his skull. Instead, he wandered over to your dresser to investigate your ceramic horse head and the growing plants. With a small fizzle of irritation, you noticed he had pulled all your clothes from the dresser and left them in a pile on the floor.

“...were yeh really worried fer him?” Red asked quietly, the horse head in his hands as he turned it over to examine the detail in the stone. One of the ears fell out and he snatched it out of the air faster than your eye could follow. He glanced over at you, a slight crimson on his cheekbones, and quickly put the horse back on the dresser.

“You mean Edge?” you asked as you pulled your feet up to sit cross legged. Red nodded and you stared thoughtfully at the socks still covering your feet. “Yeah, I… I guess,” you scrunched up your nose as you tried to figure out how you felt. “I know he can take care of himself, but even he’s not invulnerable. I know it would be hard for you if anything happened to him so yes, I meant it.”

“do yeh care fer him?” Red tilted his skull slightly, his lights wavering as he stared at you. You shifted uncomfortably and looked away.

“Not intimately,” you said slowly, not sure what Red wanted by asking that. “I mean… I could see us being friends eventually, but we’re not at that point yet. We don’t trust each other well enough. ...why do you ask?”

Red kicked at your pile of clothes, knocking the pile over, before he fidgeted again with his fur lining and sat down at the other end of the bed. “cuz I ain’t never seen him turn black like that,” Red said quietly, staring at the floor. “after he threw his plate at yeh… I dunno if th’ others saw it er if they were lookin’ at him at all. they watch you, Dollface, not him.”

“You’re saying Edge… likes me?” You stared at Red, your eyes wide with shock. “How? He’s never... Maybe as friends? But even then-!”

“look, we didn’ have anyone like yeh growin’ up.” Red growled softly, a note of frustration in his rough voice as he ran a hand over the top of his skull. “we ain’t use teh kindness. we ain’t used teh someone wantin’ nothin’ after they give somethin’. that ain’t how our world worked. I grew up knowin’ th’ worst of it n’ he did, too. if someone was nice teh yeh, they wanted somethin’ eventually. I taught him not teh trust people like that cuz all it did was get yeh used n’ thrown away once yeh ain’t useful no more.”

You stilled at the first real mention Red ever gave you of his past. Last time he had only talked about Edge, but you knew how much he cared for him so it made sense that Red would put Edge first. What did he mean by ‘the worst of it’? Was it related to him being, or becoming, a boss?

“when I first saw yeh,” Red turned his skull to look at you out of the corner of his sockets, “an I mean when I saw what yeh hid, an’ I heard yer fear ‘n pain…” Red stopped, growled angrily at himself, and fell onto his back on your bed with his palms pressing into his sockets. “I thought yeh were like me! I thought… I didn’ know humans don’ see scars the same way monsters do. I thought yeh…”

Red growled again, clenching his fists in anger so that his sharp finger tips scraped down his brow. You quickly reached out a hand and gently placed it on his ribcage. He started at the touch and his hand smacked yours away, while his lights were for just a moment the pinpricks of fear. You recoiled, holding your hand from the shock of him hitting you.

“no! I didn’ mean-!” Red caught your gaze, snarled, and leapt up from the bed. Before you could say anything he was roughly pulling his hoodie off and had thrown it into your face.

“Red, wait, what are you doing?” You pulled the hoodie from your eyes in time to see Red pull off his scarlet turtleneck. He stood with his back facing you, his ribs moving as he breathed heavily.

“what I meant teh do,” Red slowly turned, holding the fabric up to his ribcage to block your view of it. “I told yeh, Dollface, I don’ like us not bein’ even. I saw yer scars… so I want yeh teh see mine.”

“Red, stop, hold on,” you jumped from the bed, the hoodie falling to the floor, and caught his hands before they moved. “I don’t want you to do anything because you feel you owe me. If you want to show me, then do it because you want to, not because you feel obligated.”

The only sounds were the rain pounding against the glass, the wind howling, and the thunder rolling outside as you and Red stared at each other. His crimson lights softened at you and a smile tugged at the corners of his sharp teeth.

“...I want teh,” Red said, the back of his knuckle coming up to trace your jawline. “cuz yer th’ only one who’s ever touched ‘em so fuckin’ gently. cuz yer th’ only one who’s ever meant what they said,” he cupped your cheek, his teeth so close to your lips you could feel his hot breath on your skin, “an’ I want yeh teh know me. cuz I think yer th’ only one that might stay once they do.”

He kissed you so softly that you thought you might melt from the mere heat of him. Red tossed his turtleneck aside, pulling you in close so that your hands were trapped against his ribcage. You turned your fingers to feel the slim bones beneath them while Red made your head go fuzzy with the taste of mesquite given off by his hot, dancing tongue. You closed your eyes to him, to try to paint a picture of what he wanted you to see before he pulled away.

There were nicks and dents all over what should be smooth bone. Cracks that snagged on your soft fingertips and deep rivulets in some places that made you wonder how he hadn’t broken that part yet. Red shuddered at your gentle touch, his soft groan drowned out by a loud crack of thunder that sounded overhead and plunged the room into darkness. You squeaked in surprise and Red pulled you into him, immediately tense, as his crimson lights darted around.

“blackout,” he growled. You held him tightly, unable to see anything in the sudden dark except his glowing eye lights. “yer fine, Dollface. ain’t nothin’ teh be scared of.”

“I can’t see in the dark,” you pointed out, letting Red guide you back towards the bed.

“yer fuckin’ kiddin’ me.” Red’s rough voice said, full of disbelief. You shook your head, knowing that he could see you, and you heard him give an irritable growl. “fuckin’ figures. I make up my mind teh do this, an’ th’ fuckin’ world gets in my way! of all the damn bullshit-”

“It’s okay,” you let your hand trail down his arm to find his hand, then gave it a reassuring squeeze. “I’ll still see it, I want to. You can still show me tonight after we get the power back.”

Red grumbled darkly under his breath, his lights turning towards the rain streaked window. A flash of lightning filled the room with light, followed closely by a rumble of thunder that shook the floor. But in that brief second, you could have sworn you saw something shiny covering Red’s chest. That had to have been a trick of the light.

“Why don’t we go downstairs?” you offered, your thumb running over the back of his hand. “Pap said he fixed the power last time, we should find him and ask if he can check the breakers.”

“yeah, alright,” Red growled, clearly not thrilled at the idea. He took his hand back and you watched his crimson lights rise and move around. By their glow, you watched Red find his turtleneck and pull it back on over his skull. “jus’ wait here, Dollface. yeh don’ need teh go stumblin’ around in th’ dark.”

“Wait, I want to come with!” you reached out as you heard his sneakers squeak slightly against the wood, watched his eye lights vanish down the staircase, and let out a frustrated growl of your own. “Dammit, Red, I wanted to make sure everyone was alright, too!”

Grumbling to yourself, you slipped off the bed and tried to find your phone to use its flashlight. With another irritated sigh, you remembered that it was still downstairs with your jacket. You considered your lighter for a moment, it was right next to your incense, but the idea of holding the small flame for too long sent a cold shiver down your spine.

With one foot cautiously reaching out, you let muscle memory guide you towards the narrow stairs. If Red had just taken a moment to lead you, this wouldn’t be so difficult. You knew he was trying to open up and he wanted you to stay so that the others didn’t distract you, but dammit you just wanted to check on them and make sure no one did anything stupid. You didn’t want Axe going out in this gale for any reason, or even Edge. What if Butch was nervous from the sudden darkness or Mutt was anxious for his computer?

You thought there was one less stair on the staircase, overshot the landing, and tripped over your feet. You brought your arms up, expecting to fall right into your door, but instead you fell through the darkness and landed on the hardwood floor.

“Son of a..” you hissed to yourself, holding your elbow in one hand as you winced from the pain. At least you found the second story. “Guys?” you called out, hoping one of them would find you in the dark before you tried to tackle the wide, oak steps. You tilted your head, hearing voices drifting up from the entrance hall, but no one seemed to have heard you.

“Okay, it’s fine,” you encouraged yourself as you gingerly got back on your feet. “Just one more story and then it’s a straight shot to the kitchen. I can do this.”

You reached out blindly with your hands as you tried to find the wall or the door to your bathroom to help guide you to the stairs. The cautious touch only found air as you nervously took a step forward, knowing that there was a railing somewhere to stop you from falling into the entryway. But you didn’t remember the hall being  _ this _ wide, or-

A swooping feeling filled your gut as your foot found air and you fell forward. At the same moment, a hand grabbed the back of your sweater and held you at a tilt over the open darkness. Your heart pounded in your chest as he pulled you back onto solid ground and you turned quickly to find him with your hands.

“Thank you!” you sighed in relief, finding his body and pulling him close to squeeze him tightly in gratitude. “I can’t see anything right now, I would’ve fallen... Thank you!”

“THEN DON’T WANDER IN THE DARK, IDIOT,” Edge’s sharp voice cut through the black and you stilled. You looked up to find his red lights flickering at you, like he was confused about something, before you felt the back of his gloved hand push you away. “AND DON’T TOUCH ME. I WON’T TELL YOU AGAIN, PET.”

“Sorry,” you squeaked, your brain sputtering as it tried to understand why Edge, of all people, would stop you from falling down the stairs. He seemed to enjoy watching others suffer… did that mean Red was right and Edge liked you? That was such a strange thought that your mind couldn’t comprehend it.

Edge didn’t say another word to you as his eye lights drifted away, then vanished behind the click of his door. You stood there for another moment, your hands twisting the bottom of your sweater, before you sat down on the floor and turned around. The stairs had to be right behind you, and if you were on the ground you couldn’t fall.

“Sans?” you called out, once you were slowly lowering yourself down the staircase with your hands on the twisted bars of the railing. You listened for another tone you recognized, adding, “Mutt? Pap? Anyone?”

The smell of damp wood filled your nose and you turned your head to see Sans’ white lights flickering at you. “what are you doing out of your room?” he asked, his hands finding yours and helping you to your feet. “Red said he left you in there. you’re not afraid of the dark, are you?”

“No, I was worried about you boneheads!” You huffed. Sans chuckled and you felt his fingers squeeze your arm.

“well, to shed some light on the situation,” you saw his smirk as blue plasma bubbled up in his hand, taking the shape of a glowing bone that he handed over to you, “we’re fine. darkness doesn’t bother us. the only one who’s a little bent out of shape right now is Mutt.”

“Where is he?” you asked, grateful for the soft blue glow and Sans’ touch that helped you down the rest of the stairs.

“the kitchen.” Sans shugged. You nodded once and held the blue bone aloft as you hurried towards the noise beyond the archway, tugging Sans along behind you.

“-SAID I’D TAKE A LOOK, BUT THERE’S NOTHING WRONG WITH THE BREAKERS!” Pap said irritably to both Mutt and Red, who were scowling and glaring up at him. “WE HAVE TO WAIT UNTIL THE STORM PASSES BEFORE I CAN FIGURE OUT WHAT’S WRONG!”

“That’s not good enough!” Mutt snapped, his raspy voice filled with irritation. “You don’t get it, Pap, I’m blind here! I can’t have my systems offline, not just for us, but for everyone! That computer is the center of it all, Mettaton can only handle so much before he-”

Milord cleared his non-existent throat loudly as you entered and Mutt fell silent, his red lights sparking angrily at his brother’s cool demeanor.

“Part of his purpose is for this exact situation, is it not?” Milord’s icy tone said, his purple lights narrowing at Mutt from across the table, where some of the remains of dessert still sat. “This is why I stress that you prepare for every eventuality.”

“Oh, fuck off!” Mutt snapped. “I don’t need your high and mighty attitude right now!”

“just calm down,” Sans’ low tone casually drifted away from you and you watched from the glow of the blue bone as he opened up the fridge, took out a trio of bottles, and thrust one into Mutt’s hand. “Pap’s right, there’s nothing we can do about the power while it’s storming. you’ve got backups, right? so just kick your feet back and stop freaking yourself out.”

“Easy for you to say!” Mutt growled irritably, popped the cork of the bottle, and downed half of its contents in one go. Red’s crimson lights followed his movements enviously. A drop of the condiment fell on Mutt’s sharp teeth and he licked it away with his burnt orange tongue before rounding on Sans. “Your work doesn’t rely on electricity!”

“Since when are you so adamant about your duties?” Milord asked sarcastically. Mutt scowled and you stepped forward to take Mutt’s sleeve in your hand.

“It’s okay,” you said soothingly as Mutt jumped slightly at your touch. He must be very stressed to not have noticed you, or the blue glow you carried to light your way. “We’ll fix this, Mutt, don’t worry.”

“Robin…” Mutt’s red lights softened just before he pulled you into him. You gently rubbed his back while he squeezed you tightly, trying to give him comfort despite feeling Red bristle beside you both.

“let go a her yeh piece a-” Red started to growl, but Sans came and shoved a bottle of mustard in his hand and Red’s surprise silenced his irritation.

“how about this?” Sans turned to his brothers, taking a swig of ketchup as he did so. “Pap, take one more look at the breakers just so Mutt doesn’t get his panties in a twist. Milord, you’ve got work, right? let us take care of the rest, but check on Butch and Axe once in awhile so Axe doesn’t sneak past Butch and out of the house.”

“What makes you think you can order us around?” Milord said coolly, glaring at Sans as he took another drink of ketchup.

“I’m the oldest.” Sans shrugged. “and someone’s gotta keep an eye on these guys,” Sans gestured over his shoulder with his thumb at you, Red, and Mutt.

“Despite your attempted display at responsibility,” Milord rose from the table and got in Sans’ face with a few clipped strides, “I find that visage difficult to maintain while you hold vinegar in your hand.”

“just one to calm the nerves, bud,” Sans clapped Milord on the shoulder and Milord quickly shooed his hand away. “you should try it sometime.”

“JUST DON’T HAVE TOO MUCH,” Pap warned Sans. “YOU KNOW HOW YOU GET.”

“Zeta,” Milord passed close to you, his frosty voice hushed as you turned your head towards him over Mutt’s arm, “Should you get uncomfortable…”

“I’ll come find you,” you smiled, earning a small grin from Milord in return before he turned on his heel and left the kitchen.

“AND YOU!” Pap poked the bone between Mutt’s eye sockets. Mutt grinned and snapped playfully at Pap’s fingers, his slightly foggy lights flickering. “DON’T YOU DARE USE THIS TO TAKE ADVANTAGE OF HONEY!”

“Aw, come on, Pap,” Mutt muttered and nuzzled the top of your head. “I’m upset. I just want some comfort.”

“THAT’S EXACTLY WHAT I’M TALKING ABOUT!”

“It’s okay, Pap,” you smiled weakly up at him as Mutt tightened his grip around you. “We’ll be with Sans and Red, and I’ll make sure Mutt doesn’t doesn’t take advantage of me. I appreciate you doing what you can to fix the lights.”

Pap frowned, his white lights glancing at something behind you. He hurriedly grabbed you and pulled you away from Mutt just as Red tackled him to the floor, his sockets going dark.

“I said git offa her yeh mangy piece a shit!” Red snarled and smacked Mutt in the brow with his bottle of mustard.

“AT LEAST THERE’S RED TO KEEP MUTT IN CHECK.” Pap sighed, watching his brothers wrestle on the floor before Sans hurried over to break them up. “DO YOU WANT TO COME WITH ME INSTEAD, HONEY? I COULD USE AN EXTRA PAIR OF HANDS.”

“I… think I should stay,” you watched with concern as Sans put Red in a headlock, trying to pry him off of Mutt’s chest. “These guys might break something if they’re left to their own devices.”

“THAT’S FAIR.” Pap nodded, his white lights flat with exasperation as he watched the others. “I DON’T NEED ANYTHING ELSE TO FIX… THANKS, HONEY.” Pap kissed the top of your head and stole out of the kitchen before Red could notice the affection.

“Guys?” You turned back to the heap of skeletons on the floor, both of your hands gripping the blue bone to shine its lights on them. “Can you settle down before some gets-”

Mutt yelped as Red sank his sharp teeth into his forearm. The light vanished from Sans’ right socket, flickering blue and yellow in the left one as he prepared to use his power, but you rushed forward and smacked Red on the skull with the bone in your hands.

“Knock it off!” You snapped, glaring at Red as he glared back at you. “Seriously, if you’re all going to act like this, go get drunk in your room on your own! Or, if you’ll act like a mature adult, we can sit down and drink together!”

Red stilled, his crimson lights widening at your words. Sans felt Red’s hostility drain away and his lights returned to their normal white. Mutt looked up at you from the floor, a grin on his skull.

“you drink, pretty bird?”

“Not really,” you said shyly, holding the bone closer to your chest, “but if you guys behave, I’ll have one with you. I seem to remember I told someone, once, that I would,” you added, glancing up at Red.

“...whaddya want?” Red asked, remaining on the floor as Sans and Mutt got up around him. Sans took a swig from the bottle of ketchup he had stashed in his pocket, while Mutt wandered around the kitchen looking for his bottle that had rolled away.

“Um, I have rum.” You glanced at your cupboard, the thought of drinking it without a mixer caused your stomach to clench. “Do we have any cola?”

Red’s nasal ridge wrinkled in disgust. “th’ fuck kinda drink is that?”

“humans drink alcohol,” Sans explained to him while you opened the fridge and used the blue light to search for a soda. “it’s our equivalent to vinegar.”

“Has anyone seen my hot sauce?” Mutt asked from under the table. Sans rolled his eye lights and sauntered off to help him look.

You closed the fridge, not spotting any soda, and thought about what else you could use. Pineapple juice might help take the edge off the spice, or at least go well with it. You had a few cans of that in your cupboard for baking.

As you took the can from your labelled shelf, another crack of thunder sounded outside and startled you into dropping it. Red snatched it out of the air, having followed you over from the fridge, and held it out to you.

“yeh sure yer fine?” He asked quietly, his rough voice kept low.

“I’m fine, it’s just thunder.”

“not what I meant.” Red stopped your hand as it reached to open the juice and he sighed heavily. “look, I know I made yeh promise this but… after what yeh said,” he turned his skull and held your gaze, “yeh don’t gotta if yeh don’t wanna.”

Your eyes searched his skull, illuminated by the blue glow. His crimson lights were soft and he wore a slight frown that made his golden fang sparkle in the dim light. Affection welled up in you, knowing that he remembered your reluctance to agree to drink with him and also knowing he was trying to say it was okay to take it back.

If he was ever going to get you drunk and take advantage of you, would he do that? Would he look at you now with concern or try to show you his scars if he was planning on selling you? It was really, really hard to believe that now. You knew how hard it was to show someone something painful to you. 

“I’m fine,” you said softly, letting your fingertips trail gently over the back of his hand as you moved to open the can of juice. “Let’s just start with one and see how I feel. Who knows? Maybe I’m different enough now I won’t fall into that mood.”

“an’ if yeh do?” Red raised a bony brow, his skull turning slightly at the strong smell of pineapple that wafted out of the can.

“Then comfort me,” you said simply, handing the rest of the can over to Red to taste as you made your mixed drink. He sniffed it once, curiously, then threw back the dregs of the juice into his jaws. You smiled, watching his eye lights brighten at the tropical flavor while you took a sip of your own drink. The strong spice of the rum made you shudder. Maybe you should have used less.

“hey Mutt,” Sans stood up from over by the stove, wiggling the bottle of hot sauce in his hand. Mutt grinned at him from over by the window and held up his hands to catch the bottle as Sans tossed it over.

“shit, yer halfway done already?” Red chuckled, watching Mutt gratefully take a swig from the half empty bottle. “who’da thought the slut would finish first?”

“Oh, haha,” Mutt stuck out his burnt orange tongue. “Watch out, Sans, we’ve got another comedian in the family.”

“that’s fine, I know I’ve got better jokes,” Sans smirked as you took a seat at the table with him, the other two shortly joining you. “I just bottle them up.”

You giggled at the pun and Sans’s lights shined with encouragement. It was so much easier to see the little changes in their lights when everything else was dark.

“what do you call someone who’s anti-pencil?” Sans asked you. You shrugged, sipping your own drink to nurse it. “an erasist.”

Your giggle intensified, unaware of the glares Mutt and Red were giving Sans. 

“Why can’t you trust atoms?” You asked Sans. He shook his skull, grinning as he waited for the punchline. “Because they make up everything.” 

Sans cracked up, his melodic laughter filling the kitchen and sending a surge of light through the blue bone in front of you. Grinning, and wanting the others to laugh, too, you turned to each of them in turn. “Hey Red, why is it so hard to tune a piano?” Red shrugged at you, bewildered by the question. “Because the keys are on the inside.”

Mutt started to snicker, possibly more by Red’s confused expression, so you asked him, “Mutt, what do hackers do on a boat?”

“What?” Mutt chuckled, his grin wide.

“Phishing.” You said so seriously that it took Mutt a moment to figure the pun out. When he did, his red lights glowed brightly and he joined Sans with his raspy laughter, smacking Sans in the shoulder.

“You’ve got competition, bro!” Mutt held the side of his skull, trying not to drop his hot sauce.

“Hey Red,” you purred, wanting to get him to laugh at least once, too. He turned slightly crimson at your mischievous look and you took another sip of your drink. “What’s a mountain’s favorite kind of music?”

“eh…”

“Hard rock.” You smirked as the joke redoubled the laughter from Mutt and Sans, who were now holding onto each other to stay in their chairs. “Oh, come on Red, I thought that one would’ve won by a landslide, it didn’t have any cliffhangers.”

“Thyme, stop,” Sans grabbed onto your sleeve, wiping a drop of blue plasma out of the corner of his socket. “you’re killing me, please.”

“It’s only a couple rib-ticklers, tibia honest,” you shrugged, trying to hide your smile with the lip of your glass as Sans finally fell out of his chair, taking Mutt with him. You noticed Red sink in his chair, the bottle of mustard visiting his teeth, but he had a scowl on his face and was watching the three of you enviously. “Hey Red,” you started, and he glared up at you.

“if this is another fuckin’ pun…” he growled at you.

“Nope, just a joke. Two guys walk into a bar. One said ‘ow’.”

Red stared at you in disbelief, but you caught the small tug of a smirk at his teeth and the shine of his lights before he buried his face in his hand. “fer fuck’s sake, Dollface, yer better than that shit.”

“are you kidding me?” Sans pulled himself up with your chair and hugged you. “if she tells jokes like this, I’m getting her drunk more often!”

“I’m not-” you held up your nearly empty glass, staring at it for a moment before you realized how much you had to drink already. “Oh. Guess I’m getting there.”

“Oooh! We should play a game!” Mutt slapped his hands on the table, excited. “Let’s go play Smash!”

“There’s no power, Mutt.”

“Oh yeah…” Mutt stared at his empty bottle, shrugged, and sauntered off towards the fridge to search for a new one. You stared after him, noting the slight sway to his walk and wondering if you should cut him off.

“don’cha got a deck a cards, Dollface?” Red asked you and you nodded, vaguely remembering that you had a plan for him and Sans when you drank together.

“They’re in my room. The top drawer of my dresser, by my…” you trailed off, narrowing your eyes at Red before you said the word ‘underwear’. Then again, you did remember that he had pulled out all of your clothes into a pile. “...clothes.”

“I’ll get ‘em,” Sans chuckled, ruffling your hair before he disappeared in the blink of an eye, leaving the smell of damp wood behind.

“Dollface, gimme that,” Red jumped up onto his chair and pointed at Sans’ ketchup bottle. 

“Why?” You asked, shaking your head. “If you’re going to do something funny to his drink… that’s not funny.”

“nah, nothin’ like that,” Red reached across the table, scattering a plate covered in cake crumbs, and snatched the bottle from beside you. “yeh wanna see somethin’ funny? I’ll show yeh funny.”

“Ooo, are we getting Sans hammered again?” Mutt asked, leaning on the back of a chair as he drank from a new bottle of hot sauce, his foggy eye lights following Red. “This is gonna be glorious.”

“Shouldn’t we not get him drunk, though?” You looked between Mutt and Red, worried, as Red spiked Sans’ ketchup with a healthy dose of mustard. There was one time, when Sans explained the vinegar thing to you, that he also told you that ketchup was like beer while mustard was the equivalent of hard liquor. “He’s told me before he doesn’t like being like that. And Pap warned him, too.”

“Don’t worry, Robin,” Mutt slurred and leaned on you, his skull resting on the top of your head while Red growled his disapproval at the touch. “It’s hilarious. I drink with Sans all the time. He’s funny when he gets drunk.”

“yer a buncha lightweights,” Red downed the rest of his drink, crushed his empty mustard bottle in his hand, and threw it at Mutt’s skull where it bounced off with a hollow thunk before skittering across the floor. “yeh ain’t even had two an’ yer fallin’ all over th’ floor.”

“Hey, my sauce is closer to yours than ketchup is.” Mutt pointed just to the left of Red. You took this as a sign he was drinking a bit too fast and gently eased him into the chair while taking the hot sauce out of his hand. Mutt smirked, taking the touch as something more than you intended, and pulled you into his lap. “Doesn’t mean still I can’t perform, when I want to,” he purred in your ear, causing your face to flush with heat. “And you’re already in my pants, pretty bird.”

You felt your color deepen as he ran a hand over the black sweatpants you were wearing. Red growled angrily again and you heard the wood of the table getting crushed beneath his fingers as he tried to hold himself back. No doubt he already would’ve pounced if you weren’t in Mutt’s lap and blocking the way.

“Calm down,” you said, gently tapping Mutt’s skull with the butt of the bottle. “You too,” you said to Red as you got up and picked up your empty glass. It wouldn’t be a bad thing to have just one more, right? You had everything under control. You were the alpha and you were in charge. The thought made you swell with confidence.

“Aw, come on, Robin,” Mutt whined from the table, his arms draped over the back of the chair. “I’m just teasing you.”

“We talked about this,” you brandished the glowing bone at him before dropping it onto the counter with a clatter. “You know you’re supposed to not make anyone else jealous. Get along.”

“That’s just pack rules,” Mutt huffed. “You haven’t marked Red, yet. So why can’t I have some fun?”

The other can of pineapple juice slipped from your hand and rolled across the floor, your hazy brain struggling to accept what Mutt just said. What did he mean...

“yet?” Red asked quietly, his crimson lights wide as he looked over at Mutt.

“MUTT!” You shouted, swiping the can off the floor. “Ican’topenthissocomeopenitformeplease!”

“Huh?”

“OPEN THE FUCKING CAN!”

Mutt slid across the floor in his haste to obey. When he got to the counter next to you, you swiftly reached up, hooked your fingers through his collarbone over his t-shirt, and pulled his skull down to your level. “Do  _ not _ say things like that to Red,” you hissed, your eyes narrowed at him as hot anger pulsed in your soul. “If you’re drinking too much, then stop and get a hold of yourself. I love you, but Red and I are  _ not _ ready to have that conversation.”

“Yes, ma’am.” Mutt said quietly, taking the can you handed to him and opening it with a pop from his pointer finger. You released his collarbone and he hurried back over to the table to slouch in his chair next to Sans, who had reappeared and was shuffling a deck of cards while he looked between his brothers, confused.

“everything okay?” Sans asked, raising a brow at you as you took a hearty swig of your drink. Two shouldn’t hurt. The first one made you happy and you made the others happy. You just needed to calm down, that extra shot of rum would do that.

“‘m fine,” you sighed, avoiding Red’s eye lights as your face flushed pink. “Let’s just play some cards for a while. Do you guys know how to play euchre?”

“nope, first time,” Sans smiled at you, bringing a shy smile to your lips. 

You excitedly launched into an explanation of the game, showing Sans how to separate the cards and deal them out before explaining the rules to the guys.

“Mutt and I can be partners for the first game,” you said, looking over at him as he glanced up hopefully at you. You gave him a small smile, to show him that you weren’t still mad, and he returned it tenfold. “Once one team reaches nine points, then we’ll switch partners.”

“Where’d you learn to play?” he asked, his raspy voice cautious.

“My dad taught me. He and my mom used to play with me on our game nights. But if you play with three people instead of four, the game is called ‘dirty clubs’ and there are no partners.”

“So, if we can play with just three people,” Mutt said thoughtfully, looking across the table, “Sans, whaddya say to having Red join us on our drinking nights? Then we have enough people to play.”

“sure, I’m fine with that,” Sans shrugged, looking curiously between the three of you again. “as long as Red’s okay with it, too.”

“huh?” Red snapped out of whatever daydream he was having and looked between his snickering brothers. Mutt repeated the offer and Red narrowed his lights suspiciously at him. “eh, whatever. yeh bunch a’ pansies can’t hold yer drink anyway. least if I’m with you idiots Pap’ll have teh pick me up more sauce.”

As Sans dealt out the first round, you beamed at Mutt. Even drunk, he remembered that you were trying to get Red to do more things with his brothers and Mutt’s offer made you very happy. Maybe Red wouldn’t remember that small slipup after tonight. He didn’t seem to remember a lot when he drank, anyways, so maybe the one thing he should take from this night is that his brothers want him around.

When the third round ended and Sans dealt out the fourth, you felt yourself sway in your seat slightly as you finished out your drink. Red, who had taken Mutt’s neglected bottle of hot sauce, watched you curiously with hazy (or were they foggy?) lights and you picked up your cards the wrong way around. Sans pointed out that they could see all your cards and took them back from you to reshuffle.

“How you doin’, pretty bird?” Mutt asked you, his fingers gently trailing down your back so that you hummed in delight.

“I wanna burger,” you announced. The guys looked over at you and you clarified. “A double stack, cooked medium rare, with sauteed mushrooms and toooons of melted cheese on top with fried onions, pickles, ketchup, and mustard,” you finished, drooling slightly at the vision. “And when ya bite into it, it gets all this tasty juice on the plate so I can mop it up with my fries.”

“...well damn.” Sans smiled, his and Red’s eye lights hazing at you. “that does sound good, Thyme.”

“Is Pap up?” Mutt asked, looking to Sans as Red stared at you, his lights hazing to the point of vanishing as you fantasized about your burger.

“nah, it’s late. he went to bed hours ago,” Sans waved the thought away and looked over at the lifeless stove. “we can’t cook… so…”

“Oh! What if I order delivery!” You shot up, excited at the thought, and then sank back into your chair as a rumble of thunder reminded you it was still storming out. “Aw… stupid weather. I’m hungry ‘n there’s never any leftovers.”

The kitchen was quiet, save for the pounding rain on the glass of the windows, until Red suggested quietly, “how ‘bout Grillby’s?”

“Don’t be dumb,” Mutt said immediately, his eye lights closer to normal than any of his brothers since he had stopped drinking. “We can’t make it to the Underground on our magic alone and Robin would kill us once she’s sober and hears we went out in the storm.”

“maybe not alone…” Sans said slowly, his low voice thoughtful, “but together, with our magic pooled, we could make it there.”

“How would you get back?” Mutt pointed out, “More importantly, you can’t take us! I’m not supposed to exist and Red’s banished!”

“only if no one sees us,” Sans countered, a devilish grin on his skull that made Red cackle in delight.

“yeh do get fun when yer smashed, don’t yeh?” Red elbowed Sans in the ribs and they grinned at each other.

“Let’s just get something else,” Mutt sighed, shaking his skull before he gently touched your back again. “What else do you want, pretty bird?”

“...grilled cheese.” you huffed, your chin resting on the table as your head swam. “Edge makes those. Why does he make so many? Reeeed?” you rolled your face to the side and looked up at him. “Why does Edge make so much grilled cheese?”

“ho-lee shit she’s shitfaced,” Red snickered again as he swayed over to your side. “I dunno, Dollface,” he purred as he draped his arm over your back. “yeh wanna ask him?”

“Edge would kill us if we bugged him in the middle of his day for a grilled cheese.” Mutt wandered over to the fridge and opened it up to stick his skull inside. “We can make that, it’s just… bread and cheese, right?”

“And butter!” you called out, reaching for Sans’ hand so you could pull him closer to you, too. “Mutt, come over here and cuddle with me while Mutt makes the grilled cheese.”

Mutt paused, a stick of butter in his hand as he looked back at you, confused as to what you were asking of him. He noticed just in time that the combined weight of you, Sans, and Red was too much for the chair and rushed over to catch it before you all toppled over. He gently lowered it to the tile, his red lights flickering between worry and irritation to see his brothers holding you so close.

“There you are,” you purred, pulling him into the pile on top of you while Sans and Red curled up on the tile at your side. “These are  _ my boys! _ ” You announced to the kitchen, nuzzling their skulls affectionately as they stifled their chuckles. “My boys. ‘S right, I love you all an’ I’m gonna make you know it!”

“she really is drunk, isn’t she?” Sans grinned, looking at Mutt and Red with a strange flicker in his eye lights. “how should we take care of this, then? just layin’ it out there, I could whoop both your asses at the same time.”

“She’s  _ my _ alpha,” Mutt glared at Sans. “Unless she’s marked you, I don’t think you have a say.”

“yet.” Red’s crimson light flickered a wink at Mutt and you felt a hand move underneath your sweater over your stomach. “yeh ain’t th’ boss a her, slut. remember how she cowed yeh earlier?”

“she’s done that to all of us,” Sans mentioned, a blue flush rising to his nasal ridge. “she’s made all of us know who’s on top.” At Sans’ wording, you felt Red’s skull heat up against your cheek and you smiled sadly. 

“Know what I reeeeally want?” You mumbled, your half lidded eyes staring up at the ceiling. “I don’t want this to go away. I want us to stay together forever. Even if Axe is mad and Edge is a jerk and, and, I don’t care! I love you guys and you’re all I have in this world. You’re  _ my _ boys and nothin’s taking you from me. Just...” you sniffed loudly, your eyes welling up with tears that blurred the dimly lit kitchen, “just promise me,” you said quietly, feeling your heart twist, “promise you won’t go like mom and dad. Promise me you’ll never turn into ash and leave me all alone.”

Mutt, Sans, and Red stared in shock as you suddenly started bawling on the tile, your head filled with painful memories of what you used to have and how it was taken away. You tried to turn beneath them, to crawl away to the counter where the bottle of rum waited for you to drink it until you couldn’t remember anymore, but you felt their hands pull you back and wrap themselves around you.

“Of course we promise, we don’t ever want to leave.”

“we don’t want this to stop, either…”

“you two,” Red poked at Sans and Mutt to get their attention. “go teh th’ livin’ room n’ lay all th’ cushions on th’ floor. ‘n grab blankets.”

“For what?” Mutt asked him, glancing at you. “Robin’s right here, she needs us-”

“no shit!” Red snapped. “she wants all a us teh stay, so that’s what she’s gonna fuckin’ get! but we ain’t got a bed big enough fer four people, so fuckin’ make one!”

“so, you’ll watch her, Red?” Sans held your hand tightly, his white lights searching your tear streaked face as Red nodded. Mutt opened his mouth to protest and Sans let go of your hand to put his on Mutt’s shoulder. “let’s hurry up so we can get Thyme comfortable.”

Mutt glanced at Red, hesitating, his tightening grip on your arm making it clear he didn’t want to leave.

“yeh ever drink yerself inteh th’ pit?” Red asked him quietly, his crimson lights flickering as they held Mutt’s gaze. “no? then yeh don’ know what it’s like. I got this. fer once, I know what teh do an’ I’m just loose enough teh do it.”

“Five minutes,” Mutt mumbled, his hands tightening into frustrated fists as soon as they left you. “Five minutes, and we’ll have it set up. Bring her then.”

“yeah, yeah, I ain’t gonna keep her here on th’ floor,” Red growled, watching as his brothers vanished and left the scent of clove and damp wood to linger. Red readjusted himself so he was sitting cross legged and pulled you up off of the tile and into his lap, gently guiding your head until it rested against his turtleneck. “easy, Dollface,” he said softly, his rough voice just loud enough to be heard over your sobs. “jus’ let it out.”

“He left me,” you choked out past the lump in your throat. You twisted your fingers into Red’s shirt and buried your face into it. “Dad left me there, on the lawn! I know I’m supposed to be grateful but if he had just stayed I wouldn’t have been so alone! He could’ve taken care of me. We could’ve grieved together and he could’ve stayed with me so that I wasn’t so fucking angry in that plastic prison! He could’ve distracted me from the pain with his stupid jokes and his classic rock but he went back! I love my dad so much, so why do I still hate him for it? Why do I still wish I would’ve died in that fire with him? Why do I love my mom, but hate her for making him save her, too?”

Red didn’t say anything right away, but you felt his arms squeeze you tightly and his skull rest against the top of your head as you bawled. “I dunno, Dollface. people do shit like that when they care. Edge hates me fer what I did, but I did it all fer him.”

“It still hurts,” you said quietly, your breath hitching as you soaked the fabric against your face. “Every time I cry really hard, I can feel it all over me. I can feel my skin cracking open again and the blisters leaking and I can smell the disinfectant and feel it burning everything…”

“an’ when yeh close yer eyes, yeh can see it all, can’t yeh?” Red asked quietly. You nodded against him and Red buried his face into your hair. His rough voice was muffled, “I get it, sweetheart. more ‘n yeh know. I… fuck, I’m sorry. I wanted this teh go different but… I didn’ know yeh got like me when yeh had too much.”

You sniffed, a small throb forming behind your eyes from crying so hard, and rested your forehead against Red’s collarbone. Something about what he said didn’t sit right and your sluggish mind questioned that. “Why… what do you mean, different?”

“this,” Red drew his face from your hair and gestured back towards the table. “I wanted yeh teh be happy. I wanted to calm down n’ getta hold a myself so I could… try teh tell yeh about me. cuz I know as soon as I sober up my words ain’t gonna come out right.”

“...you don’t have to,” you mumbled quietly, glancing up at his face out of the corner of your eye. “I know. You were a boss.”

You felt Red stiffen slightly beneath you before a rough chuckle slipped through his teeth. “ah, Doll, that ain’t what I meant,” he ran a hand over the top of his skull and leaned back, propping himself up with that arm as he looked down at you. “so... yeh know what that means, right?”

“Yeah,” you nodded, but stopped quickly as that pressure behind your eyes throbbed again.

“n’ yeh don’ care that part?”

“I do,” you shifted on his lap uncomfortably, but his arm pulled you in back close. “It scares me… but you’re not that person any more, right? You’re tryin’ to change.”

“yeah, guess so.” Red shrugged, his lights flickering as they stared at the rain running down the window. “I’m real shit at it, though.”

“But you’re tryin’,” you sniffed again as you wiped your face with your sleeve. “So… what did you wanna say? What did you mean to say?”

“everythin’.” Red mumbled, his voice almost getting lost in a roll of thunder. “from th’ dusty beginnin’ teh th’ bitter end.” His hand came up to twirl a lock of your hair between his sharp digits and he looked down at you with soft eye lights. “cuz I get yeh, Doll. yeh don’ gotta tell me everythin’, cuz I lived somma that shit myself. that’s what I was tryin’ teh show yeh before this damn storm fucked th’ night up.”

“But… but monsters are… proud of their scars?” you furrowed your brow as you tried to think, your mind like a soupy haze that you couldn’t pry any information from. “Right?”

“yeah, but not like th’ ones I got.” Red turned his skull towards the archway, listening. “I figured I’d show yeh anyway, cuz then it’d make me tell yeh why n’ what happened. n’ now it’s…” Red growled slightly and you felt the vibration of his ribs. “fuck, it’s harder now, cuz I don’ want that yet teh be a never…”

“The what?” you looked up, confused, and Red caught your chin with his knuckle.

“if I tell yeh,” he whispered, his breath hot on your face, “an’ yeh don’ leave, even then… I promise yeh I’ll follow yeh teh th’ ends of th’ earth. get me?”

“I got you,” you said, squeezing your arms around his rib cage and earning another small, rough chuckle from him.

“alright, hold on, Doll,” Red sighed and scooped you up so that he was holding you bridal style. He slowly got to his feet, careful not to tip you, and made his way out of the kitchen. “vanilla an’ th’ slut outta be done by now.”

“Why d’you call Mutt a slut?” you asked, moving one of your hands so it could hold onto Red’s ribs. 

“cuz my boys fed his habits, once,” Red grumbled darkly. 

As Red rounded the corner with you, you got a glimpse of Sans and Mutt pairing up to lay a blanket across a checkerboard of cushions. “About time!” Mutt huffed, his red lights eyeing where Red’s hands were on you. “How is she?”

“stopped cryin’,” Red brought you over and laid you in the center of the cushion sea. Red glared at the look Mutt gave him. “what, yeh think I was gonna make it worse?”

“Yes.”

“fuck you.”

“come on, guys,” Sans rolled his eye lights and climbed over you, laying his skull on your chest as he wrapped his arms around your waist. “if you’re gonna fight, fight over left or right. I call middle.”

“Hey! You don’t get to decide that!”

“well, you two hens took too long.”

“yer an asshole, vanilla.”

You giggled as Red curled up on your right side and Mutt soon followed on the left, bringing another blanket to pull over all four of you as you lay there in the dark. You smiled, feeling their warmth as two skulls rested against yours and a third grinned into your chest.

“I love you guys,” you mumbled, the alcohol making your lids heavy and the rain pounding on the windows coaxing you towards sleep. Mutt kissed the side of your head, whispering the words back to you. Sans squeezed you tightly, showing you he meant it back while Red, his skull heating up against your cheek, grumbled under his breath and intertwined his fingers between yours under the covers.


	28. Ch 26 - Silver and Gold

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey all, thanks for being so patient with me between updates. You're all beautiful people. Also, for this chapter, we hit some pretty rough stuff. So... proceed with caution. Y'all have been waiting for this for a long time, just please take your time.
> 
> I deal with rough stuff now and then. Again, please proceed with caution. I use a mature label for a reason and it's not just because of the smut.

Ch 26 - Silver and Gold

A rumble of thunder shook the windowpanes in the living room. You opened your eyes to the dark, your stomach in knots and a cold sweat on your forehead. Acid sat at the back of your throat and your body remembered that feeling of warning. You needed to get up, but the three bodies lying next to you and the net of their arms kept you pinned to the cushions.

“Guys, I need to get up,” you mumbled, feeling your stomach turn over and your skin turn cold. You shook Mutt, trying to get him to wake, but despite cutting himself off halfway through the night he had drunk enough to sleep like a rock.

Sans was no different. He mumbled in his sleep and tightened his arms around your waist when you tried to shimmy out from beneath him. You groaned and searched the dark, the discomfort in your stomach increasing. It wouldn’t be long.

“Red, please” you moaned desperately, shaking his shoulder, needing someone to wake up and pull you from the mess of bodies before you made a real mess.

Thankfully, you watched Red’s sockets crack open and his crimson lights flicker into existence. “sup, Doll?” he grumbled, propping himself up on his elbow and rubbing at the fuzzy lights still forming as he woke. The smell of vinegar still on his breath made your stomach lurch painfully.

“Bathroom,” you pulled at his red turtleneck, trying to use as few words as possible and keeping your mouth tightly shut as bitterness rose into your mouth again. Red’s lights flickered at you, sleepily processing what you said. The first dry heave shook your shoulders and you burped, “Now!”

His lights snapped into focus and Red jumped onto his knees, pulling you from his brothers before you threw up on them. Hauling you away by your arms, Red cursed under his breath, pulled your sweater up over your face, and you felt the pressure of the void as he pulled you into the true dark.

You felt the cool tile of your bathroom hit your hands and you scrambled, searching blindly for anything you could release the bile burning your throat into. You found the curve of the bathtub and retched loudly, feeling some of the hot liquid soak your sweater before you could pull it away in time.

“th’ fuck’s goin’ on?” Red asked, concern filling his rough voice as you threw up into the tub again. The small room quickly filled with the acrid smell of vomit and the sound of splatter against the thick porcelain. Red brought up the cuff of his turtleneck to cover his nasal cavity. “yeh okay, Doll?”

You answered him with a dry heave, saliva dripping from your mouth and your eyes tearing up from trying to force out the contents of an empty stomach.

“what do I do?” He put a hand on your back, a touch of panic in his tone. “Doll, I dunno what’s wrong, tell me!”

“SHE’S POISONED, IDIOT.”

You turned your head slightly at Edge’s sharp tone and felt Red’s hand clench slightly against your back. Edge’s red eye lights were there in the doorway of your bathroom, and from their position you could guess he was leaning against the frame.

“huh?” Red stood up as Edge, uninvited, took a step into the bathroom and turned on the shower to wash away your sick. You looked up, cold and shaking from throwing up, confused at Edge’s presence. “how?”

“YOU TELL ME, YOU’RE THE EXPERT AT POISONING HUMANS,” Edge snapped, shoving his brother out of the way to pull you to your feet. You sank back to the floor, your stomach protesting against the movement, and clung to the side of the bathtub as the cold water splashed up onto your face.

“I didn’ do shit teh her!” Red growled defensively, angrily, the crimson lights in his sockets dimming as they began to vanish.

“PLAYING INNOCENT, JUST LIKE THE LAST TIME, IS IT?” Edge snarled, pushing Red back into the wall and standing over you. “GET OUT OF HERE, YOU’LL ONLY MAKE IT WORSE.”

“Edge, stop it,” you croaked, reaching out to find his pant leg in the dark and pull at it. “Red didn’t do this to me, leave him alone.”

“I didn’ do that, neither!” Red’s sneaker brushed against your leg as he stepped forward to get in Edge’s face. “I told yeh, I had no idea it would make her sick, she asked fer it!”

“YOU WERE JEALOUS!” Edge stepped forward and you pulled yourself close to the belly of the tub, out of the way of his boots. “YOU JUST CAN’T HANDLE IT WHEN YOU’RE NOT THE CENTER OF ATTENTION, SO YOU MADE HER SICK AND LEFT ME TO DEAL WITH IT!”

“yeh ungrateful bastard!” Red shouted, the light from his sockets vanishing completely. “I got yeh everythin’ yeh fuckin’ asked fer, an’ her too! it ain’t my fault she poisoned herself!”

“Guys!” you shouted, feeling the tickle of plasma and the smell of gasoline as Edge’s anger matched Red’s. You knew they weren’t arguing about you anymore. “Stop it!”

“LIAR!” Edge advanced on Red, ignoring you, and you pulled yourself up and out of the way before falling into the tub, the cold water shocking you awake as you yelped from the chill.

“as if yeh know a damned lie when yeh hear one!”

Pulling yourself up by the pipes, you turned the showerhead towards the noise and heard both of the brothers hiss in anger at the icy shower. “Nobody is poisoned,” you said cooly, straining your ears for their movement over the noise of the falling water, both from the shower and the pounding rain outside. “I drank too much, that’s all. Calm down. Please.”

A flicker of crimson relit itself in the dark as Red tried to listen. By its faint light you could see the angry scowl on Edge’s skull and his tightly clenched fists. Red’s sneakers squeaked on the tile as he moved in front of you protectively, his tone a low growl, “jus’ walk away, boss. yeh don’ wanna hurt her, do yeh?”

There was a long silence as you waited, shivering, in the shower for Edge to make up his mind. Slowly, his red lights came back to his sockets and you could hear the squelch of his boots as he turned on his heel.

“WATER AND FOOD,” he said to Red, his tone low and cutting through the dark. “SHE NEEDS THAT. EVEN IF YOU HAVE TO FORCE IT DOWN HER THROAT.”

You heard him storm away and the slam of his bedroom door. Red turned off the cold shower and slowly helped you out of the tub, his hands searching you in the dark for injury. He prodded a bruise forming on your elbows from falling into the tub and you winced, earning a quick withdrawal of touch from him.

“fuckin’ hell,” he growled, his lights glaring at the doorway. “stupid son of a bitch-”

“Red,” you said gently, finding his wet shoulder in the dark and giving it a squeeze. “Thank you. For getting me here and not blowing up at him.”

You couldn’t see Red’s face, but you could feel him stiffen beneath your fingers. “come on,” he grumbled, irritation still lacing his words, “let’s git yeh inteh somethin’ dry. yer as cold as ice.”

In silence, Red led you carefully up your narrow staircase and into your room. He left you, and a brief flash of lighting showed him digging through your pile of clothes. You wrapped your arms around yourself, shivering both from the chill and the anger still radiating off of him.

“Do you… want to talk about it?” you asked quietly as he roughly stuffed a wad of clothes into your hands.

“‘bout what?” he snapped. You recoiled from the sting in his words and reconsidered your question. He might have his temper under control, but it was still there simmering beneath the surface. The lights in his sockets turned away and you could see them reflected in the window; he was giving you privacy to change.

“You don’t have to,” you said softly, trying to make it clear you would drop the subject if he wasn’t ready. Red sighed heavily as you switched Mutt’s oversized sweatpants for regular ones.

“did yeh mean teh?” he asked quietly as you felt the shirt in your hands, trying to find the head hole, but finding soft fur and a hood insead. “teh poison yerself? Edge wasn’ lyin ‘bout yer condition.”

“I just drank too much,” you said, understanding that you held a strangely heavy hoodie in your hands and swapped it out for your damp, bile-smelling sweater. The fact that it went almost to your knees and smelled just a bit like smoke made you realize it was Red’s hoodie. The smell made you anxious, but knowing whose it was tempered your fear ever so slightly. “I actually feel a lot better now that I threw up. He… he was right. I just need water and something to eat and I’ll be fine.”

“th’ fuck were yeh thinkin’?” Red rounded on you and you quickly zipped up the hoodie to hide your bare skin. He stomped across the room, his finger in your face as he growled angrily, “drinkin’ shit that yeh knew would make yeh sick? th’ fuck’s wrong with yeh?”

“It’s not like I wanted to get sick!” You raised your hands defensively and took a step back. “I’m not used to alcohol anymore, Red, of course it was going to make me throw up! But I’ll be fine, we had fun for the most part last night, didn’t we?”

“but yeh knew!” Red snapped, stepping forward again. You took another step back, tripped, and fell onto the bed. “yeh knew it would hurt yeh, an’ yeh did it just cuz I wanted it? I ain’t worth that!”

“Red, I-”

“how am I supposed teh protect yeh when yeh act like a fuckin’ idiot?” Red growled, his hands coming up to grip his skull as he turned away. “I ain’t good at this shit, so how the hell am I supposed to keep yeh from hurtin’ yerself? dammit, Doll, I don’ know what I’m doin’ anymore!”

Another rumble of thunder sounded as you got up off the bed and searched for Red in the dark. “Yes, you are good at this,” you said softly, finding the wet fabric of his turtleneck and placing a palm on his back. “I remember last night. You took care of me. You took care of me now, and back when I was stressed and just needed someone to be around. You’ve protected me and helped me in your own way and,” you held up the sleeve of his hoodie for him to see, “you literally gave me the clothes off your back. You are good at this. Give yourself more credit.”

Red turned his skull, his eye lights softening at you before you went off into the dark, searching for your pile of clothes with your foot. He needed something dry, too.

“yeh really don’ care who I was, do yeh?” he asked softly, watching you as you found the pile and started to dig through it blindly for the thick material of your sweater.

“I…” you hesitated, your fingers rubbing against some sheer material you knew was a pair of stockings. “I do. I told you last night that it scares me to think about that, but you’re trying to change, aren’t you?”

“an’ I told yeh, I’m real shit at it,” Red grumbled, his voice moving away. You turned your head and saw his silhouette in the dark window, crimson plasma bubbling up in his hands as he created a bone summons. By it’s faint glow, you watched him try to wave away the smokey smell of his magic before returning to you.

He offered the crimson bone to you and you took it gratefully, using its light to find the sweater you were looking for and offered it to him. “Why did you never go back to it?” you asked slowly, watching him hold the sweater up and look to you in confusion. “To being a boss?”

Red said nothing. You stood, a pair of black stockings in your hand, and moved to the other side of your dresser to switch them with the sweatpants you wore. As you tossed those over to Red, he finally seemed to understand and you turned your back to give him privacy.

“cuz I fucked up,” Red growled quietly. Your eyes fell to the bone in your hand as it dimmed slightly from his emotion. “I was good at bein’ a boss. that kinda shit was all I ever knew an’ I was the best at it, but I was shit at everythin’ else. after I came up teh th’ surface an’ I could think without booze an’ DT cloudin’ up my mind, I realized that I was th’ one who fucked up Edge.” He added quietly, bitterly, “I shoulda jus’ kept my promise instead a’ thinkin’ I could change shit.”

“What were you trying to change?” you asked quietly, watching the summoned bone’s glow pulse with light.

“...everythin’ else.” Red’s hand touched your shoulder and you turned to see his soft, crimson lights inches from your face. You hadn’t heard him move at all. His hand came up and a sharp fingertip traced your jawline before it tilted your chin up.

“What did you promise?”

Red stopped halfway to your lips, sighed heavily, and rested his forehead against yours. You could see him struggle with himself by the agitated flicker of his eye lights before he finally pulled you into him. He nestled his skull in the crook of your neck, breathing deeply as his arms squeezed you tightly. You froze in confusion, not understanding if he was upset with himself or scared of what you’d think of him.

“teh protect him,” Red mumbled into your skin. You could feel him sag in your arms and brought your hands up to hold him. You rubbed the trail of bumps that was his spine beneath your sweater, feeling sympathy for Red.

“What happened?” you asked quietly to the side of his skull. 

He squeezed you tightly again and you barely heard the word, “everythin’.”

“Do you want to tell me?” you gently rubbed at his shoulder blades, hoping to give him comfort when he was so obviously asking for it. Red nodded slowly and you felt him mumble against you. “Do you want to sit down, Red?”

“in a sec,” Red came up to look at you again, his lights dim in the dark. “I jus’... want one thing from yeh, Doll. jus’ in case yeh can’t stand teh look at me after.”

“What do you mean?” you asked, intending the question towards his words. Instead, Red took that as an invitation and cupped the back of your head, pulling your face into his and into what must’ve been the most passionate kiss in your life. You could feel the need, the fear that this was the last one ever, and when you gasped he slipped his hot tongue into your mouth to chase away the bitterness lingering there with mesquite and vinegar.

You let out a small squeak of surprise as Red’s hand fell to your backside and he lifted you up, carrying you over to the bed where he flopped you onto the mattress. The kiss broke as he hovered over you, his breath coming in small, steaming pants and his crimson lights hazed as they looked you over. Red lingered, taking every bit of the sight in before he gave a small groan of want, straightened up, and turned away.

“wait here,” he mumbled before disappearing down the narrow stairs. You sat up, your heart pounding in your chest as you wondered what he was doing now.

You looked towards the dark, circular window at the sound of the rain. Anxiety mixed with the small amount of heat you had, creating this confusing mixture of thoughts in your brain. What had he done that he thought was so bad you couldn’t look at him again? Was he referring to selling humans or his mistakes with Edge? Or how he got his scars?

Were you making a mistake, being alone with him? It was obvious he wanted you, what if he said something so terrible you did reject him? How would he react?

A small crash downstairs turned your head. Seconds after the noise, Red was coming up the stairs again, his frame outlined by the glow of his summoned bone.

“What was-?”

“ain’t important,” Red waved the question away and stopped a few feet before you, a small wooden box in his hands. He wouldn’t look you in the eyes. “I… if I’m gonna do this, Doll,” he growled, his grip tightening on the box to the point you could hear the creak of the strained wood, “I’m only doin’ it once, but I’m doin’ it right. hear me?”

You nodded, watching as Red anxiously began to pace. His hand reached up towards his neck, like he wanted to pull at the fur there, but it dropped to fidget at the collar of your sweater while his lights glanced at the hoodie you wore.

“an’ yeh can’t tell no one,” Red said firmly, stopping in front of you to thrust the box into your hands.  _ “no one. _ get me?”

You nodded again and Red took a seat on the bed, on the far corner away from you. He buried his face in his hands and you could practically feel the anxiety radiating off him. You could actually see it in the pulses of light from his bone summons.

“Red, if you’re not ready,” you held the box in one hand, scooted across the bed, and laid the other on his shoulder, “then it’s okay. You don’t have to tell me everything all at once.”

“I want teh,” Red sighed and rested his elbows on his knees. “yeh don’ get it, Doll. I know my bros have talked teh yeh about their shit. they didn’ say nothin’, but I’ve seen it. they’re better after you. yer already workin’ yer magic on me an’ it feels good. I want that feelin’ yeh gave me with yer song teh come back.”

You tilted your head in confusion. “I don’t have magic, Red.”

“yeah, yeh do,” Red’s gaze fell to your chest. “I can sense it. we all can. even Edge is feelin’ it.”

Remembering what Axe and Butch told you, on one of your first days here about being a Kindness soul, you wondered if that was what Red meant. But you couldn’t use magic, you were human. “Let’s start with something easy,” you said slowly, trying to coax Red back to his goal. If he wanted you to help him talk, you would. Learning to be happy would start by bringing the bad stuff to light. “Tell me about something we’ve already discussed. Would you want to talk about your scars?”

Red’s hand fell to the hem of your sweater and he hesitated before shaking his skull.

“What about what’s in the box?”

Red shook his skull again, a scowl of impatience starting to form.

“Then, how about the beginning?” you asked, thinking hard on what you knew already about Red and the other brothers. Sans had mentioned that they all were dropped off in different Districts, or lived under different betas from their mom. “Where were you in life when you first met Edge? Living with your mom or her beta?”

The scowl slipped off of Red’s skull and he stared off into the distance. A bitter chuckle escaped him and he covered his face with his hand. “no. I ain’t never lived with ma. ‘n her beta…” Red sighed and looked up towards the ceiling. “yeh want th’ very beginnin’? alright, Doll, let’s start there.”

_ Here’s something you probably know. My bros and I are the last of our subspecies. There aren’t any other skeletons in the Underground besides us. Our ma knew this - why do you think she had so many of us? She was trying for a girl. _

_ Now, here’s something you might not know. For our species, only the females pass on their forms. My ma could breed with whoever she wanted and she’d get a skeleton every time. That’s why she never kept us. We were male. Since we couldn’t pass on our form, she tossed us aside. Every single one of us.  _

_ That’s how all of us knew we were brothers, despite growing up in different Districts. _

_ I don’t know how the others grew up, but I know how I did. How Edge did. I was left with my ma’s beta - a fuku. That’s a fire elemental, Doll. Some piece of shit dad he was. I know life in Fell City is rough, and it’s even more rough when you’re a kid, but he didn’t care for me neither. Sure, he kept me for a while, but when getting enough gold or food to care for both of us became too much he sold me. _

“yeah, yeh heard me,” Red mumbled bitterly at your astonished gasp. “bastard sold me on th’ black market fer as much gold as he could get. walked away wearin’ th’ only smile I’d ever seen on his fuckin’ face.”

“How… how old were you?” you asked, mumbling the words into your hands. You knew that Red had been involved in trafficking later in life, you never dreamed that he was a victim of it himself.

_ I dunno how old I was. I could barely walk. I couldn’t speak, but the buyers liked it that way. I couldn’t speak out against them. I couldn’t spill secrets. I couldn’t tell anyone else about what was happening to me. You ever wonder why I talk like this, Dollface? I had to teach myself. It wasn’t easy. _

_ I don’t remember much of my life with my dad, but I remember life with my boss. I remember that day I was dumped out of the crate onto that big, ornate rug. I remember looking up over that tall, dark, wooden desk at his fiery smirk and the glow of his purple fire against the dark red curtains. I remember the crackle and pop of his Font as he told me his name, Garamond, and I remember the fear when I tried to be polite, to greet him back with the garbled noise I could make, and the back of his hand sent me spinning to the floor. _

_ The object does not speak, he told me. I was his tool now - my purpose was to follow his orders to the damned letter and if I didn’t… Well, I wouldn’t like what happened if I didn’t. I was an object, he would chant to me as he used me how he liked. I had no opinion, no meaning other than to obey. _

Red paused, his skull turning towards you as you felt yourself fill with horror. “...’s that noise fer?” he asked you.

“I’m sorry,” you mumbled, not meaning to interrupt. You had been doing your best to stay quiet, to listen, but the noise in your soul betrayed you. “He… your boss, he didn’t… molest you, did he?”

“heh, couldn’t.” Red leaned back onto his elbow and waved a hand over his body. “I ain’t got nothin’ teh work with, Doll. an’ no male in their right mind’s gonna take a chance with these.” He pointed towards his sharp teeth, a slight smirk on his face from that one, small victory. Just as you started to breathe a sigh of relief, Red added, “but he tried. an’ I couldn’t see straight fer a week after I bit him.”

_ I was a dumb kid. I listened to him and his lies, always telling me I would be treated right if I obeyed. I learned how to do the things he wanted of me. I learned from his boys how to lie, cheat, steal, and intimidate. Because I could only listen before I could speak, I was the best at detecting lies. I learned to use that to manipulate those around me to protect myself when I made a mistake. I learned how to fight the other objects over food and sleeping spots, and I was so good at it that as I got bigger and stronger Garamond would send me out to collect what was owed to him. _

_ I learned real quick that as long as I looked out for just myself, everything in life was fine. But I wasn’t content with that. No, I wanted more. I wanted more food, a softer bed. I worked well, I got these things. I wanted to go out at night by myself. No matter what I did, I never got that. As I got older I started acting out against Garamond. I did what he wanted, why couldn’t I be free? I had thought about running away, but I didn’t know any other life. And I had seen him dust other kids who had tried and fear was enough to chain me. _

_ There were always punishments, growing up under Garamond’s heel. There was always pain for the smallest mistake, and the pain only got worse the bigger you fucked up. I was so desperate to get out, to be my own person and to be free, that I stopped listening. Punishments were almost daily and he only got more creative with them. Living that way, I got used to the torment. It didn’t bother me at all. They could crack my bones, shatter my skull, and shove forks in my sockets all they wanted. I burned with the desire to be free and they could never stamp that fire out. _

_ My first fuckup was letting a monster go that owed Garamond a lot of gold. A. Lot. Of. Gold. My boss was pissed beyond belief. So Garamond got even more creative. _

At this point, Red paused again and your hands gripped the box in your hands tightly. The rain pounded against the window in the silence and you could hear the creaking of the trees in the wind.

“‘n that’s… how I got these.” Red gestured to his ribcage. Slowly, you watched as Red pulled off your sweater to show you the bones beneath. They were cracked and had pieces missing from them; you could see the spiderweb patterns from where something blunt had hit him in multiple places. Everything glittered. It was hard to tell in the crimson glow, but it looked like…

“Silver?” you asked, looking up towards his gold fang for comparison. Red nodded.

_ I don’t know what happens to us exactly, but my kind is weak to certain metals. Especially rare ones. They fuse with our bodies and react weirdly to our magic. Attached gold deadens sensation till you can’t feel anything but silver… silver enhances it. I had gotten used to his punishments enough to shrug them off, so he made them worse. He had a weapon special made for me, one coated with silver, and each time it struck a piece of the metal would fuse to my body and stop me from breaking completely during punishment or healing fully later on. But each time it happened, the blows felt worse and worse until I begged him to stop. _

_ It worked how he wanted. I obeyed again. For awhile. But, like a dumbass, I started to rebel again. I had gotten used to it once, I told myself, so I could do it again. I thought about running away again, but how was I supposed to survive? I was an object and, now that I had silver on me, no one would see me as anything else. Silver is only used to brand and to punish in the cruelest way. Not even the Queens would use it. They use gold to brand the criminals. _

_ My third biggest fuckup in life was tipping off the Guard to a big shipment of merchandise. Other kids, like me, meant to be objects. I tipped off the Guard to what was happening and set the kids free. I pointed the way towards Waterfall and out of Hotland. I figured I could take Garamond down by destroying his business. I thought I got away with that one. I kept myself out of corners but one of the kids was stupid enough to get caught. They pointed me out, to save their own scaly hide, and I got the ever living shit beaten out of me. _

_ I had enough. I fought back. I dusted everyone around me and acted like I was Feral. But I was strong, too strong from all the LOVE I had, to be dusted myself. I should’ve known something was up after that happened and days, weeks, passed without Garamond summoning me back to his office. I wanted to believe he finally respected me. That I was finally allowed to do what I wanted to do, when I wanted to do it. So when he did finally invite me back, to sit with him at that desk and have a glass of malt vinegar, I did so with a smug ass grin on my skull. I drank so much I passed out, happy that I was finally respected. _

Red stared at the floor, refusing to look at you, but he gestured towards the box in your hands. You looked at it and slowly, nervously, opened the coarse, wooden lid. What was inside made you shove the box away. It, and it’s contents, rolled across the floor and your eyes couldn’t look away from the black, leather collar with gold spikes.

“Red, what the hell is that for?” you asked, shuffling back onto the bed until your back was pressed against the headboard.

“fer me.” Red said simply, leaning down to pick up the collar. He brought it up, slowly turning it in his hands as he examined the dust still sprinkled across the black. You just barely noticed the glow of plasma at the corners of his sockets before he wiped it away.

_ I woke up with it around my neck. Garamond stood over me, grinning as I tried to tug it off. With a wave of his hand the room filled with his sulfur-smelling magic. With that same wave, I felt pain like I never had before. It coursed through every bone, every connection in my body and into my very soul. It was a submission collar, Doll. He must’ve wanted me awful bad to have one made cuz they’re worth ten times my weight in gold. I had let myself get too good at what I did in my attempts to please him, to make him happy enough to get me what I wanted. I had shown him I was too strong to be thrown away, and I knew too much. Teaching myself to speak had been a mistake. _

_ With that collar, I became a more obedient object. I did what he wanted but I always, always tried to test him and his patience to see if I could grab at any freedom I could. Years passed as we struggled with each other. I thought I could get used to it, too, just like I had before with his punishments. The silver didn’t affect me as much, now, not since I had the pain of the collar to compare it to. _

_ But I obeyed. That was what was important to him. Now that I submitted, he polished and shined me to be the best tool on his belt. He taught me tricks and secrets to the business that I didn’t know. My soul was wrapped around his finger, he had almost no fear left. _

_ Almost. I still rebelled. I still fought. He was always watching, waiting, to find something he could use against me to get me to bow my skull completely. _

_ My second biggest mistake was giving that to him. _

_ The day I met Edge was just like the day I met Garamond, except this time I was standing next to the desk when they brought the crate in. I watched, horror in my soul, as I saw them dump out the skeleton kid onto the ornate rug. My boss was excited; I had so much power, so much skill, that it had been worth the gold to find another like me. _

_ Through his greed, I found out I had a brother that day and I saw my life so far flash before my mind, knowing that this kid was going to walk down that same dusty road. _

_ I stepped between Edge and Garamond, asking him to sell the kid to me instead. My boss laughed, asking what gold I had to pay with? I had nothing. I couldn’t even offer my services since I was owned myself. _

_ So I got onto my knees. I bowed my head and offered him my complete, unwavering obedience if he would give the kid to me. Edge watched, too young to understand what was happening, as Garamond accepted my offer, but still slapped a collar around Edge’s little neck. He said it was insurance. To make sure I kept up my end of the deal. If I wanted him, I could have him, but he made it clear the kid would pay for any of my mistakes. _

_ Like an idiot, I believed him. I just had to make sure I was perfect. I became the object of envy to all the others. I never messed up, I always brought my boss back more than he was expecting. I learned all the tricks and secrets of the trade and I became the best. I could pull information from a rock, I could run a business with the twist of a knife. I could instill the kind of fear into someone just from my presence that no one was late with their payments anymore. _

_ At night, in our room, I would tell stories to Edge about what I did. Not to scare him, but to give him tips that would help him avoid mistakes. Things that could keep him alive and avoid pain. He loved those stories. He called me ‘boss’ and wanted to be just like me when he grew up. I told him to never call me that, because I wasn’t his boss. I was his brother. But if he liked it, I would call him that. He did like it. It made him feel bigger than the scary, purple fire monster that would make him hurt sometimes. I told him that would never happen, because I promised to protect him. He just had to be good and listen to me. _

_ That small mention of our boss should’ve been my first clue. But I ain’t too smart, at least when it comes to shit I don’t wanna hear, so I figured he meant he messed up and got punished. A backhand to the face wouldn’t hurt that bad. He’d learn to follow orders and I’d protect him against the worst of it. From dirty jobs and LOVE and silver. _

_ More years passed and Edge was almost as tall as me. _

_ He stopped liking the nickname ‘boss’. He wouldn’t try to curl up next to me for comfort anymore and he told me to shut up when I tried to tell him stories. He called me a liar when I reminded him I was protecting him. _

_ I didn’t know why he was withdrawing. I thought it was something I did. Maybe I had been too crude, or maybe he just didn’t believe me anymore when I said I could protect him. _

_ It was the latter. I walked into the office one day, back early from a job and eager to take more orders, when I saw Garamond using the collar against Edge. I exploded, raging at him for breaking a promise. That was my kid, how dare he?! I didn’t break any rules! I did exactly what he wanted and more! _

_ Boss laughed and said he was teaching Edge obedience. That he learned from his mistake of lenience with me and he was training Edge to be even better than I was. Stronger, smarter, more submissive. And I would allow it, because he was my master and I was just an object. I would train Edge myself to shrug off pain and to know all the tricks I knew. That was an order. _

“I… don’ know what happened after that,” Red held his skull in one hand as you sat very still against the headboard. You had no idea what happened to Red, but you weren’t expecting this, and now that he had finally started it seemed like he couldn’t stop. “I remember this look Edge gave me, like he hated me, an’ I jus’... snapped.”

_ When I came out of it, the room was covered in dust and plasma was dripping from my hands. The collar tingled around my neck, sending weak jolts into my body as the magic faded. No one in that room was left alive except for me and Edge. From their whispers at my back I learned they were Garamond’s boys, the ones who were too cowardly to come and fight me when I attacked their boss. I had dusted Garamond and the half dozen others who had come to his defense. _

_ I looked down at Edge, to see if I had hurt him, and saw only hate in his sockets. Hate and pain as the last of the magic in his collar drained away, too, leaving him shaking on the floor as brown plasma leaked from his sockets. _

_ I know I hurt him. I know that our boss tried to subdue me, and through me, Edge, by using the collars. I knew it didn’t hurt me as much as it did him. But I also knew that we were finally free.  _

_ The boys at the door asked what they were supposed to do now, boss? I didn’t understand what they meant, at first, but then it slowly came back to me as my rage settled. I had killed the boss, so now I was the boss. _

_ And any monster who didn’t like it was free to come after me to take my place. _

“an’ that’s how I became a boss,” Red said, rubbing at his socket before turning his skull to the other corner of the bed. His lights widened as he turned further and found you near the headboard. “...yeh okay, Doll?”

You had your knees pulled up to your chest and you felt clammy, like you were going to be sick again. When you had compared Red to a mobster to understand what being a boss meant, you didn’t think it had more horror to it than that. Child slavery and torture, it was hard to believe people who could do those things really existed. It was like something out of a Hollywood horror.

Not wanting to answer untruthfully, you looked up at Red and asked, “...are you?”

“kinda, yeah?” Red crawled up onto the bed and sat within arms reach of you. He sat cross legged, his hands holding his bony feet, and looked unsure of himself. “I ain’t had no one teh tell this shit to, before. I haven’ even told Edge about the stuff he didn’ live through himself. but yeh don’ sound so good,” he added, his lights flickering towards your chest. “do I… scare yeh?”

“N-no,” you mumbled and hugged your knees tightly. “But what you’ve been through… holy shit, Red. How did you keep going? You were just a kid and- and torture is enought to break anyone!”

“heh, not this dumbass,” Red pointed a thumb at himself and gave you a small smirk, grateful to hear your fear wasn’t towards him. “‘m too stubborn. ‘n there’s a reason my magic is fire, Doll. yeh can’t stamp it out once it’s blazin’. I fed it on dreams ‘n desire an’… an’ look how I ended up,” he finished sadly.

“So, what happened with you and Edge after you became a boss?” you asked, unsure if you wanted the story to continue, but try to be strong regardless. This was Red’s chance to get all of it out, to feel better after holding it in so long. All you had to do was listen.

A dreamy look came over Red’s skull. “th’ best years of my life,” he mumbled.

_ I had it all. Gold, power, and the freedom to do what I wanted. My boys would ask me what tune if I told them to sing, and women flocked to me in droves. My life during those years was the biggest it ever was, but choosing to keep the title of boss was the biggest mistake of my life. I should’ve taken Edge and run to another District. _

_ The day I became boss I picked the collars off Edge’s and my necks. I destroyed his, hoping he was still young enough he might forget it all. I kept mine to never forget where I came from. _

_ I used my new gold and my connections to buy a small, unassuming apartment on the border of the city. I put Edge up there, to keep him away from it all, because I knew if there were others out to get me then they would go after him to use me. Just like my old boss did. I wanted to protect him from all that. I’d come home every night to make sure he was okay. He seemed to be better, even if he wouldn’t talk much to me. He didn’t seem to trust me so much anymore, but he did seem to forget what happened to him. He never talked about it, at least. _

_ Being a boss was something I was made for. Things never went more smoothly after I took charge. I rearranged my boys to jobs they were suited for. I took out cameras to keep the Guard off our ass. Profit flowed in and I could buy everything Edge asked for while he stayed hidden. The whole city was under my thumb and I was drunk on the power. _

_ I got cocky. I thought I could change the city to how I wanted it to be. How I thought it should be for people like Edge and me. For all the objects. _

_ I started small. I got rid of the jobs I didn’t like. Moving kids disgusted me, so I destroyed that part of the trade. My boys weren’t happy with the loss of gold, but I put them in their place. Sometimes violently. Then I hunted down collar crafters and had their arms removed to serve as a warning. I found out about women being sold like they were objects so I had brothels burned down. If they wanted to live that life, they shouldn’t do it because their boss says so. _

_ I made a lot of enemies doing those things. Not only were my boys unhappy, they didn’t have gold and whores, but the providers for these ‘goods’ and ‘services’ were pissed off, too. But I wasn’t going to let that shit happen anymore. Anyone who worked for me, and disagreed, got dusted. I had to make everyone fear me deep in their souls so I could make the change I wanted. _

_ Things started to slowly unravel. Guys would leave or spill secrets and I’d spend weeks cleaning up the mess. I’d uncover nests of this shit still happening and it pissed me off to no end thinking I couldn’t stamp it out. Every time I thought I had the last trader dusted, or the last brothel burned, two more would pop up, shadier than the last. _

_ I was in a real bad mood the day I caught one of my boys with new ‘merchandise’. I had his throat in my hands, ready to squeeze the life out of him, when I saw what he was selling. I saw an opportunity. If I couldn’t make the trade go away, I’d just make something else the main focus. _

_ Without being told, I recognized what was at my feet. It was a human.  _

Your hands gripped your legs tightly to the point it hurt. Red stopped, his lights focused on you, and he slowly reached out to touch you.

“Doll…”

“Just,” you pulled away, anger simmering in your soul. So if he couldn’t stop his fellow monsters from being sold, he thought humans were a better idea? “Don’t.”

“listen, I didn’t-” Red tried to place a hand on your knee and you batted it away. It was admirable that he tried to abolish trafficking in the Underground, but it hurt that he used your kind as an alternative. No wonder Mutt was reluctant to tell you what he knew about it, if Red had just switched the price tag onto humans instead. Red took his hand back, his lights flickering, and quietly growled, “it ain’t like that, Doll.”

“Then what was it like?” you snapped. “I know you sold humans, it’s why you were banished! How could you say so much to show you’re against trafficking and then do it yourself?”

“will ya just let me finish?” Red snapped back, quickly irritated by your tone.

_ He looked like shit; the Perseverance soul at my feet. His eyes were dead and he was so thin I could see the shapes of bones. One of the others spoke up and stopped me from dusting the one I held. They weren’t breaking no rules, my boys insisted. I didn’t want them selling other monsters, so they found something else. _

_ Still, looking at the human and hearing the mournful croaks of frogs coming from his soul, the sound of defeated acceptance, I knew they weren’t much different from us. I hated that human for that, for making me pity something I didn’t know anything about. My boys, seeing me still as I looked the human over, launched into an explanation of how easy it was to catch it. How defenseless it was without magic. How profitable it could be, selling one to a monster with gold and hatred for their kind. _

_ It was no better than selling a kid. A human wouldn’t stand a chance against a monster, not with how fragile your kind is. It would not be a pleasant death if I sold them off. _

_ I didn’t know what to do. I know humans trapped us beneath the mountain, I know I should hate them, but I couldn’t. Not looking into the eyes of one as they silently begged me for help. Not when I had by boys growing mutinous as I hesitated. _

_ I needed time, I told them. Time to find a good buyer. It eased them, thinking I would allow it. I let them keep the human so I could think without him staring at me. _

_ Now you see my problem, Doll. Back then, I had no obligations to your kind, only the knowledge that humans hated us and trapped us. I hated myself for what I was considering, because it didn’t seem right to sell a life, but the trade would never go away no matter what I did. I thought so long on it that the human died with us. Just… fell asleep and never woke up. I don’t know why and we were baffled that he didn’t turn to dust. _

_ But that gave me an idea. I knew who our buyer would be. I didn’t tell my boys the whole plan, but I sent them out to search for more fallen humans on the promise they’d have more gold from this one job than all the others from moving vinegar, DT, or music. _

_ The next one was a Bravery soul. She looked almost as bad as the first one, with her skin taunt around her bones, but I had already contacted the buyer and he was eager. Despite the excited air my boys gave off, I was pissed. There was a bruise on her face. How the hell was I supposed to get full price for damaged goods? _

_ I sent the idiot responsible for the mark to be punished. Not too harshly, she spit in his face after all, but the others and I made our way to the Palace to meet Alphys, guarded by a pair of the Guard dogs. Asgore wouldn’t meet us himself for the trade. _

“The King!?” You yelped, recognizing the name from Sans’ story. He was supposed to be a good and kind King, why would he buy humans?

“yup,” Red nodded, smiling shyly and grateful you weren’t so cold in your moment of shock. 

_ He was the perfect buyer. The guy was loaded. He’s fucking royalty, after all. And even though I didn’t like your kind at the time, it sat better with me knowing I was selling them to a guy who would treat them right. It’s no secret in the Underground that Asgore and Toriel adopted a human child. How could a guy who would do that be a terrible master for a human? _

_ The trade went beautifully. Better than I could’ve ever hoped for. We made more gold that day than we did in half a year and Asgore wanted more. With a promise to do just that, it was easy to convince my boys to forget about selling kids or women. Humans were worth more than their weight in gold. _

“so I didn’ treat ‘em bad,” Red pressed, trying to convince you as you shied away from his touch again. “I didn’ like humans, but I ain’t soulless. I found ‘em a good home.”

“But why would King Asgore want humans?” you thought out loud. “Wasn’t Toriel in hiding while she grieved? Did he think he could draw her out by adopting more?”

“fuck if I know.” Red shrugged. “point is, he’s a good guy. even I have respect fer him an’ I hate the royal family. he always looked out for us, his people, ‘n he was never cruel in his judgement. th’ Underground loved him.”

Your brow furrowed in thought. Something didn’t sit right. It was true that you heard Asgore was kind, but you knew from the experiment gone wrong that he was willing to make sacrifices if deemed necessary.

Realization hit you like a ton of bricks. Sans said that he and Wings manufactured faux souls to power the machine. Alphys couldn’t replicate that process, but souls were still needed to try and break the barrier. Then along came Red, offering the King the very thing he needed. Human souls.

“Doll?” Red scooted closer, his bony brow furrowed in concern as you paled. Asgore had used that machine to extract their souls.

You looked up, searching Red’s face as he reached out, hesitated, then pulled his hand back. He couldn’t have known, you thought to yourself. There was no way Red could’ve known he was sending those humans to their deaths.

“Where-” you said quietly, fumbling for a topic to keep the conversation away from your thoughts, “where was Edge in all this?”

Red looked away shamefully. “th’ apartment,” he mumbled.

_ Even with our new deal on humans, I still had all the years of cleanup to do from trying to rid the city of trafficking. I was busy. A lot. I didn’t have much time for Edge anymore. My daily visits in the beginning dwindled to biweekly. Then weekly as I had more messes to fix up. Then once or twice a month, if I was lucky. _

_ Still, I made sure he never wanted for anything. When I did see him, I got him anything he asked for. He just didn’t ask for much except to leave. I couldn’t allow that. I had only made more enemies since we were freed and it was too hard to explain to him why. He only remembered me as a boss and I didn’t want to bring up where we came from. I didn’t want to remind him of that pain. _

“I knew he was lonely,” Red shrugged, his rough voice quiet as he avoided your eyes. “‘n that brings us teh th’ thing I ain’t supposed teh talk about.”

“Her?” you asked, just as quietly. Red nodded.

“don’ say shit, Doll.” He said gruffly, pointing a warning finger at you. “I mean it. whatever I say here, yeh don’ know nothin’ about. I’ll teach yeh how teh lie properly if it keeps yer mouth shut.”

“Then why tell me?” you pulled your knees in, the joints creaking from being held so tightly for so long. “If Edge doesn’t want you to say-”

“cuz he ain’t never gonna tell yeh,” Red snapped. “she was th’ love of his life an’ it killed him when she left! fer fuck’s sake, don’ you know just by dealin’ with him that he hates showin’ weakness? nothin’ made him that way ‘cept her, an’ I know that now cuz I feel th’ same way about you!”

You stilled as Red’s entire skull flushed crimson. He quickly turned away and you sat in silence together, listening to the rumble of thunder over the house. The crimson glow from his summons was flashing rapidly, as if mimicking a panicked heartbeat.

“I’d… like more lessons from you. On how to speak Font,” you said quietly, reaching out to touch his shoulder. Red jumped at the contact and his skull turned to meet your gaze. “But you can leave out the lying part. Don’t you hate liars?”

“yeah,” Red nodded, staring at your hand. “‘s why I got him an Honesty soul. cute thing, too. wavy blonde hair an’ these big blue eyes. I wanted teh give him someone he could trust ‘n I thought, ‘what safer bet than Honesty?’”

“Don’t tell me about her,” you said firmly, squeezing his shoulder. “That should be Edge’s choice. It’s his story to tell.”

“yeh don’ wanna know nothin’?” Red turned, his brow raised in disbelief.

“I do,” you admitted. “I really do, but not this way. If Edge is going to trust me, I want it to be on his terms. He’s already come a long way since I first met him. At least he’s not trying to kill me anymore.”

Red chuckled and his hand came up to find yours. “fair point, Doll.” He gave your fingers a small squeeze. “but yer gonna have teh hear a bit about her if this is gonna make sense. when she left is how it all fell apart.”

_ The day I brought home Honesty was the first time Edge talked to me in a long time. Most of it was screaming and insults. He thought I was trying to buy his affection by giving him a pet, but it didn’t last long. All she did was look at him with those big blue eyes and his words died in his mouth. He flushed dark brown and didn’t have any more to say. _

_ I told you before that I wasn’t home much. At this point, it didn’t matter if I came home at all. When I did, Edge would hide in his room with her, keeping her away from me, and I barely saw her. His requests changed, too. He didn’t ask for things for himself anymore. I could tell because he only asked for human things. She wanted clothes, movies, food from the surface to remind her of home. One of my boys found all these things at the Dump and didn’t ask why I wanted them. He figured I kept the human for myself and knew better than to say anything or start rumors about me. _

“The Dump?” you crinkled your nose up at the thought, imagining a landfill stinking of garbage and methane with seagulls flying overhead.

“no shit, where else were we gonna find that stuff?” Red held up a hand and then let it fall. “District Two’s got th’ only Dump in th’ Underground, n’ th’ water brings stuff down from th’ surface. yeh can find all kinds of things if yer willin’ teh dig through garbage.”

“But… food?” you asked, disbelief in your voice, before a small thought occurred to you. “Red, how long did she live with you?”

“couple years,” Red shrugged. “I dunno. time’s funny down there when yeh ain’t got a sun teh measure by.”

“I think you saved her life,” you said quietly, thinking back. At Red’s questioning look you explained, “Monster food doesn’t have nutrients in it. If I ate nothing but that, I would eventually starve on a full stomach. If you were bringing her food that came from the surface, you kept her from starving.”

“really?” Red asked, frowning in disbelief.

“Yes!” you slapped his arm in rapid succession with the back of your hand. “That explains what Edge meant earlier! You didn’t poison her, Red, but you accidentally gave her contaminated food from the Dump, which gave her food poisoning!”

“so… I did poison her.”

“Not on purpose!” You pressed. “That makes all the difference, Red! How were you supposed to know? You didn’t even know you were keeping her alive, but you did that!”

“not on purpose,” Red growled darkly. “If I had known what she would do teh him, I’d never have brought her back.”

_ I already kind of told you about this. I don’t know much about what happened between them, and what I do know you asked me not to tell. But you already know that I came back one day and she was gone. He was furious, his magic black, and he had those twin scars over his socket. He was never the same. I knew he had been hurt again, worse than what Garamond did to us because this was something he couldn’t forget just by being young. It was worse because he already hurt from a past he couldn’t, or wouldn’t, remember. _

_ I didn’t know what to do. I thought he would tire himself out after a few tantrums, but his new magic exploded out of him and was destructive. I had to be home more, to try and contain him, and that made my work as boss suffer. Everything I had tried to get rid of started to slowly come back and I was frustrated and angry at him, too. _

_ He only got worse. That black magic would destroy everything around him if he got upset, and he was upset a lot. I knew I had to choose. My brother, or being a boss. The whole reason I was a boss was to change the Underground for us. I chose my brother. _

_ I put one of my boys in charge, saying I needed a holiday, and tried to fix what I could with Edge. It didn’t go well. Everything I tried failed. Talking to him, yelling at him, bribing him, hitting him. Nothing worked and we constantly fought each other. I told you before, Doll, I ain’t good at comforting people. No one ever showed me how. _

_ There was one fit he had that destroyed half the block we lived on. Countless monsters turned to dust, buildings reduced to volcanic rubble. He even pissed off the mountain and it let us know by giving us an earthquake, showering more destruction on the city by feeding off his magic. He nearly killed me, too. _

_ At that point I knew I couldn’t do anything. He was too much for me. He was far more powerful than I had ever imagined and my magic wasn’t nearly enough to contain him. So I handed him over to my enemy. The Guard. They had specialists there, I knew, that dealt with abnormal magic and they could teach him control. I promised them the only thing I had if they would take him in and fix him for me. My position as boss. But I couldn’t say that, they’d kill me on sight and I’d never know if Edge was okay after I handed him off, so I promised the crime would fall. _

_ I kept my word. I told my boys to stop the rest of the jobs we had and focus solely on our deal with Asgore. I wasn’t going to piss off the King. _

_ It worked well, for a while. My boys were rolling in gold so they didn’t ask questions when I stopped showing up as much. They laughed it off and said I was just on holiday.  _

_ I wasn’t on a damn holiday. I was worried about Edge. I had given him away. I should’ve been there from the beginning but I lied to myself by thinking I could change our world. The only brother, the only family I knew, I had abandoned because it was too hard to look after him now. I was the worst piece of shit in the world. I couldn’t keep the only promise I ever made. _

_ Trying to comfort myself, because I was all that I had left, I took the malt vinegar from my old boss’ desk and had a tall glass. It worked, I felt better. Better than I did in the arms of a skirt who only wanted me for my power. Better than when I crushed the skull of an enemy in my hands. _

_ You know how you were on the floor, Dollface? Riding the high one minute and then feeling the low the next? I was like that. All the time. Except I didn’t cry like you, sweetheart. I got mean. That anger I have was made worse when I got really drunk and I caused a lot of fights. I’d wake up covered in dust now and then. I used to drink so much at Grillby’s that the big orange fuku himself let me sleep in his flat from time to time. He was a good friend, if I could call him that. He dealt with a lot of my drunk ramblings and tried to keep me quiet when I got talkative. I paid off my tab by throwing out the lowlifes he sent me after. Things were okay, for a bit. I didn’t have to think too much, just follow orders. I followed orders, Grillby fed my thirst for vinegar and let me sleep on his couch. Win win.  _

_ I can’t remember too well how life was, after that. For a long time I just bar hopped, ignoring my duties as boss and not giving a damn what happened anymore. All that was left was that memory of the first glass and the comfort it gave me and I chased that feeling with every bottle I downed. At some point I got into DT, the same shit my boys pushed on desperate souls, and for the first, glorious high I felt like the world was right again. Don’t make that mistake, Doll. It’s never as good as the first no matter what the cravings tell you. _

“What’s… DT?” you asked, recognizing it from earlier points in Red’s story.

“Determination.” Red grunted. He sat away from you now, his legs hanging over the side of the bed as he stared out the window. “not th’ real shit, that only comes from a human soul, but th’ lab made stuff.”

“Do you eat it?” you asked, not liking the look Red was giving you over his shoulder. It was a disgusted look, a shameful one, that made you draw back slightly.

“nah, yeh inject it.” he answered quietly, looking away again. “makes yeh feel like… like yer floatin’. like yeh just got off an’ woke up from th’ best nap at th’ same time. yeh laugh until yer ribs hurt an’ when it fades… yeh feel emptier than before.”

You stared as Red’s skull hung in shame, your hand coming up to cover your mouth. A small twist in your heart came with the understanding that he had gotten into hard drugs, too.

“that’s how Edge found me so many years later.” Red mumbled, his gravelly tone sounding slightly choked. “in a den, a needle in my joint, tryin’ teh kill myself by chasin’ that feelin’. fuck,” he brought up his hands and pulled at the sides of his skull. “I… I wanted teh die. I’m a worthless fuckup who can’t do nothin’ unless he’s told what teh do. I’ve never done anythin’ right on my own in my life. not protectin’ Edge, not stampin’ out that shit that chained us, fuckin’ nothin’!”

You rolled onto your knees, the joints aching in protest, and fell onto Red’s bare back. You squeezed him tightly in your arms, your eyes burning and your heart hurting to hear him say that.

“You’re not worthless,” you said quietly, feeling hot tears roll down your cheeks even as you tried to stop yourself from sobbing. “You’re not. You’re incredibly strong to live through all that and still come out of it wanting to help others. You changed every life you saved by keeping them from getting sold!” You felt Red’s hand come up to grip your forearm and you said quickly past the lump in your throat, “So what if you’re not perfect? No one is! You did the best with what you had, and you have every right to be angry after what that asshole did to you!”

“so... what do I do now?” Red asked you, his tone unsure and lost. “I’ve spent all this time on th’ surface tryin’ teh figure it out. Edge doesn’t want me around. I can’ go back to th’ Underground without everyone tryin’ teh dust me… th’ fuck is the point of me?”

“Whatever you decide to do,” you said, turning his shoulders so he faced you. Red quickly reached up and wiped the small droplets of crimson plasma from the corners of his sockets. “You’re completely free up here, Red. You can be anything and I’ll help you do it, but you have to promise me one thing, and this is a really big promise.”

“‘s that?” he asked, avoiding your eyes until you turned his skull to face you.

“If you ever,” you said firmly, tears streaming down your face, “ _ ever _ feel that low again, you won’t hurt yourself like that. I want you to come talk to me instead. I love you too much to stand the thought of you trying to end it.”

Crimson plasma welled up in his sockets before Red pulled you into a bone crushing hug. “promise,” he mumbled into your ear. You sobbed loudly and his hands finally came up to gently hold your shaking shoulders. “no ones… ever cried fer me before.”

“It’s about time someone did!” you sniffed loudly, burying your face into his neck. This was kind of hard to do, there wasn’t much there with just his neck vertebrae, but you tried despite this. “I’m sorry,” you breathed, guilt welling up in your chest.

“fer what?” You felt him turn his skull to listen, but he didn’t pull away.

“I… I doubted you,” you admitted, ashamed, but feeling like you needed to tell him that you were wrong. Red sat back and his lights searched your pink face. “When I first heard about you being a boss and why you were banished I was scared. I didn’t understand why you were trying to be close to me. I’m sorry.”

“if yeh were scared a me,” Red said slowly, his brow furrowing with confusion, “why’d yeh let yerself be alone with me?”

“I wanted to trust you.” You sniffed again and wiped at your face with your sleeve before remembering it was Red’s hoodie. You stopped before you got snot all over it. “I care about you and I’ve only known who you are while living here. The Red I know you as and the one I heard about just didn’t seem like the same person. I wanted to know your side and why you did it.”

“I don’t blame yeh,” Red shrugged, his voice growly again as he pulled on your sweater. “I don’ trust me, neither. not with important shit, anyway.”

“I’m sorry,” you said again, your face warm as Red wiped the last of the tears away with his knuckle.

“eh, don’ be.” Red pulled his hand away, hesitated, then looked over at the floor where the collar lay. “I… admit I thought about it. usin’ yeh teh get back in th’ business. but I couldn’t. yeh ain’t Honesty, but I ain’t never met a human who was such a terrible liar. yer too good fer Asgore an’... I thought yeh might do what she couldn’t even after all this time. ‘cept this time around I don’ wanna share yeh much with Edge.”

“Is… is that why you kept the collar, even after all that? To get back into it?” you asked, glancing nervously at the golden spikes along the strip of black leather. It couldn’t have any sentimental value except to remind him of the pain. Even in the dark, you were close enough to feel the heat on Red’s skull as he flushed and you turned towards him, confused. 

“n-no, I, uh-” he stammered. You tilted your head, curious, and saw from the glow of his summoned bone that Red’s skull was completely crimson. Your guess was wrong. You raised an eyebrow, remembering how he flushed when Edge had offered to buy you a collar, or when you asked what he was doing with the headphones.

“You have a kink?” You tilted your head as, somehow, Red’s color got deeper. “I don’t understand, wouldn’t you hate collars after what happened with you?”

“i-it ain’t like that!” Red growled and turned away, covering his face with one hand to hide himself. “it’s different!”

“Is it a shock thing?” you eyed the collar again, remembering what Red said about the sensation and his resilience to pain.

“n-no!”

“I’m not going to shame you for it, Red, I just want to understand.”

“it’s a disobedience, thing, kay?” Red snapped. Clearly flustered and wanting the topic to go away, he quickly explained, “it ain’t about th’ collar, it’s about who’s in it! this thing’s been dead fer years, ever since I killed Garamond, but I ain’t th’ first teh get one. they make ‘em fer troublemakers, fer rebels, fer people who spit on their masters an’ fight fang n’ claw to be free! ‘s why I-I wanted teh give it teh yeh.” he finished quietly. “yer th’ only one I’ve met who fights back. who has fear a somethin’ n’ doesn’ give in anyway.”

You looked up from the collar, blinking in surprise. That was the thing he wanted to give you, back when you listened to music together? His collar? It must have been a way for him to show you he believed in you, now that you understood the significance of it, without having to use words. And, you thought, your mouth settling into a flat line as you looked over his color again, he would’ve liked to see you in it. Really liked it, judging by how deep the color was.

“Well, I forgive you, for thinking about selling me,” you said, appreciating that he had been honest despite the fear you would reject him for the thought. You also deeply appreciated that he didn’t act on it. Standing up to him in the beginning had been hard, but it had won you enough respect to save you from a different timeline. “And,” you added, seeing him peek through his fingers, “I have something for you too, if you’ll trade me.”

“I ain’t got nuthin’ ‘cept what yeh got me.” Red’s color slowly started to fade and he lowered his hand, his eye lights flickering curiously at you.

“You always said you don’t get something for nothing,” you smirked, trying to tease him to get him to smile, and it worked. Kind of. There was a small grin tugging at the corners of his sharp teeth.

“this mean… yeh want me teh stick around?” Red asked, his grin widening as you nodded. “so, that wasn’t th’ last one, then?”

Your cheeks flushed pink, remembering this kiss he gave you before all this, and Red’s grin broke out into a smirk. “‘s matter, Dollface?” Red tilted your chin up, his lights softening as he held your gaze. “yer smartass always has somethin’ teh say. did I steal yer breath away?”

You snorted with laughter at the pun, unintentional or not. A criminal, stealing your breath away. “Holy shit you know jokes!” you wheezed. “Wait until I tell Sans!”

“yeh ain’t gonna say shit!” Red growled and pushed you back onto the bed to roll around, giggling, as he huffed and crossed his arms.

“What’s wrong, Red? Cat burglar got your tongue?” 

Red groaned loudly in irritation. He rolled his skull back, his crimson lights focusing on you, and smirked again. “oh, I’ll get yer tongue alright!”

You squeaked in surprise as Red pounced on you, pinning your hands to your chest as he came in out of nowhere to catch your lips. Despite his supposed hatred of jokes, you could feel him smiling against you through the kiss. After he had gotten you thoroughly hot and drunk of the taste of mesquite, he pulled away.

“I don’ deserve yeh,” he growled softly, his hazed lights looking over your face. “I want yeh, Doll, but yer too good fer someone like me.”

“What if I want you despite what you think?” you asked quietly. Red’s lights widened slightly, as much as they could in their current state. “You’re a lot better person than you think you are, Red.”

“then yer fuckin’ nuts,” Red sighed and laid his skull next to your face. “no woman in their right mind wants an object.”

“I don’t see an object,” you said, turning your head to look at him. “I see a person. A cranky, irritable, sailor-mouthed son of a bitch, but a good person nonetheless.”

“th’ fuck are yeh, anyway?” Red rolled onto his back and you followed him, gently laying yourself across his chest while trying to be mindful of the silver. “yeh can’ be human. I ain’t never wanted teh bare my soul like that teh someone before. ‘n yer crazy enough teh stay, knowin’ what I did teh yer kind. why th’ hell are yeh lettin’ me touch yeh, ‘n hold yeh? how can yeh stand me kissin’ yeh, after what I did?”

“You said it yourself,” you said, softly running your hand over his ribs and earning a shudder in response. Pain, it seemed, he could handle. Gentleness he couldn’t. “You tried to give them a good home where you thought they’d be taken care of. I know I’m naive sometimes, Red, but I’m not so naive to believe that there’s no evil in the world. You tried so hard to make it less for your own kind, I’m just glad to hear you didn’t take it out on mine.”

“‘n what I did as a boss?” Red lifted his skull to look at you. “I wasn’t exactly sweet teh my own people, neither.”

“Again, you said it yourself. It was the only way you knew.” You sighed and rested your cheek against the soft fabric of your sweater. “I can’t blame you for not doing something you didn’t know how to do. The point is, you still tried to make things better in some way. Trying to do something despite having no idea how to do it is worth a lot more than not trying at all.”

“so... is it still a yet, then?” Red asked slowly his fingertips drifting idly over the small of your back. The tickling sensation felt good and you closed your eyes, humming with contentment at his attempt to be so gentle.

“Is what a yet?”

“yer... mark.”

Your eyes flew back open and you glanced up, catching Red’s lights as he stared expectantly at you. “I don’t know,” you said slowly. Red’s hand froze on your back. “I know I’d like it, but I have to get the other’s approval, too.”

“eh?”

“The other betas, your brothers. Some of them, anyway. There’s only four of us total so far.”

“yer th’ alpha, why th’ fuck ‘er yeh askin’ permission?” Red sat up and you slid into his lap. “alphas do what they want, Doll. they don’t ask if they can, they demand what they want.”

“I don’t work like that!” You huffed, crossing your arms as you rolled over to look up at the bottom of his jaw. “I respect the opinions of my betas, and if you want to be one of them, you’ll have to convince the others that you’re a good fit! I don’t demand anything of my pack, Red. All that I ask is that you try to get along, don’t brag, and communicate when you want something. It’s easy.”

“I ain’ doin’ this again, Doll.” Red said flatly. “I’ll talk teh yeh, but no one else.”

“I’m not asking that,” you sighed. “You don’t have to spill your non-existent guts again, but you can show the others that you fit. We work together, Red. Can you do that?”

“teh be honest, just watchin’ Mutt fall all over yeh last night made me want teh break somethin’.” Red growled irritably at the memory and you felt him bristle beneath you.

“You have to learn to share,” you gently poked his cheekbone and he nipped playfully at your fingers, albeit a little rougher than necessary. “I’m telling you now that I’m still figuring this alpha thing out. It’s hard trying to balance the three I have, but I’m not perfect. I’ll need help if we add you, too. Not to mention there might be others.”

“who all yeh got?” Red asked, bending so he could look you in the eye. You marveled for a moment at his flexibility. Not having skin or muscle must really help that. “th’ slut already showed off, so who else? I know one of ‘em ain’t Edge. he likes yeh, but not that much. Butch, right? ‘n vanilla, maybe?”

“When I mark you, you can meet them.” you rolled your eyes, remembering Milord’s wish to remain secret to anyone outside the pack. Your guts chilled slightly at the thought of asking Milord about Red’s mark. What if it started another fight between you? You couldn’t bear the thought of both him and Axe avoiding you. Milord had warned you in the first place about Red. He might not be happy to hear you had confronted Red about it.

“when?” Red asked, smirking at the word and missing that shiver of anxiety that raced through you.

“Red,” you reached up and held his skull in your hands, gently running a thumb along the ridge of his jawbone. “I trust you. You opened up to me and helped me understand you better than I ever dreamed I would. You have it in you to show your brothers you deserve that trust, too. I won’t tell you who the rest of the pack is, but if you show everyone what you shown me since I’ve known you, I have no doubt they’ll say yes.”

“then what did yeh wanna give me?” Red asked, quirking his brow at you as you gently pushed him back onto the bed so you could curl up at his side. “‘n what did yeh want in return? I told yeh, I ain’t got nothin’ ‘cept what yeh gave me.” He turned his skull, pressing his sharp teeth to your forehead as a kiss. His breath was hot on your face as he added, “an’ I told yeh last night, Doll. yeh heard everythin’ an’ yeh wanted teh stay, so I’ll follow yeh anywhere.”

“Well, I wanted that to be a surprise.” you mumbled, turning pink as you remembered how long you had that gift for. So much happened, mainly your scare about Red himself, that you just never got around to it. But with all this new information about him you knew it was time. With a glance over Red’s chest, you saw the slightly grey sky through the curtain of rain still falling. “Why don’t we head back to bed before it gets too bright? We both need sleep.”

Red sighed heavily and caught you as you tried to rise, pulling you back into him. He gave an irritated growl, “whaddya want from me, Doll? jus’ answer th’ fuckin’ question.”

“Your collar,” you huffed, watching his brow rise along with a crimson color along his nasal ridge. “If I’m being honest, I think you’ve been holding onto that part of your past for too long. I’ll trade it to you for something I think might help your future.”

“I’ll give yeh somethin’ right now, if yeh want it,” Red growled in your ear, nipping at your lobe. “an’ I think it’ll make yeh real happy.”

“We need to go to bed!” You tried to rise up again, but he pulled you back down and nipped at your neck.

“we’re already in a bed, Doll,” Red purred.

“Red, please?” You asked sweetly, trying to give him your best shot at puppy eyes. “I’m tired, it’s gotta be almost six in the morning. I want you to sleep next to me, but I don’t want the others to think I left them, either.”

He growled irritably, but moved his hands so you could get up. Just as you were balancing up on your knees, he reached around and swiftly smacked your ass. You gasped in surprise, your face burning as he smirked up at you.

“jus’ so yeh know, Doll,” he chuckled as you scrambled onto the floor, trying to hide your blushing face. “first chance I get, I’m gonna fuck yer smartass stupid.”

You froze, brick red as Red let out a gravelly laugh and stood up beside you. He ushered you away to a safe distance, then banished the glowing, crimson bone left behind with a wave of his hand.

“ah, don’ look so surprised,” he teased, trailing after you as you lead the way out of your room. “I ain’t got yer mark, but I’m gonna act like it teh show th’ others I belong, too. an’ if I’m actin’ like it, I’ll follow yer rules an’ tell yeh exactly what I want. get me?”

“Try to behave,” you sighed, feeling the sleepless night already weighing at your eyes.

“make me,” Red smirked, challenging you as you descended the wide, oak steps. You paused, turned on the steps, and glared at him. The excited shiver it sent down his spine was clearly visible.

“I’m not going to make you,” you smiled, watching the flicker of disappointment in his lights. “But I will get back at you in other ways, if you don’t follow the no bragging rule.”

“like what?” Red dragged out the words, filling them with a disbelieving sarcasm that made you roll your eyes.

“As in Sans isn’t the only one who knows how to pull pranks around here.” You smirked, hearing him pause on the stairs as you calmly continued your descent.

“don’ yeh fuckin’ dare,” Red growled. You held your hand on the last part of the railing, turning your smirk towards him.

“Make me,” you teased, hurrying into the safety of the living room before he had a chance to say anything.


	29. Ch 27 - Dates and Flowers

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Holy shit, this beast is finally done! :D I'm super excited about certain things in this chapter, they were a long time coming and there's so much lovely setup for events to come. I did consider breaking it up into two chapters, but... well there aren't any good stopping points that make for a decent size either way. So, enjoy.
> 
> For all you lovelies that leave comments, thank you so much for the love and support! All the kudos and bookmarks, too, they really show me that there are people who love this crazy ass story I'm telling so, from the bottom of my black soul, thank you. <3

Ch 27 - Dates and Flowers

A loud yawn escaped you as you leaned against the refrigerator door, feeling the last of it’s chill air touch your face. You rubbed your bleary eyes and stared at its dark shelves, squinting as you tried to use the grey daylight from the window behind you to find the milk.

You couldn’t have slept for more than an hour or so after you and Red returned to the makeshift bed in the living room. He was still there, sleeping next to his brothers, but your internal clock wouldn’t let you sleep past the early morning despite the fatigue dragging at your limbs. Taking the sweating milk from the top shelf, you returned to the dark marble counter where your attempt to make a pair of iced au laits sat. Without power the stove would not light, and thus you were forced to improvise.

The honey wouldn’t dissolve in the cold, instant coffee you had made. You frowned, knowing it would be too bitter for Milord’s taste, so you tried to doctor the mistake with some candied lavender from your baking supplies. You had tested all of this in your au lait and the candied lavender had dissolved well, so you repeated this with Milord’s cup, plus an extra spoonful of sugar, just to be safe.

You heard his clipped steps across the wooden floor of the hall and took his mug in hand, ready to greet his morning with a tired smile. He stopped beneath the arch, his purple lights wide as he stared at you with mugs in hand, before they narrowed in anger. 

“What the  _ jevil _ are you wearing, woman?” He hissed icily, gesturing at your clothes. You looked down at Red’s hoodie and your black stockings, your cheeks turning pink as your sleep-deprived mind realised your mistake.

“I… got sick last night,” you mumbled sheepishly, offering Milord his cold coffee. “I threw up on my sweater, so Red let me borrow this.”

Milord quickly stepped forward and into your space. You could hear the sharp intake of air moving in and out of his nasal cavity as he smelled you. No doubt, you knew, he was looking for the scent of a mark or a claim.

“Are you still sick?” he asked coolly, taking the mug you offered and sipping it experimentally. You worried that he’d hate it, he didn’t like cold coffee, but let out a small sigh of relief as he took another sip. Despite not fooling around with Red, you weren’t sure if the small bit of affection you did share had marked you. Judging by Milord’s return to his usual grumpy demeanor, it had not.

“No,” you shrugged. From his question, you guessed that you had stopped smelling like poison, too. Maybe the cold shower had washed the smell away? You gestured towards the loaf of bread next to a soft stick of butter with a used butter knife lying on the marble. It was your cold breakfast that you had while making the au laits. “I’m fine now that I’ve eaten something. I want to sleep a bit more, but since I’m up I thought I could get some work done in the yard. I know it’s your morning off, but the storm blew branches all over the place.”

“A fine endeavor,” Milord nodded his approval, watching as you started to gather plates left on the table from yesterday’s dinner. “Do humans usually recover from illness so rapidly?”

“Um, not usually,” you said vaguely. You were grateful that he hadn’t pressed you for details as to exactly you ended up in Red’s hoodie, even though you were dancing around the subject. You knew he wouldn’t approve of you drinking or allowing yourself to end up alone with Red. While you knew you would have to have a conversation about it eventually, if you were to ever end up marking Red, you needed more time to process what you had learned before you brought Red up to any of your betas. “If I hadn’t thrown up I’d probably still be sick. But I’ll be fine, Milord. Don’t worry about it.”

“How do your kind fall ill, exactly?” Milord asked curiously, taking a seat at the table to watch you scurry back and forth to the sink, carrying plates. His lights were narrowed at you and you wondered if this was because he wasn’t allowed to clean yet. You knew this was the last morning of his and Sans’ deal, but you were tempted to ask Milord to break it to help you. You felt exhausted. “I recall you stating that stress was a factor in your mother’s health. Are you attempting to do too much?”

“No, it’s not that,” you took a large swig of your au lait, grimacing at the bitterness. All of the honey had settled at the bottom. Turning towards Milord, you leaned against the marble counter and swirled the mug in your hand. He didn’t know you had gotten a migraine, either. “People, humans, can get sick for any number of reasons. Bad diet, lack of sleep, stress. They can get too cold, or too warm, or eat something they shouldn’t that can poison us. Sometimes our bodies just act weird and that makes us sick. We can catch bugs like the cold or flu. I’ve heard of people getting parasites. They can get sick from lack of water, or by drinking stuff that’s too salty or polluted. Animal bites can give us infections, or if they’re venomous...” You pinched the bridge of your nose, trying to think. “That’s… everything off the top of my head, but I know there’s more.”

You looked up and the startled look on Milord’s skull caught you a little off guard. “How… are your species still prevailing?” He asked slowly, his brow furrowing as he thought. “Your physical resilience is laughable, how have your kind not succumbed simply by existing?”

“Medicine,” you shrugged. “Doctors dedicate their whole lives to keeping people healthy. Hundreds of years ago, people died from things that are fixed easily today.”

“Do you have literature regarding the subject?”

You nearly choked on your now too sweet coffee. “Ohhh no,” you held up a hand to stop his train of thought. “You’ve got too much on your plate as it is, Milord. You don’t need to try to become a doctor on top of it.”

His lights flickered once, twice, then he threw back his skull and filled the kitchen with his crystal bell-like laughter. “I have no such aspiration,” he said, the laughter quickly fading as he grinned at you. “I inquire simply because one of us should have a rudimentary understanding of your biology in case you get sick. Unless these doctors of yours are plentiful, or willing to visit the mountain, then this short study could prove useful in caring for you.”

You turned pink at the thought he wanted to use his time off that way. It was sweet of him, to want to be prepared. The more you thought about it, your color deepened. You couldn’t afford to go to a doctor if you got sick. He was right, if you got really ill, the brothers would have to care for you and none of them would know how. 

“I have a physiology book,” you set your empty mug into the sink, turning on the water to see if it would warm. It hadn’t earlier, when you made the instant coffee, but it was worth a shot. “It’s on my dresser. It’s not exactly a medical book in that it doesn’t talk about medicine, but it should cover a lot of the basics of human biology.”

The sink turned itself off, the ghost of lavender plasma drifting about the steel handle. You looked curiously back at Milord as he rose from his chair, the wooden legs squeaking across the tile, and crossed the kitchen to hand you his mug. “Do not bother with that now, Zeta. As you must have noticed, we have no power, and our house relies heavily on electricity to provide us with creature comforts. Cleaning with cold water is highly unsanitary. The chore will have to wait until Papyrus rises for the day and fixes the breakers.”

“I’m, um, surprised you haven’t woken him up yourself.” You turned the mug in your hands, feeling slightly uneasy with the way Milord was staring you down with unwavering lights. “You like hot showers, don’t you? And Mutt’s computer needs power.”

“Papyrus needs his wits about him when handling electricity. Water temperature is a preference, not a requirement. In fact, I find it reminiscent of my early days of training for the Guard. Regarding Mutt’s system,” he reached out and turned your chin towards him with a gentle pressure from his knuckle, “I have no doubt the imbecile drank himself into a stupor last night. There is precious little he can do until he has slept the vinegar off.”

“Please don’t be mad at him,” you said quietly, shivering both from the ice in his tone and the chill settling into the house from lack of central heat. “He was upset everything was offline. He needed the distraction.”

“I have no doubt. So, perhaps you can explain,” Milord’s thumb drifted over your jawline, sending another shiver down your spine, “how it came to be that Red was the one who ended up supposedly caring for you during your illness, and dressing you in his attire, not Mutt? I had anticipated he would refuse to leave your side all night. He certainly would not have allowed Red to mark you in his presence, nor would Sans, if previous experience is anything to go by.”

A sinking feeling settled in your gut as he caught your gaze with a disapproving glare. Red had managed to mark you and, judging by the hardness of Milord’s lights, he was not happy about it.

“I have provided you several opportunities to explain the situation of your own volition, Zeta,” he said coolly, his breath chilling your face as he leaned in close. “But I tire of your avoidance of the subject and grow impatient. Do not test my limits.”

“They were asleep,” you said quickly, backing into the counter to distance yourself from his angry scowl. “We all drank a bit too much last night. Red was the only one who woke up to take me to the bathroom and-”

“You  _ drank?” _ Milord hissed and you could see the ice crystals form in the air from his subdued fury. “You absolute pillock! How could you be so completely asinine as to allow yourself to dull your wits and become vulnerable in his presence? Did my warning mean nothing to you? Or do you have such a complete disregard for your own safety that you  _ meant _ to hand him an opportunity to take advantage of you?”

“It wasn’t like that! He took care of me-”

“Imbecile!” Milord snapped, plasma spilling out from his hands and filling the surrounding air with a lavender fog. You flinched away, terror sinking its cold hands into your heart. He wasn’t just angry, he was  _ absolutely furious. _ He had never been this angry with you before.

Milord paused, his barely lit lights searching you as you quivered. He took a deliberate step back from you and ran a hand over the side of his skull, a low growl of anger escaping him. “Do you realize what could have happened if he chose to abduct you during your lapse in judgement? He could have taken you anywhere! Mutt’s system is online thanks to his backups, but it would be useless to us now without any sort of access! Red evaded my capture for decades, Zeta, how the hell would I find you if he chose to spirit you away?”

“If he wanted to make me disappear, he would’ve done it when I first moved in,” you said softly, your voice shaking as you echoed Mutt’s words to you. “If he really wanted that, he would’ve known to do it when none of you cared about me or would look for me. But he’s not like that. He’s not a boss anymore.”

“That is irrelevant! He does not need to regain his former title to sell you!” Milord grabbed your shoulders and shook them, causing you to flinch away again. “There is always another boss, always another low life to replace the last, and I have told you before that I cannot protect you from everything! You must use your best judgement to survive! Why do you think I insist on keeping my mark a secret? It is because every single criminal in the Underground is my enemy and they are not the only ones who would use you! If Red knew your value to me, my affection-”

“He wouldn’t use that against you,” you said coolly, anger slowly replacing your initial fear. “I’m not stupid, I know you two don’t like each other, but he wouldn’t hurt me just to get back at you.”

“ _ We don’t know that for sure. _ ” Milord pressed, a hit of pleading in his voice as his purple lights flickered at you. “Our feud against one other runs very deep and to claim that we tolerate one another is straining the definition of the word. I cannot afford to rely on a guess. His actions have suggested that he’s no longer tempted by the life he left behind, but if there is even a single, minute chance that he hasn’t-”

“Do you trust me?” you asked, your lips pressed into a thin line. You knew he was this angry because he cared, but he hadn’t seen what you had. You knew the grudge Milord still held wouldn’t let himself accept the change Red was trying to make. He didn’t know Red’s side of things, and though you couldn’t defend all of Red’s actions, you knew he wasn’t lying about any of it.

“Of course I trust you. It’s  _ him _ I cannot-!”

“I’m not asking you to trust him. I’m asking you to trust me,” you huffed, folding your arms over your chest. “I know way more about him than you think I do. Do you really think I’d defend him, after everything he’s done, if I didn’t see something you didn’t? Do you think I’d forgive him and trust him after selling humans if I didn’t think there was a really,  _ really _ good reason why?”

“You are the type to trust where others would not. If he’s manipulating you-”

“I’d like to think I’d know if I’m being manipulated,” you growled. “He’s not a psychopath, Milord. He’s a terrible liar and if he did twist his words, then what he’s said wouldn’t hold up against the things I already know. If you really do trust me, then you’ll give him a chance to prove that he’s not that person anymore!”

“Why is it,” Milord growled back at you, pulling at his temples with his palms, “that you never ask for anything, but when you do, it is always the most difficult thing to give you?”

“Because I only ask if it’s really important,” you mumbled, watching Milord silently struggle inside his own skull. He began to pace back and forth, trailing the smell of frost as he went. You slowly eased off of the counter and wrapped your arms around yourself, your fingers pulling at the strangely heavy fabric of Red’s hoodie.

After a long while, Milord heaved a heavy sigh and turned back towards you. “You do realize that I am terrified for you? That if I allow this, this chance you ask for, and it transforms into a mistake…” he said quietly, his lights flickering as he caught your gaze, “I’m rarely wrong, Zeta. But on the sparse occasion that I am, the results are far more disastrous.”

“Then good thing it wouldn’t be your mistake,” you said gently, hesitating as you closed the distance and slowly, cautiously, took him in your arms. “It would be mine. I make mistakes all the time, Milord. I doubt they’ve ever been as big as yours.”

Milord sighed again, but he held you back and buried his face in the crook of your neck. “I will have stipulations to this, if I allow it.”

“Of course you will,” you giggled, unable to help yourself as you felt a rush of relief. Now, more than ever, you were thankful that Milord had always been reasonable. “What did you have in mind?”

“Firstly, this,” Milord licked at your neck and you shivered from the icy touch of his glowing, lavender tongue. “This mark he left… I will forgive you for this transgression, but I never want to detect it again. He may pursue you, since that seems to be your desire as well, but until I see for myself this change you promise I will not approve of a mark. Am I clear?”

“Do you mean his, or mine?” you asked slowly, catching the haze in his lights moments before he bit you, harder than necessary, at your soft spot. You whimpered and he turned your face towards his, to drown the sound with a slip of his cool tongue and the taste of menthol.

“Both,” he breathed, his air chilling the skin on your face. He pressed into you until you backpedaled into the counter and caught your wrists in his hands. Milord smirked as your eyes widened with surprise. He moved your wrists into one hand, gently cupped your cheek, and pulled you into another kiss, the minty chill of him sending shivers down your spine. “I warned you once,” he said, barely breaking the contact and leaving a hair’s breadth between you, “that my kind is sensitive to scent. How do you think it is for me, to see you as you are now - in my adversary’s attire, wearing his mark? I may have incredible restraint and superior intellect, but I am still just a male and you are  _ mine. _ ”

You squeaked in surprise as Milord lifted your leg up over his hip, caught your mouth again, and ground his pelvis against yours. He must be insanely jealous to let his self control slip like this. He was still wearing his uniform and you knew he didn’t like your scent all over it.

“I am sorely tempted,” he murmured, his hand slipping up the inside of your thigh, the soft leather of his glove barely touching the confused want you were starting to feel, “to take you here, now. To saturate this hoodie with our scent as a challenge to him. But you would not like such a vindictive act, would you?”

You shook your head and Milord hummed, taking his hand from between your legs to let it rest on your hip.

“Secondly,” he said, returning to his stipulations as he nipped at your neck, “in regard to this chance you request... You have a vast well of patience, my dear, but I do not. If his actions bring harm to you, mentally or physically, on purpose or by accident,” he tilted his skull to whisper a low hiss in your ear, “I will have his head removed from his shoulders so fast, he will have time to watch his body turn to dust before his skull hits the ground.”

A cold chill raced down your spine that had nothing to do with his magic. It may have been quiet, he may have been acting intimate with you in the moment, but you knew he was very serious about that threat. It wasn’t even a threat, at that point. It was a promise.

You felt a few, short breaths on your neck as he smelled you again, checking if his mark had sufficiently covered Red’s. It must have been enough, because Milord drew away from you with a satisfied smirk. He clasped his arms behind his back in a military-like fashion, most likely to keep his hands off you, and nodded at your leather jacket on the counter. “If you wish to get a start on your grounds keeping duties, I would recommend taking this opportunity before I lose what restraint I have left.”

You took the jacket and held it to your chest protectively, biting your lip as you debated with yourself. “You have to let him make mistakes,” you said quietly, trying to make this fair for Red. “He’s not perfect. You can’t expect him to be flawless.”

“I stand by my expectations.” Milord said coolly, the haze in his lights starting to sharpen. “And if,  _ if _ he ever meets them, then I will shake his hand and admit I was wrong.”

~~~

The grounds were grey, hazing mist from the drizzling rain. Fog parted around your ankles as you searched the ground for more sticks and branches. You wiped at the cold water clinging to your forehead and glanced back at the house. Maybe this was one of the reasons Milord didn’t try to keep you. The water would wash away his scent. Maybe he wanted the first hot shower after the power came back.

You pulled the white fur-lined hood further over your brow and sighed heavily. The armful of budding branches you had was dropped onto the pile by the shed you were making and you looked out into the woods. The fog and grey rain filled the forest with this creepy vibe, like you were being watched. You ignored that feeling, you always seemed to have it by these woods, and leaned your head back to taste the misty drops as they fell. The taste kind of reminded you of Sans and that warm, affectionate thought helped you keep going.

The longer you were out here, the more your right arm became soaked through the tear in your leather jacket. Red’s hoodie, strangely heavy as it was, was not water-proof and the rain only made it heavier. On top of that, the wind chilled your arm and the old metal bolt in your mended bone ached from the cold.

Another armful of sticks joined the pile. You turned around to tackle a large branch, almost twice your height in length and as thick as your thigh at its broken base. You huffed, your breath steaming in the air, and tried to figure out if you should just drag it to the shed, or try to find a saw in the shed to cut it up. A shiver tore through you with a new gust of wind and you became distracted by dreams of a hot bath.

Your boots squelched in the mud as you headed back towards the shed and inside it. The dust made you sneeze and spiderwebs clung to the white fur lining around your face. It was cold inside, but it was dry, and you were thankful for the moment of reprieve.

“Sorry, spider-friend,” you mumbled, picking a big one off your sleeve by its legs and setting it on the small, dusty window sill of the shed. Spiders didn’t bother you much, but you would run screaming if a beetle scuttled at you. “I didn’t mean to break your web.”

The tools inside were ancient. Okay, maybe not ancient, you admitted to yourself as you dug through a wooden crate, but they were old. The previous owners of the house, the ones before the brothers who ran the National Park, must’ve not liked caring for their yard, either. There wasn’t even a lawn mower. Just a dated, rusty, push-powered grass clipper in the back corner.

All of the hand tools were in disrepair or covered in rusty dust. The hack saw you managed to find had several teeth missing. You let out a groan and looked around the shed. How were you supposed to do your job without tools? It couldn’t be helped, you thought to yourself as you pulled at your face. (though you immediately regretted the cold mud you streaked on your cheeks) You would have to ask Sans if he would give you a little extra this paycheck to buy supplies. There was no way you could afford everything on your budget, especially if you had a car to save up for. But if it was to do your job, it wasn’t a selfish request, right?

You returned to the giant branch and started breaking off all the small, budding twigs you could find to add to your pile. The wind howled again, pushing its way through the tear in your jacket to chill the sleeve over the metal bolt in your arm. With a small curse, you rubbed at the spot to try and coax warmth to it and decided that Milord wouldn’t have the first hot shower - you would.

An aggravated growl escaped you as you stomped on the thinner part of the branch, breaking it in half. As you dragged everything back towards your pile, you glared up at the house. Did he have to be so possessive? All you wanted was for him to give Red a chance. Did Milord really hate him so much? He had no idea everything Red had been through, and you knew none of it was a lie. You couldn’t fake those scars. Those tears he had tried to hide were real. His and Edge’s distrust and suspicion of anything kind made so much sense now that you knew about Garamond and his punishments. Their old boss was only nice when he wanted something. No wonder Red felt like he always had to trade for everything.

And Milord would never know that side of Red, you thought, sitting on the fattest part of the branch, wondering how to move the rest. You had promised Red you wouldn’t tell anyone else about his past. Milord had been angry and possessive because he was scared for you, because he cared for you, and you could never explain why he should trust you. You were lucky he agreed to give even a single chance.

Your numb fingertips came up to gently pull at the white fur tickling your face. Having Red and Milord get along would probably be the hardest thing you’d ever do at Lane 66. Getting the brothers to trust you and open up to you was easy compared to the thought of getting them to do the same with one another. And you thought Edge was difficult. Milord had been right; to say he and Red tolerated each other strained the definition of the word. At least Edge still wanted to protect his brothers beneath his prickly personality. Red and Milord had history - they hated each other. How could they not after so many years as enemies? Boss versus Captain. Criminal versus Guard.

An ache settled in your heart as you remembered the few times they interacted with each other. There was always provocation. One of them would start insulting the other and then they would fight. They had only ever stopped because of a threat from Sans or because of intervention from you.

You stood up, determined, and grabbed the branch in your hands. It was deceptively heavy, for being so long and no thicker than your thigh, but you slowly dragged it towards the shed with the idea that one of the brothers could help you break it up later. Red had a battle axe for a weapon, didn’t he? That would be useful. Or maybe Pap could just step on it.

“ _ -falling star, felL from your arms and landed in my eYes.” _

You stilled, halfway to the shed, and looked up into the trees. The hairs on the back of your neck were standing up from the eerie song floating out from deep inside the woods.

“ _ I sCreAmed aloud, as it tOrE throuGh them, and now has lEfT mE bLiNd.” _

The song echoed, like it was coming through a bad radio channel or a warped record player. It was familiar, but it had your heart pounding in your chest. Didn’t you sing it once, as you walked up the mountain? Or did you dream that?

_ “the stars, the mOon, theY hAvE aLl bEeN bLOwN UP” _

You dropped the branch and squinted out into the woods. There was a figure standing in the shadows of the trees, their outline blurred by the mist. It was tall and black and you would’ve mistaken it for a tree if the song hadn’t been coming from that direction.

“Edge?” You tilted your head, unable to think of anyone else that fit that description. Had he actually gone out to work last night? Did something happen on the job or on his way home in the storm? You took a few steps towards the treeline, straining your eyes to make out the slim figure. “Is that you? Why are you so late coming home? Are you hurt?”

“ _ yOu’Ve leFT mE iN tHE dARk _ ”

It wasn’t Edge, but it was someone you knew, alright. You could feel it in your gut. They needed you. You had to get to them, and so you pulled your boots free of the clinging mud of the yard and walked into the trees. They weren’t far. You wouldn’t get lost, not with this gentle tug you felt on your soul. All you had to do was just walk a little bit.

“ _ NO dAWn, nO dAy, i’M alWaYs iN tHiS twILIgHt” _

Just a little further. You could still see them, standing just out of reach in the mist. Just a little further.

**_“iN tHE shADoW oF yOUr hEaRT”_ **

A loud screech filled your ears. Black wings battered your head and claws scratched at your eyes. You screamed and threw your arms up as a shield from the attacking raven. You tried to back away, stumbled, and fell over a gnarled tree root into the cold, hard mud. The raven circled you, cawing in indignity, as another sat waiting on a bare tree branch near a nest, hissing loudly. You scrambled to your feet, your boots slipping on the slick forest debris, before finding the smallest purchase to launch yourself away.

The raven left you alone after you had run far enough, but now you didn’t know where you were. You turned in a circle, your heart pounding in your ears, at the unfamiliar, misty woods you were surrounded by. You couldn’t have walked that far. You had only taken a few steps beyond the treeline, you couldn’t be lost.

“What’s wrong, little human? Afraid of a few birds?”

You whirled around at the high-pitched voice. You couldn’t see anyone, but your hand still fell into the pocket of your jacket to grab your pepper spray. You held it out defensively, ready to attack should anything come at you.

“Or maybe you’re afraid of trees? I don’t blame you, they hear everything.”

You turned again, looking for the source of the voice, and swallowed hard past the terrified lump in your throat. You had no idea what was going on, or where home was. Who the hell was talking to you, or did you hit your head and had started hearing things?

“Ugh, down here,” the voice said, much closer this time, and you looked around once more before glancing towards your feet. A small, yellow flower with a face grinned mischievously up at you. You screamed in surprise and backpedaled, tripped over your own feet, and landed hard on the ground. Your pepper spray leapt from your grip and rolled away among the damp, dead leaves. The earth parted next to your ear and the yellow flower popped out of it, flashing its fangs at you as it grinned. “Howdy!”

“Y-you’re a monster!” you said bluntly, your panicked mind desperately reaching for anything that made sense.

“Congratulations, you can speak! And here I thought you were a mute.”

“W-what are you doing here?” you asked, sitting up out of the mud and pulling clumps of dead leaves from your hair. “Do you… live here?”

“None of your business, nosey.” The flower stuck its tongue out at you, vanished into the ground, and resprouted several feet away. “But you should feel grateful. I’m here to help you.”

“H-help me?”

“You’re lost?” The flower asked sarcastically and rolled it’s little black eyes, like pieces of onyx, at you. “I’ve seen you before. You live at that big brick house with those skeletons. This is a pretty far spot from that place and you don’t go out much except to go to school. You’ll need my help if you don’t want to die here. Or is that what you want? I’ve never seen you look so determined, walking out here by yourself. Or were you lost in a daydream?”

Your brows furrowed as you remembered bits and pieces of what happened. Dropping the branch, seeing the figure in the fog, that feeling like you had to go to it. It was just like that night with the cake. You had heard a song then, too, and it was only Pap’s voice that had stopped you from wandering off into the trees. This time, you looked over your shoulder for signs of the figure, it had been a raven who stopped you from wandering.

“Can you… why would you help me?” you asked the flower, not entirely sure if it had something to do with why you wandered off. If this monster had the power to hypnotize you with a song, it didn’t matter if it was small or looked like a cute little buttercup. It was dangerous.

“Nosey, aren’t you? I guess I could call you that, if you’re going to be so rude and not thank me for offering to help. You didn’t even ask me my name when you’re perfectly capable of speech!” The flower wrinkled its nose at you and gave you a severely disapproving look. “You really are rude, aren’t you? Maybe I should just leave you here, Rude.”

“Sorry,” you mumbled, trying to get mud out of the white fur lining around your face without pulling any of the fur itself out. “What’s your name? Mine’s-”

“Rude, I know.” The flower huffed, it’s tiny little leaf resting where it’s hip could be. “I’m Flowey. Flowey the flower.”

“It’s, um, nice to meet you, Flowey.” You nodded your head, using the motion as an excuse to look around in the trees for cameras. If Flowey had been here long enough to watch you go to school, or know that you lived at Lane 66, did that mean Mutt’s cameras hadn’t caught him? What if he was the thing Axe was always out searching for? Then again, you looked down at Flowey, assessing him, if Mutt and Axe had  _ let _ Flowey remain… “Are you… friends with the brothers?”

“Hardly,” Flowey waved his leaves and danced back and forth to entertain himself. “But we have this… mutual understanding. They let me look for my toy; I leave them alone.”

“Your toy?”

“Yup.” Flowey grew a little taller, his buttercup head becoming the size of a saucer and his petals tickled your knee. “I lost my favorite toy a long time ago, and now I’m all out of fun. I miss it. I know it’s here, somewhere. I can smell it. Especially around this time of year.”

“Maybe I could help you?” You offered, your brain whirring as you tried to think of a way to make yourself useful and keep Flowey from hypnotizing you again. “Axe is good at finding things, I could ask him to help-”

“Not on your life!” Flowey growled deeply, his high pitched tone vanishing with a sudden rush of anger. You took a step back in fright and Flowey focused on the movement. He shrank back down to a tiny size and started to dance again as though that moment didn’t happen. His voice had returned to a high pitch as he said, “One of those skeletons used to bully me a lot. I don’t trust them all as a rule.”

“So… then why would you help me?” you asked again, watching as Flowey vanished into the dirt and reappeared even further away. You took a step forward, getting close enough just so you could make out the features on his grinning face.

“This mutual understanding of ours,” Flowey teased, repeating his vanishing act to lead you down a trail. “See, they like you an awful lot. If you disappeared, they’d look for you, and that one in particular is so mean to me. As you can see, I’m very delicate. Rough handling isn’t something I try to invite.”

You nodded, thinking of Edge. He didn’t like anybody, bullied his own brothers, and he wasn’t known to be gentle. No wonder Flowey tried to stay away from him. “But the others would be grateful to you, if I told them you brought me home. They could help you find your toy.”

“Rude, you should know something about me,” Flowey bet far to the side, his yellow petals almost touching the ground. “I’m very nice, but I don’t like to share my toys. It’s like asking to share dessert. How could you do that when it’s a tantalizing treat, dripping in honey and made just for you? I won’t let anyone else but me sink their fangs into it!”

You shivered at Flowey’s wording. “You’re not… planning to eat someone?”

“As if!” Flowey laughed, a tiny, high pitched noise l like a little silver bell. “It’s a toy, Rude, not a dessert. It’s meant to be played with. Haven’t you ever heard of a metaphor before?”

“I’m sorry, that was really rude of me.” Your face flushed with embarrassed heat, ashamed that you would jump to that kind of conclusion. “And it’s sweet you want to help me get home, but I’d feel better letting you help me if I could help you, too,” you pressed, unsure of what to think about Flowey. He seemed nice enough, a little stuck up, but you couldn’t understand why Axe or Mutt would allow him on the property if they weren’t friends. Did they know he was here?

Flowey hummed thoughtfully. A small tangle of vines popped out of the ground and wrapped around your ankles, anchoring you into place. Your heart leapt into your throat as Flowey reappeared next to your boot, his stem growing until he was tall enough to look you in the eyes, his head as big as a sunflower.

“You’ve already helped, I suppose,” he grumbled, the tip of his leaf tilting your chin up. “My toy has this bad habit of attaching itself to humans. I guess I should be grateful you wandered off.”

“Why would I have it?” You asked, fear starting to build in you as the vines at your feet grew until they caught your wrists, pinning them at your sides. Flowey definitely  _ was _ more dangerous than he let on, if he could grow and shrink his vines at will.

“Why else would someone steal my toy? To play with it.” Flowey growled, his face close to your face and neck. You could feel his breath as he smelled you, searching closely for the scent he sought. “But you don’t seem to have it... Shoot, and I was so sure I was close!” Flowey sighed, his breath the perfume of the buttercup he usually resembled. “Fine! I’ll take you back to the Gaster idiots. I don’t want them stomping about the woods and interrupting my game.”

“Gaster?” you breathed in relief as the vines shrank away, releasing you. Flowey laughed again, his high, silver bell chuckle echoing off the trees as he shrank in size again.

“You’ve lived with them for how long, and you don’t even know their last name?” Flowey howled with laughter, his leaves holding the belly of his stem. “You really  _ are _ Rude!”

Your cold cheeks flushed with an embarrassed heat as you followed along behind Flowey. Maybe you were rude. How could you say you were close to them and not know their last name? What else didn’t you know?

“Hey Rude,” Flowey stopped and let you walk up to him, searching you with narrowed, onyx colored eyes. “If you really want to do me a favor, I’d appreciate you not telling all the Gasters about me. I’m not hurting anybody in these woods, I just want to find my toy. And half the fun of finding something is looking for it, wouldn’t you agree?”

“I… I guess.” you mumbled, trying not to agree with anything in case you had to lie to this Flowey. You wanted to ask the others about this monster. The village hadn’t been built yet; other monsters were supposed to be living on the mountain. How had Flowey been surviving on the surface without food?

Flowey hummed and he stared at you for a long minute, his dark eyes boring into yours. “Alright, fine, I’ll trust you to keep my secret, even though you’re Rude.” He added nonchalantly, waving one of his leaves through the air, “But you should say hi to Pap for me. We’re good friends and he knows I’m just here to play.”

Your eyes widened as Flowey disappeared into the ground again, popping up further away as he led you through the woods. Pap knew him? They were friends? Your brows furrowed as you thought. If they really were friends, then you could trust Flowey. Pap had good judgement. But first, you had to get home and make sure Pap could verify this. Right now, the only option you had was to trust that Flowey would take you home.

The only other option was to wait in the woods, alone, until Mutt got power back to his computer. They would look for you, if you didn’t come home, but you didn’t want to tempt that misty black figure or that song to lure you away again.

The walk was long; you had gone far deeper than you had originally thought. But, true to his word, Flowey led you back to the edge of the lawn for Lane 66. You breathed a sigh of relief, holding onto the side of the shed as you gazed up at the lights in the windows. You couldn’t wait to be back inside, to hug any of the brothers in your sight before snagging lunch and taking the longest, hottest bath of your life to chase away the chill the mist had forced into your bones. You turned to Flowey with a smile, about to thank him, but that smile slid from your face as you failed to spot the bright yellow of his petals.

“Thank you!” You called out to the words, unsure if he was close enough to hear you, but feeling bad that you had been, as he was so keen to remind you, rude. You quickly crossed the misty lawn, ignoring the troublesome branch in favor of the door around front. 

The brass knob lingered beneath your hand, untouched, as you realized that you should tell someone about what happened. A feeling of unease filled you and you clenched your numb fingers into a fist. Would anyone believe you? When Pap and Axe had found you, they hadn’t heard that song. They thought you were wandering out on your own. If you started telling the brothers you were hearing voices, and seeing figures in the mist that weren’t there… what would they think?

Flowey hadn’t seen anything, you thought to yourself. He had commented on your walking into the woods and running into the ravens. If there had been someone there, if Flowey had heard that song, too, wouldn’t he have said something? Wouldn’t he have asked if it was someone you knew, or avoided you entirely, since he seemed to like his privacy so much?

And that song… it was one you sang yourself. The other time you had heard it it didn’t sound like anything but strange noise, but if you were losing your grip…

The misty rain gathered on the white fur lining and dripped into your eyes as you stood there, staring at the curved brass. You had to be having a mental break, or were close to one. There was no other explanation besides schizophrenia or psychosis, but those were lifelong disorders and your family had no medical history of mental illness. If Pap and Axe didn’t notice the song, it wasn’t a monster thing, either. It was all in your head. 

You wiped the mud off one cheek with your sleeve and tried to think. The first time you heard that song… you had a bad day. Red had insulted your scars when he saw you in your poppy sundress. You had been devastated by his initial reaction and it was only Sans and his reassurance that had helped you come back. He had calmed the initial anger you had and by doing so, deflected the depression you would have had. Maybe that song was your mind’s way of manifesting your fear of being seen. You had tried to walk away through the snow, hadn’t you?

A small chuckle escaped you as you slipped inside the brightly lit entrance hall. How far you’ve come from that day, you told yourself as you slipped out of your dripping, leather jacket and hung it on a hook. It was so much easier to show your scars around the brothers, not including the ones on your legs, and you and Red had grown so much closer since that incident. 

You sat on the floor and pulled off your muddy boots. The borrowed black hoodie you wore was soaked through and ice cold. The fur lining was covered in as much mud as your hands, and your black stockings were torn in several places from running through the snagging bramble.

This time, this strange song… you knew you were stressed. You had just had a really difficult story to listen to from Red and, though you bore it gladly because you cared for him, you looked up at the crystal chandler and reminded yourself that you were trying to carry it all. Everyone’s past and their pain. You were trying to juggle relationships with this alpha thing, put yourself through school, and fix problems from a nation that wanted war with yours. No wonder you were seeing things and hearing voices. No wonder you ran off into the woods. You were subconsciously trying to distance yourself from your stressors.

You sighed heavily and pushed yourself to your feet. If you were stressed, you would manage that. You would take more time for yourself to decompress and sort your thoughts. If you needed help, you sure as hell were going to take Mutt’s advice and ask for it. No more migraines, no more visions. You wanted to take care of your new family and you weren’t going to let yourself fail. 

And if you couldn’t trust yourself to go outside alone, then you would just find someone to go with you from now on. You never wanted to leave this place. This was your home. If you took precautions to manage yourself better, it wouldn’t happen again.

The balls of your wet feet squeaked against the wood floor as you made your way up the wide, oak staircase. You may have been ravenous, but it was far smarter to get into a hot bath as soon as possible before you got sick. You didn’t need one more thing to worry about for yourself.

~~~

“I dunno, sweetie. If you don’t want to go running, I have nothing else to offer besides yoga.”

“You really think yoga would help?” You tilted your head and looked at Abby on your phone’s tiny screen. It sat on the handles of the sink, propped up by the charger it was plugged into, and her tiny face looked up at you. You sat next to the sink, cross legged in nothing but white stockings and bra. You had taken care that only your left side faced the screen and Abby couldn’t glimpse any of your scars through the camera.

It was easier to show the brothers, but you had yet to trust Abby that much.

“Well, yeah, how else are you going to find a workout if you want to stay inside?” Abby rolled her glitter covered lashes at you and you saw her manicured hand come up to tick points off her fingers. “You don’t want to spend money on a gym membership, you don’t want to go buy a set of home weights, and you won’t even come to our school to use the  _ free  _ pool! I’d say you could take pole dancing classes, but something tells me that a shy little thing like you wouldn’t like that.”

“Definitely not,” you giggled. “But you said you have books on yoga instruction, right? Can I borrow them?”

“Of course! But it’s a little late to try and get into shape for your date.”

“I’m not trying to lose weight,” you rolled your eyes back at her, a brush in your hand as you experimented with different styles for your drying hair. You wiped at the steamy, lavender haze covering the mirror from your bath. Even though your fingers were still wrinkled, soaking for an hour and just letting your mind drift lazily had done wonders for your mental state. “I just want to manage my stress levels. It’s getting to be too much to handle. I can’t just take a bath every time I get overwhelmed. I want to prevent getting that frazzled in the first place.”

“Well, better late than never,” Abby sighed, resting her chin on her palm as she watched you. “It won’t help much now, not with our midterms next week, but if you start and keep with it regular exercise will go a long way to helping you out. If you really want to go the extra mile, you should avoid large amounts of caffeine or saturated fats. I know! It’s like asking you to shoot yourself in the foot with all the sleepless nights ahead of us,” Abby held a hand up defensively, like you were going to start yelling at her for suggesting to cut out coffee and junk food, “but trust me. If you can’t do it now, do it after midterms. Caffeine raises your heart rate and it’s addictive. The crash isn’t worth the jitters. I don’t need to get started on the cons of a bad diet.”

“What about just one cup a day?” you asked, not wanting to give up your morning bonding time with Milord more than the coffee itself. “Just in the morning?”

“If you switch to just black coffee, without tons of sugar,” Abby said slowly, tapping her white teeth with a french tipped nail, “and you stick to just one cup, then that’s actually good for you. But NO sugar! It has to be plain, black, and bitter. What you really should do is drink a calming herbal tea. Chamomile or lavender are great choices and a spoonful of honey will help your immune system, too.”

“Thanks Abby,” you smiled at her, truly appreciating her advice. Plain, black coffee wouldn’t be hard to do. You didn’t like your coffee too sweet anyway. “I feel bad asking you to go out of your way for me with all this.”

“Are you kidding? Nobody lets me boss them around about their diet and exercise habits like you do!” Abby beamed at you, adding, “and  _ no one _ lets me dress them for a date! I’m still mad you won’t let me actually come over. I’d  _ love _ to show you how to do this ringlet waterfall with your hair on my new curler. It’s  _ gorgeous _ !”

“I’m not trying to get too dolled up,” you giggled again at your own phrasing. “It’s not like Pap and I are doing anything fancy, I just want to look nice for him.”

With Abby’s instruction, she helped you turn your hair bun into a messy one, complete with little wisps of hair that fell into your eyes. You thought it looked just plain messy. She thought you looked seductive.

“Hold up your makeup bag!” She said excitedly through the screen, leaning forward to see what you had despite the motion not actually doing anything. You held your small cloth bag up to the camera, letting her inspect the few old things you did have. She laughed and waved a hand at you. “You’re adorable, sweetie. Now seriously, show me what you have.”

“That’s it.” You mumbled, pink in the face. You had gotten it years ago, after you had gotten out of the hospital, as a way to try and feel normal and pretty. It didn’t work. People taunted you anyways and the makeup only drew bad attention. Mainly advances from guys that you didn’t want looking at you. “I don’t think I need it, Abby. I don’t see why-”

“Oh, stop being so… old fashioned!” Abby snapped. “You’re a beautiful woman, sweetie, you should paint your face and strut your stuff if you’re going on a date! Or are you second guessing this? I can set you up with this guy from practice. He’s really cute, and he’s got the broadest shoulders you’ll ever see! His name is-”

“I’m not second guessing this!” You snapped back at her. “I just… I don’t normally like the attention I get when I wear makeup. It makes me feel weird.”

“Then don’t cake it on.” Abby said gently, her groomed eyebrow rising. “You have that kind of face where you can get away with a natural look. Not me. I have to wake up half an hour early every day to sculpt this masterpiece you see.”

“Another reason not to wear makeup!” You playfully jabbed at the camera with a small brush meant for eye shadow. “I don’t want to wake up early just to bat my glittery eyelashes at rando guys.”

“What’s wrong with glitter?” Abby pouted at you, the pink gloss on her lips shining in the light. “I think it’s very flattering, if used right. Not like that shade of brown you’re using, sweetie. You want something lighter than your skin tone over your lids and up to your brows.”

“Oh, thanks,” you mumbled, grabbing the fluffy, white towel on your knee to clean your face off for another try.

“You know, what I don’t get,” Abby rolled on her bed, knocking her phone over and jumbling the camera before she righted it again. “Is if you’re so concerned about decreasing your stress levels, why are you… dating a skeleton monster?”

“Huh?” You paused as you applied a thin strip of eyeliner to your lids and raised an eyebrow at her.

“You’re missing the biggest stress reliever of all, sweetie!” Abby rolled her hand at you, like she was some kind of high end fashionista. “How are you supposed to get laid with a guy that has no junk? I assume it’s all bones down there, anyway.”

Your hand jerked and you streaked eyeliner all over the side of your face. You grumbled irritably, snatching the towel up to reset your face. “It’s not about the sex, first of all,” you growled, glaring at the screen as you resurfaced. “The person is what’s important! And-and they do have ways,” you mumbled, your face turning so red you doubted you’d ever need to apply blush to your cheeks.

“No. Way.” Abby’s eyes got so wide you could see a spot she missed with her mascara. “You didn’t.”

“So what if I have?” You mumbled quietly, focusing on your eyelids with the determination to not mess up this time. 

“Ho-lee shit.” Abby gave you a scrutinizing gaze. “No wonder you never give all the eye candy on campus a second glance. I didn’t know you had a thing for their kind.”

“It’s not a thing for their kind,” you huffed. You stopped, one eye done, and turned towards the screen. “I want to be with someone who treats me right and genuinely cares for me. I don’t care if they’re monster or human. So far, it just happened that that kind of guy has been a monster.”

“This Pap must be one hell of a guy for you to go pro bone-o.” Abby giggled. You couldn’t help but join her from her bad pun. You’ll have to tell that one to Sans.

“He is,” you said, knowing she took that as just Pap, but meaning all the guys you had as betas. All the ones you wanted to bring in, too. But as Abby was taking this idea of a date with Pap so well, and surprisingly, the fact that you had been intimate with someone like him, you didn’t want to push your luck and tell her that you were polyamorous, too. “You know that he’s the one that insisted on this date, not me? He says he wants to do this right. You know, going out together… he wants the chance to romance me and honestly I’m really excited for it. My ex never did stuff like that.”

Granted, that ex was the guy you dated in high school, but Abby didn’t need to know that.

“He’s a  _ romantic _ ?” Abby’s jaw dropped and you giggled at her. “Well… shit, sweetie. To want to do all that even after doin’ the deed… that’s something. I can’t tell you how many guys were just… ‘wham, bam, thank you ma’am’ to me.”

The sad expression on her face tugged at your heart. She really was a nice person. It sucked that, despite being a bit boy crazy, she always seemed to pick terrible guys. At least she had with Cam, who was the only ex you knew by name.

“You’ll find someone,” you said gently, picking the phone up as you finished the last bit of mascara on your lashes. “Hey, Abby, it’s okay. You’ll find a guy who’s good for you. I bet he’ll be just as into taking care of himself as you are and you’ll… I dunno, go jogging together or try out that vegan place you’ve been telling me about.”

It was a place you didn’t want to go. You respected the choices others made, as long as they respected your desire to eat real cheese and meat. A life without eating burgers was not your favorite choice.

“Yeah, maybe,” Abby shrugged. “So… is it good?” she asked, the question seemingly bringing her out of her sulk. “You know, being with a guy who’s all bones?”

“Heh, uh,” you flushed again and looked away. You knew it was a question to distract her from her thoughts, but it was awkward to answer regardless. “I… well, yeah. I mean, it’s not like I’ve ever had a bad time. They… always know where the right spots are. I mean I’ve never… not gotten off.”

“No way,” Abby propped herself onto one elbow, her perfect nails picking at the threads of her pink sheets. “No one’s that good.”

“You remember Sans telling you that everything has a soul?” you asked. Abby nodded, so you went on with your theory. “So humans all have a sound that comes from theirs. Mine sounds like a robin, but it changes with my emotion. Like when I get worked up,” you shrugged one elbow, turning pink again as you applied chapstick to your lips (since you lacked gloss or lipstick.) “It makes this song, which I’m guessing happens with all humans. So if that happens just from getting turned on, then when you start messing with a good spot, it probably changes too, right? They can hear that, so I’m guessing that’s how they know.”

“So this guy’s a big romantic, is a great cook, and always knows where those special spots are?” Abby chewed on her lip, scraping a bunch of gloss off with her white teeth. “Um… so Pap and Sans are brothers, right? Is Sans single?”

You froze, a bunch of makeup in your fist from cleaning up. Rather than getting upset, your face fell into a smug grin as you got close to the camera. Abby backed away, her cheeks pink. 

“W-what?”

“I’m so proud of you,” you smiled, dropping your old makeup into your bag. “You’ve come so far from the racist little snob I once knew.”

“Oh, haha.” Abby glared at you for a moment before her face softened. “Well, can you blame me? I know you’re weird as hell but… I’ve never met a guy I’d change a law for. All your housemates... They must be special if you’re willing to fight against racist asshats like Cam for them.”

“Yeah, they are something worth fighting for.” You smiled softly at the dress in your hands, the last piece before you were ready. Nerves were starting to flutter in your stomach and you didn’t know why. You knew Pap, what was there to be afraid of?

“Hey, you never answered my question about- ooooo! A qi pao! That’s gorgeous, sweetie, where did you find one?”

“The mall,” you turned for her after you had zipped up the back, letting her see all of the intricate wisteria blossoms stitched in white over the tight fitting, seafoam blue silk. There were slits along both sides of the bell to show off your legs, but the white stockings hid your scars and made your exposed calves and thighs appear smooth. She gave you a gentle applause and you shyly picked at your fingertips. “And, to answer your question,” you smiled at her smile, sincerely appreciating her in this moment. “Sans is technically single, but I know he has a girl he likes, so you probably won’t get anywhere with him.”

Abby huffed but, seeing your excitement, let her irritation and disappointment go. “You’re a vision, sweetie. Now go knock him off his bony feet.”

“Thanks,” you mumbled, turning pink again.

“Oh, wait! You’ve got something on your right arm-”

You immediately flushed red and clapped a hand over your scars. “No, it’s okay! Just makeup!” You snatched at the phone, fumbled it, and dropped it into the sink. “Sorry, Abby, sorry, I’ll get it! Um, I’ll text you later!”

Without waiting for a reply, you ended the video chat and held the phone tightly in your grip. You sighed and looked at your reflection, at the exposed scar trailing down your arm, and leaned your forehead against the mirror. One thing at a time, you told yourself as you studied your eyeliner. Abby had shown a lot to you today, she deserved that trust, but you shouldn’t dump that on her today.

Taking a few deep breaths to center yourself, you set your phone back on the counter to charge and emerged from your room into the house. It was still only early afternoon, but the house was quiet. You picked nervously at your fingers as you silently walked down the hall, towards the door with the caution tape all over it.

Raising your trembling fist, you knocked. Why were you so nervous? This was Pap. He was sweet and cared for you. Why were you scared? The makeup suddenly felt like too much, the dress too flashy. You overdid it and he would reject you and-

“HONEY?” Pap’s voice came through the door and you jumped. “I’LL BE JUST A MINUTE. I CAN’T FIND THIS SHIRT I WANT… CAN I MEET YOU IN THE KITCHEN?”

“S-sure,” you stuttered, trying to take another deep breath so he wouldn’t hear your nerves. “I’ll meet you there.”

As you slowly shuffled down the hall, you glanced at your bathroom and debated going back in to wipe your face clean. But the towel was already dirty from you wiping away so many mistakes. If you tried that now, you’d have to wash your face, and then you might get water all over your dress. Pap was just looking for a shirt, it would be rude of you to make him wait after you already told him you were ready.

You grumbled to yourself as you made your way towards the kitchen. Anxious thoughts assaulted your mind. Why did you let Abby talk you into doing all that? She looked amazing with makeup, but you just felt weird.

“Hey, Mutt?” You opened up the basement door and called down the steps. You could already smell the clove-scented smoke of his black cigarettes.

“Kind of busy, pretty bird,” he called back up. Just the sound of his raspy voice brought out a sigh of relief from you. He must be working hard if he was risking smoking in the house. “You need something?”

“I, uh,” you hesitated, thinking quickly. He had been in the basement since the power came back, working on his computer and checking that nothing had happened to his systems during the blackout. It was weird to see him working so hard and you didn’t want to take him away from that to help you manage your pre-date jitters. “I forgot to put my laundry in the dryer. Do you think you could after…?”

“Sure thing, just let me finish these diagnostics.”

“Thanks. I appreciate you.”

“Love you too, Robin.”

You quietly shut the basement door, wishing that you could talk to him more to distract yourself. Maybe you could go back down and ask about the home cameras. If he could pull up footage from you wandering off, then maybe you could catch a glimpse of that figure in the mist, or Flowey, or-

You stopped yourself. That figure and its song were in your head. Songs couldn’t compel monsters to do things, and you’ve never heard of it happening to a human before. Flowey had brought you back home and apparently Pap knew him.

Pap wouldn’t be long, right? 

Determined to calm yourself, you went to the cupboards and started pulling out all the things you knew you’d need to make dessert for the night. Pap never said what he wanted to do for dinner, but you had promised Sans and Milord something special for sticking to their agreement after the chess match. Vanilla and coffee… a cappuccino cake would be a good flavor. You still had Madagascar vanilla. A whipped topping would be a nice, delicate balance to the not-so-sweet cake.

Or maybe a coffee jelly? No, those were tasty, but simple. You wanted something special to reward those two. Sans hated cleaning and the way he did it drove Milord nuts. What if you did a vanilla log cake with espresso-based syrup for drizzle, and a fruit compote filling? But you didn’t know what their favorite fruits were. What if one of them hated apple, or strawberry?

You chewed your lip in thought, then quickly stopped as you tasted the chapstick on your lips. You didn’t know their favorite foods outside dessert. You barely knew what kind of movies they liked, and aside from Red you had no idea what their tastes in music were. You didn’t know their best friend growing up or what their favorite animals were. Hell, you didn’t know their last name until a few hours ago. Flowey was right, you really were rude.

The sound of steps behind you made you turn your head. Butch was coming down the hall and his gaze was focused on the holey, red sleeve he picked at. His white lights flickered like they did when he was upset about something and the bone of his brow was furrowed.

“h-hey... Lily? can I… talk to you about-”

Butch stopped short just past the archway, his white lights widening as they looked at you. A gold flush immediately took over most of his skull and he froze on the spot.

“What’s wrong?” you asked, setting the vanilla extract in your hand on the black marble counter. You turned towards him, concerned. “Of course you can talk to me. What is it?”

The color across his nasal ridge deepened and he sputtered, trying to speak but unable to get the words out. A loud, sharp crack sounded behind you and you jumped, whirling around to see that the glass in the window over the sink had fractured in several places. The noise scared Butch, too. He immediately snapped out of his frozen state and bolted for the basement door.

“Butch?” you chased after him as far as the middle of the hall before he slammed the door shut against you. You slowed to a stop, your hand suspended in the air, as you listened to him storm down the creaky steps towards Mutt.

Was it something you did? You looked down and noticed the seafoam blue silk, the white embroidered wisteria, and felt your cheeks turn red with embarrassment. You definitely overdressed. You returned to the kitchen, pulling at the high collar around your neck, and wondered if you should tell Pap to give you a moment. You could clean your face and change in ten minutes. If you left now, you wouldn’t keep him waiting too long and-

And you ran into him in the entryway. Literally. You were trying to move so fast with your eyes focused on your feet that you bumped right into his tall frame. The soft, red fabric of his mitten caught you by the arm before you fell.

“I’M SORRY I TOOK SO LONG,” Pap said quickly, “I HAD THIS WHOLE OUTFIT PLANNED BUT I… UM…”

You blinked up at him, slowly taking the fact that he wasn’t wearing his usual white chest plate or blue shorts. Tonight he wore a pair of light blue, acid washed jeans that ended several inches above his ankles and were held up by a brown leather belt. Up top he had a white, button up dress shirt who’s sleeves were rolled up to his elbows. His skull was flushed orange and his white lights hazed as he took you in, too.

“OH STARS,” he sighed, setting you back on your feet as he pulled at the collar of his shirt. “YOU… YOU LOOK BEAUTIFUL, HONEY.”

You flushed a dark red and fidgeted with your fingertips. “It’s… not too much? The makeup and all that?”

“WHAT MAKEUP?”

You giggled in appreciation, the sound a little bit higher than you remembered it being. Did that come out of you? “You, um, look really hanson too. Handsome! I mean nice!” Your face burned as you buried it behind one of your hands. You were acting stupid. This was just a date. You knew Pap. Why the hell were you acting like this?

Pap let out a short laugh. He gently removed your hand from your face and you saw that he still had a hearty dusting of orange across his nasal ridge. “I’M, EH, NERVOUS TOO. BUT THANKS FOR THINKING I LOOK OKAY. IT WASN’T MY FIRST PICK.”

“What was?” You asked, letting him gently usher you back into the kitchen with a few pats on your back.

“WELL, I USED TO HAVE THIS WHOLE OUTFIT SPECIFICALLY FOR DATES,” Pap studied the ingredients you had already pulled out before leaning back against the counter top. He crossed his arms and stared at you, noticed you saw him staring, then focused on the steel fridge as his color deepened. “I SPENT A LONG TIME PUTTING IT TOGETHER BACK WHEN I LIVED IN SNOWDIN. THAT’S DISTRICT ONE,” he added, glancing at you and catching your confused look. “I THOUGHT I HAD BROUGHT IT WITH ME WHEN WE MOVED, BUT I CAN’T FIND IT.”

“You do look nice, though,” you reiterated, pink in the face. Pap gave you a broad, confident smile and you asked shyly, “So, what did you want to do for our date? I know we said we’d make dinner, but you mentioned wanting to show me something, too?”

“I WANTED TO!” Pap’s grin fell and he threw up his hands in frustration, turning towards the window. “BUT LOOK AT ALL THIS MIST! I HAD THIS PERFECT EVENING PLANNED, BUT THERE’S NO POINT IN GOING OUT IF WE CAN’T SEE ANYTHING AND- AND… WHAT HAPPENED TO THE WINDOW?”

He leaned in closer, his white lights narrowing to study the large fractures in the glass. You scratched at the back of your head, almost ruining your hairdo, and quickly stopped. “I think it was my fault,” you said slowly, thinking back on the time something similar happened. The mugs in your room shattered then, too. And even Pap was a bit flustered when he called you beautiful. “I’m sorry I broke the window, and ruined your plans… But I’m okay with staying inside,” you added, thinking about your morning. “Maybe we could just… save what you had in mind for our next date?”

“I DON’T BLAME YOU FOR THE WEATHER, HONEY. I’M PRETTY SURE HUMAN’S CAN’T-” Pap paused, his lights flickering as he processed what you said. “...NEXT?”

You nodded, your cheeks warm, as you reached over the counter and pulled the cookbook from the windowsill. “I feel like we’ll have a lot of fun even if it’s not what you planned. You’re just that kind of guy, you know?” You glanced up from the pages, feeling your face turn hot at the beaming look Pap was giving. “Um, s-so, what did you have in mind for dinner? I was thinking about a cappuccino cake and some oatmeal cookies for dessert. Does that sound good?”

“HONEY, EVERYTHING YOU BAKE IS WONDERFUL, BUT WE ONLY HAVE ONE OVEN.” Pap took the book from you, flipped towards the back, and offered it back to you. “AND IF WERE MAKING ENOUGH OF THIS FOR EVERYONE, WE WON’T HAVE ENOUGH SPACE FOR TWO DESSERTS.”

“Pizza?” you looked up from the recipe, your eyebrow raised. It wasn’t a bad idea, it was awesome, but you never thought of pizza as something a determined romantic like Pap would pick. You had almost expected some complicated Italian recipe. Not that homemade pizza couldn’t be complicated.

“OF COURSE! IT COMBINES OUR AMAZING SKILLS!” Pap came up behind you and leaned, his skull right next to your face as he flipped back and forth between the many pages and variations of the recipe. “YOU’RE THE BEST BAKER, SO YOU’RE IN CHARGE OF THE DOUGH, AND I’M THE BEST AT SAUCES, SO I’LL TAKE CARE OF THAT. THEN WHEN WE COMBINE THEM, IT’LL MAKE SOMETHING THAT’LL KNOCK ANYONE”S SOCKS OFF!”

When he put it that way, you couldn’t help but grin with excitement. You turned your head and kissed his cheekbone, impressed that he would be so thoughtful as to combine your talents for the night’s meal. Pap flushed orange and straightened back up, rubbing at the spot with his red mitt to hide his smile.

“We could do two!” You laid the book on the counter and rushed over to the fridge, thinking of toppings and anything else that sounded good. “You guys are vegetarian, so a garden variety makes sense, but what if we pan fry the water sausage and use it for a faux meat one? I bet if we sliced one of them real thin and added the right spices we could get something like pepperoni.”

“HOW LONG WILL YOUR CAKE AND COOKIES TAKE? I KNOW YOU NEED TIME TO LET THEM COOL BEFORE YOU DECORATE.”

“This pizza dough needs to rise for an hour, what if we use the time during that to prep the toppings and icing?”

“WAIT! HONEY!” Pap grabbed your arm, stopping you before you could dig into the mass of ingredients you both had pulled out for everything. He held out his pink apron to you, saying, “I KNOW YOU SPENT HOURS TRYING TO LOOK THIS NICE FOR ME. I’D HATE FOR ALL YOUR HARD WORK TO BE RUINED BY A BIT OF FLOUR.”

You froze, your heart pounding in your chest as he put the apron on you and gently tied the string at your back. His hands lingered on your waist and his eye lights hazed as he looked you over.

“OH, WOW.” He breathed. You could feel his grip tighten ever so slightly on your hips and caught a glimpse of his glowing, orange tongue manifesting as his jaw worked, trying to get more words out. As you watched that same color creep back onto his nasal ridge, an idea occurred to you. Mutt liked stripes. Red liked collars. Pap liked aprons.

You reached up and gently took his skull in your hands, guiding him down so that you could plant a slow, burning kiss against his teeth. He leaned into you, giving you just the smallest taste of brown sugar before he pulled himself away. “Thanks for thinking of me,” you breathed, barely hearing yourself over the blood rushing in your ears. Pap nodded, his lights nearly gone in his sockets from how hazed they had become.

“W-WE SHOULD GET STARTED.” Pap cleared his nonexistent throat and straightened back up. His hands fell from your waist and he readjusted his belt as he turned back towards the counter. “IF WE’RE LATE, THE OTHERS WILL COME LOOKING FOR DINNER AND I HAVE NO INTENTION OF SHARING YOU TONIGHT IF THEY SEE YOU.”

You smiled, your chest warm with affection as you watched him try to distract himself with prep work. He really was a gentleman.

The pizza dough, since it needed an hour to rise, was the first thing you got done. Pap worked on starting the sauce, to give it ample time to simmer and absorb flavor. The two of you didn’t have much time for casual conversation, not with trying to coordinate time and prep work for a cake, two different pizzas, and cookies, too. Most of the time you were bustling around each other, almost like a dance, as you traded information and updates on whatever it was you were working on. It was a lot of hard work, without Butch there to help you both, but something about the broad smile on Pap’s face told you he didn’t mind at all.

“Okay, the cake’s cooling, the pies are in the oven,” you waved an oven mitt at your face, trying to cool yourself before the sweat ruined your makeup. “All that’s left is the cookies and they’re all trayed up, ready to go. Those can bake as the pizza cools.”

“SIT DOWN AND CATCH YOUR BREATH, HONEY,” Pap pulled a chair over from the table and sat you in it. “LET ME TAKE CARE OF CLEAN UP. YOU’VE ALREADY BEEN WORKING IN THE YARD ALL MORNING.”

You swallowed past a bubble of worry in your throat, watching Pap gather dirty dishes in the sink and wondering if he had seen you wander off. He usually got up early, not as early as you and Milord, but earlier than the rest of his brothers. Or maybe had just glanced out his window before working on the breakers.

“Th-thanks for fixing the power,” you mumbled, clutching the oven mitt tightly in your hands. Should you ask him? The two of you were having a wonderful night. What if he didn’t actually know that flower monster?

“IT’S NO TROUBLE, HONEY.” Pap smiled at you over his shoulder before his white lights fixed on your chest. A sinking feeling hit you. It was too late to avoid the subject, he had noticed whatever sound your soul was making. “ARE YOU FEELING OKAY? THIS WASN’T TOO MUCH FOR YOU?”

“No, it’s not that,” you bit your lip and stared down at the pink apron covering your chest. Best to just get it over with. “Pap, do you… know someone named Flowey?”

His lights went wide and he paused, a stack of bowls in his hand, on his way to the sink. “FLOWEY?” he repeated, his free hand coming up to scratch at the side of his skull. “I HAVEN’T HEARD THAT NAME IN AGES. YES, I KNOW HIM. BUT WHERE DID YOU HEAR THAT?”

“I, um, met him. Out in the woods.” you mumbled quietly, watching Pap closely for a reaction. “He said you and him were friends.”

“WELL, I GUESS YOU COULD CALL US FRIENDS,” Pap shrugged, dumping the bowls into the sink before leaning against the counter. “I USED TO TALK TO HIM A LOT BACK IN SNOWDIN. BUT WE NEVER REALLY DID THINGS THAT FRIENDS DO TOGETHER. HE WOULD JUST… SHOW UP EVERY NOW AND THEN TO TALK TO ME. HE WAS NICE LIKE THAT. I COULD TELL HIM ABOUT PROBLEMS I HAD THAT I DIDN’T WANT TO SHARE WITH SANS AND HE WOULD GIVE ME ADVICE. YOU SAID YOU MET HIM?”

You nodded, feeling a little better about Flowey. If he had been the kind of person to listen and give advice, he couldn’t be all bad. He had come off a little snobby, but if Pap trusted him enough to open up about his problems back in the Underground, then the little yellow flower’s heart was in the right place. “Yeah. I got a little lost… looking for something in the woods. He helped me find my way home.”

“YOU SHOULDN’T WANDER BY YOURSELF IN THE WOODS,” Pap said sternly, wagging a mittened finger at you.

“I know, I won’t do it again,” you hung your head, feeling ashamed that you had chased a figment of your imagination. “I’m glad there was someone friendly to help me.”

“YOU’RE LUCKY FLOWEY SHOWED HIMSELF TO YOU. HE DOESN’T NORMALLY DO THAT FOR ANYONE,” Pap crossed the kitchen in two long strides and put a reassuring hand on your shoulder. “DON’T WORRY, HONEY. I’M NOT MAD AT YOU FOR GETTING LOST. I JUST WANT YOU TO BE SAFE.”

“Hey, Pap?” you asked quietly, looking shyly up into his lights. “I won’t ask you to lie, but… please don’t tell the others I got lost.”

“I WON’T. PROMISE.” Pap smiled at you, reassuring you with that simple look. “I’VE NEVER SEEN YOU MAKE THE SAME MISTAKE TWICE.”

You smiled back, feeling much better. He was right, you wouldn’t wander off again. You’d make sure of that. It also helped knowing that Flowey was a friendly monster. Pap wasn’t even worried to hear that you had found Flowey on the property. “Let’s get that cake decorated,” you said, rising from the chair. “After we pull the pizzas from the oven, I can go get the others for dinner and-”

“NOPE! I’M DOING THAT!” Pap gently tapped the top of your head with a clean spatula before you swiped it from his hand. “I TOLD YOU, HONEY, YOU’RE TOO PRETTY TONIGHT. IF THEY SEE YOU I WON’T BE ABLE TO GET YOU BACK WITHOUT A FIGHT.”

Color rose to your cheeks as you giggled at the comment. He really did want you all to himself. “Okay, so where should we eat? I’m guessing you don’t want us at the table.”

“HOW ABOUT THE LIVING ROOM? YOU MENTIONED WATCHING A MOVIE, WE COULD DO THAT WHILE WE EAT AND AFTER I CAN GIVE YOU THAT THING I MADE FOR YOU.”

“What movies do you like?”

“UM, I’M NOT SURE,” Pap hummed, watching you spread the fluffy, vanilla icing all over the coffee-flavored cake. “THE OLD BLACK AND WHITES SANS LIKES ARE KIND OF BORING. THE AFRICA DOCUMENTARY THAT BUTCH AND AXE WATCHED WAS KIND OF INTERESTING…” Pap paused, his white lights narrowed as he thought. “I DON’T MIND THOSE SPY FLICKS MUTT PREFERS.”

“So, you’re more of an action kind of guy?” You asked, going over the list of movies that you had bought. Sans had seen ‘The Count of Monte Cristo’ and ‘Casablanca’. Then there was the documentary, and the spy flicks must be the James Bond movies you had. “I don’t see you as a horror enthusiast. What about a romance movie?”

“WHAT DO YOU MEAN, ACTION?”

“Oh, just the genre,” you explained, thinking back on all the film knowledge you had. Without any friends, you had a lot of time over the past seven years to watch anything and everything. “I picked up ‘Fast and the Furious’ and ‘Dark Knight’. Do you like the idea of superheros or race cars better?”

“OOO, ANYTHING WITH CARS!” Pap said enthusiastically, stuffing the oven mitts over his hands. “I’VE ALWAYS WANTED ONE, IT WOULD BE NICE TO SEE WHAT THEY REALLY LOOK LIKE OUTSIDE OF A BOOK!”

You nodded slowly, watching Pap take the pizza out of the oven. You should’ve known he would like cars. He had an old muscle car as the frame for his bed. “When you say books, you mean those ones on your bookshelf?”

“YUP!” Pap pushed the trays with the pizza back on the counter and put the cookies into the oven. “I FOUND ALL THESE OLD CAR MANUALS IN THE DUMP. THEY WERE REALLY HELPFUL WHEN I TAUGHT MYSELF TO BUILD PUZZLES. I TRIED BUILDING A CAR, TOO. I HAD THE FRAME MADE AND EVERYTHING, BUT I COULD NEVER FIND ALL THE PIECES I NEED SO I JUST HOLLOWED IT BACK OUT AND USED IT FOR MY BED.”

“You tried to build a car?” you asked, your jaw dropping in astonishment.

“IT’S NOT THAT HARD,” Pap shrugged and pulled the steaming tray of oatmeal cookies from the oven. “I EXPERIMENTED A LOT WITH MY PUZZLES TO FIGURE OUT THE MECHANICS, BUT LIKE I SAID, I WAS MISSING A LOT OF KEY PARTS. GASOLINE, FOR ONE, AND SPARK PLUGS. AND TIRES THAT DIDN’T HAVE HOLES.”

“That’s… really cool,” you said, eyeing Pap in a new light. You knew he was handy and built puzzles, but the complexity of those things was a bit foreign to you. A car, on the other hand, was something you understood just how difficult it could be to work on. Your dad used to get frustrated with his old pickup truck all the time. No wonder Mutt called Pap a mechanical genius.

“HONEY, YOU SHOULD GO PUT THE MOVIE IN,” Pap said to you, beaming from the compliment, and patted your back to herd you from the kitchen. “I’M GOING TO GET THE OTHERS AS SOON AS I FINISH CUTTING THE PIZZA. DO YOU WANT ONE OR TWO SLICES?”

“Um, two. One of each,” you said, wanting to try both, but then wondered if there would be enough for the brothers. They ate way more than you. “Actually, just one. The kind you’re not taking. We can try a bite of each others, if that’s okay?”

Pap nodded and you handed his apron back before heading towards the living room. Someone had cleaned up the sea of cushions. All of the couches and recliners were back to how they usually looked.

As you settled in front of the Playbox, searching the stack of movies for Pap’s request, you wondered. If you bought a cheap, old car in need of repair, would Pap be okay with working on it? He seemed to genuinely enjoy that kind of thing. He wouldn’t have tried to build his own car if he didn’t. It still didn’t feel right to ask that of him, you thought as you turned over the plastic case in your hands, so what if you offered to share the car? You bought it, he worked on it, and you both got to drive? You didn’t have a problem with the idea of paying for all the gas, either. Or parts, if he needed them. Did he know how to drive?

~~~

The living room was dark save for the light flickering off the television. The empty plates from dinner sat on the floor while you and Pap sat on the couch together, huddled close. You leaned your head against his chest, smiling as he watched, spellbound. You tightened the grip your arms had around his waist and he subconsciously shifted his arm over your side, giving your hip a small squeeze in return.

“Pap, can I have a cookie?” you asked quietly, pointing towards the plate he had taken from the kitchen. There was only one left, the rest had been slowly devoured by Pap over the course of the movie. It had been a small, sweet argument between the two of you when he had first brought them all back from the kitchen for just the two of you. The others had a whole cake, he argued, so why can’t you have these to yourselves?

Pap nodded and offered the plate to you, his white lights shining as the actors on screen drove their final race in the movie. You quietly thanked him and slowly chewed, savoring the warm taste of brown sugar. Stuffing the last of the cookie in your mouth, you gently moved his arm so that he held you entirely rather than just having his arm rest on you. A small sigh of contentment escaped you and you nuzzled closer. He was so warm and you felt so safe, curled up next to his tall frame. You really hoped he would sleep next to you tonight, you craved that feeling of security today.

A groan of disappointment escaped Pap as the credits started to roll. “WHAT HAPPENED TO BRIAN?” Pap said irritably, gesturing towards the slowly moving text. “HE LET DOM GET AWAY AFTER ALL THOSE HIJACKINGS, THERE’S NO WAY THE POLICE DEPARTMENT WOULD LET HIM GET AWAY WITH LETTING DOM GO!”

“There are sequels,” you smiled, reassuring him as he grumbled. “Quite a few of them, actually. I’ll pick them up for you, if you want.”

Pap turned to you, possibly to rant more about the characters, but the words fell short as he noticed how cuddled up to him you were. He flushed orange and gave you a gentle squeeze. “THAT WOULD BE VERY SWEET OF YOU, HONEY,” he said as he kissed the top of your head. “S-SO, UM,” he stuttered, his color deepening as you squeezed him back and hummed happily, “WHAT SHOULD WE DO NOW?”

“I dunno,” you purred, batting your lashes at him. “We could stay like this for awhile.”

Pap’s lights started to haze and he looked away, pulling at his shirt collar. “I KNOW!” he said suddenly, causing you to jump in surprise. “I HAVE THAT THING I MADE YOU! LET’S GO UPSTAIRS AND I’LL GO GRAB IT!”

“What did you-” you started to say, but were cut off by an overwhelming feeling of pressure and darkness. As suddenly as it happened, it stopped, and you fell onto your bed with the smell of brown sugar clinging to your clothes.

“NO PEEKING!” Pap lifted your hands to cover your eyes. You glanced through your fingers anyway, confused by his sudden excitement and curious about his gift. “I SAID NO PEEKING, HONEY!”

“Okay, okay,” you smiled, shutting your fingers tight as the smell of brown sugar wafted over you again. Whatever it was, you knew he had worked hard on it. It would be a poor repayment to spoil the surprise.

You actually heard him reappear before you smelled his magic again. His feet skidded across the wood floor and there was a loud bang as something heavy hit ground. You started to move your fingers, baffled by the noise, but stopped yourself before you looked. “Pap?” you asked softly, listening to something being dragged into place.

“OKAY, YOU CAN LOOK NOW!” Pap announced proudly. You drew your hands away from your face and saw him standing next to a handsome, cherry wood bookshelf nearly as tall as he was.

“Pap, that’s beautiful!” you exclaimed, jumping up from the bed and rushing over to investigate. He had placed it just on the other side of your pine dresser, but there was enough space for you to slip between the furniture to clean.

It was very well made and the red wood had swirls carved on the outside of the shelf. Everything was smooth from careful sanding and the shelves gleamed from polish. “Pap,” you hugged him tightly and looked up, your eyes shining with gratitude. “Thank you. You must’ve worked really hard on this.”

“WELL, YOU REALLY NEEDED ONE,” Pap gestured towards your stacks of free roaming books. He grinned sheepishly, his red mitt rubbing at the dusting of color across his nasal ridge. “I WANTED TO GET IT TO YOU SOONER THAN THIS, BUT IT WAS HARD FINDING THE WOOD IN THE SNOW.”

“Is that what you needed Axe’s help for?” You asked conversationally, leaving the embrace to start gathering up your books. Excitement coursed through you to have something new for your room. It felt more like a living space, your space, and having something like this only anchored the fact that this was your home.

“YES, HE HELPED.” Pap nodded, watching you with a grin on his skull as you tried alphabetizing your books, before changing your mind and sorting them by subject. You glanced around at the stacks of tomes on the floor, wondering where your physiology textbook went. “I HAVE SOMETHING ELSE, TOO, SO JUST WAIT A MOMENT AND I’LL BE RIGHT BACK.”

“Pap, you didn’t!” You froze, textbook in hand, to shoot him a look. “You already did this for me, you didn’t have to-”

“NO, BUT I WANTED TO.” Pap held your chin and kissed the top of your head. “BESIDES, I MEANT TO GIVE YOU THE SHELF A LONG TIME AGO. THIS OTHER THING IS FOR OUR DATE.”

“Our date?” you asked, blinking as he disappeared again in a puff of brown sugar. You slowly put the book in your hand on the shelf, your brow furrowed as you wondered what he got you. He had mentioned flowers, back when he had first turned down your advances, but where would he get those? Nothing was growing yet on the mountain and you doubted the Underground had florists.

Pap reappeared as you placed another book, a wide grin on his skull and his hands holding something behind his back. He watched you for a moment, his lights shining with anticipation of your reaction, and pulled out a small pot from behind his back. Inside was a softly glowing blue flower, its head about the size of your palm, and you dropped the other book in your hand as your eyes widened.

“What is that?” you asked slowly, wandering over to inspect the tiny plant.

“THEY’RE CALLED ECHO FLOWERS.” Pap explained, handing you the pot to hold. It slooshed in your hands; there was no dirt inside of it. Just a small amount of gravel to hold the plant roots beneath the water. “THEY ONLY GROW IN WATERFALL. THIS ONE IS STILL A SPROUT SO IT CAN ONLY SAY A FEW WORDS. BUT THEY USUALLY GET SEVERAL FEET TALL AND WHEN THEY’RE THAT BIG THEY CAN SAY WHOLE SENTENCES. I THOUGHT YOU MIGHT LIKE ONE SINCE YOU’RE DOING EXPERIMENTS WITH MONSTER PLANTS.”

“It can talk?” You asked, your eyes somehow widening further in astonishment. Pap nodded and gently brushed the head of the flower.

_ “Talk?” _ It whispered, in your voice. You giggled, chastising yourself. You had just met a talking flower monster today. Why were you surprised to find out other monster plants could speak?

“When… how?” You mumbled, unable to speak over the rush of affection you had for him. This was wonderful, and so thoughtful. He was right, having a plant from the Underground would do huge things for your experiments and, you felt heat fill your face, no guy had ever gotten you flowers before. Especially one you could keep alive, unlike cut blooms.

“LAST TIME I WAS IN THE UNDERGROUND PICKING UP RATIONS WITH SANS.” Pap grinned, taking a seat on your bed as he watched you carefully turn the plant and gently tap its head so it spoke to you. “I PICKED ONE UP WHEN WE WERE VISITING UNDYNE. THEY GROW NEAR HER HOUSE, IT WASN’T TOO HARD TO FIND. AND IT WAS EASY TO SMUGGLE OUT SINCE NO ONE WOULD CHECK INSIDE MY CHESTPLATE.”

“You had to smuggle it?” You raised an eyebrow at him as you wandered your room, searching for a place to put the flower. If your little garlic plants were good indicators, the flower would like full sun. You placed it on top of your pine dresser, between two healthy garlic plants.

“THEY’RE UM,” Pap tapped his teeth through his mitten, thinking. “WHAT DID MILORD CALL IT… A CLASS B, NON-TRADABLE GOOD. WE’RE NOT SUPPOSED TO BRING THEM TO THE SURFACE, SO DON’T LET HIM KNOW YOU HAVE IT. AND MAKE SURE YOU WATER IT A LOT. THEY USUALLY GROW IN RIVERS AND I’VE HAD TO WATER IT EVERY DAY SINCE I BROUGHT IT HOME.”

“I’ll take good care of it,” you said, smiling softly as you slowly made your way over to him. You came closer and put your hand on his chest, your smile growing at the orange color rising across his nasal ridge. “I really appreciate this, Pap. Everything we’ve done together. And you being so thoughtful with the shelf and flower.”

“W-WELL, YOU DESERVE SOMEONE THOUGHTFUL,” Pap stammered, falling back onto his elbows as you leaned over him, chasing the kiss he wouldn’t give you. You could feel his breath quicken through the movement of the ribs beneath your fingers.

“You are,” you breathed, starting to climb over his tall frame. “You’re thoughtful and kind and I really like you, you know that?”

“I-I DO,” Pap scooted away, across the bed until his back hit the headboard. He looked at you, his lights wide and hazy and you paused as you saw him start to hyperventilate.

“Am I going too fast?” You asked, your brows furrowed with concern as you paused over his knees. “I just want to kiss you, Pap, I swear. Is that okay?”

“YES, BUT I-” The color deepened on his skull as you moved up a little bit, just until you were hovering over his chest. “BUT I WANT MORE THAN THAT AND I-”

You let out a small giggle as he clamped his jaw shut to cut off the words. “I’m okay with more,” you said softly, trying to reassure him that he had your consent. Now you just wanted his.

“DON’T SAY THAT!” Pap let out a frustrated growl and covered his face with his hands. “YOU’RE ALREADY TEMPTING ENOUGH, HONEY, AND I HAVE NO IDEA WHAT I’M DOING! I’VE NEVER- WITH- I DON’T-”

“Pap, it’s okay,” you said gently, resting a hand on the twin bones of his forearm. “I know you’ve never claimed someone, it’s not a big deal.”

He froze and removed the mitts over his face, his hazy white lights wide with shock. “H-HOW DID YOU…?”

“You told me.” You sat down on his hips, not trying to push him faster than he wanted to go. “I mean, not directly, but you said something that made me think and I kind of put it together from there.”

“AND YOU… DON’T CARE?”

“Not at all,” you shook your head, smiling at him. “Everyone has a first time. I’m actually… really honored to think I might be your first.”

“Y-YOU ARE?” Pap asked, his voice filled with disbelief, and you nodded at him. “BUT WHAT IF… I CAN’T TAKE CARE OF YOU? WHAT IF I CAN’T LAST OR I CAN’T FIND THE RIGHT SPOTS OR-”

“Let me tell you about my first time, then.” You slowly brought his arm towards you and slipped your hands down to hold his. “I had no idea what I was doing, either. My ex and I just kind of… tried and neither of us felt like we did it right. But that’s okay. You learn. You communicate what you like and it gets better. This is your first time and I want to do everything I can to make sure it’s special for you. That way, I’ll be satisfied knowing you had a great time.”

“I... DON’T FEEL RIGHT ABOUT THAT. IF I DON’T TAKE CARE OF YOU, TOO.” Pap’s hand closed over yours. 

“Then lucky for you, I can help us along.” You squeezed his hand and brought the other to hold the side of his skull. “I’ve picked up a few tricks. If you tell me what works for you and let me guide us, I can make sure we both have fun.”

“STILL, WHAT KIND OF ALPHA HAS TO TEACH HER- HER BETA TO PLEASE HER?” Pap looked up at you, unsure if that’s what you wanted of him, and you felt another rush of affection as he let his insecurity show so completely.

“Pap, even if we never claimed one another, I’d still want to mark you as mine,” you said softly, smiling as his lights widened again. “I love you. I want to be with you. The others already approve of us, I’ve just been waiting for you to be ready, too.”

“I LOVE YOU TOO,” Pap mumbled, his lights soft as you inched closer. This time he leaned forward, closing the distance himself. You sighed into him as his hand came up to cup your cheek, pulling you closer as he let you taste him and it took all your self control not to jump him. His other hand left yours to grab at your waist, pulling your body against his chest as his tongue danced with yours, filling your mouth with the warm flavor of brown sugar and making your head spin.

“Are you okay with this?” You breathed, your cheeks warm as Pap broke the kiss to steady himself. He nodded, his skull flushed orange again as his hazed lights looked you over. “Okay, I have an idea of how to start. Do you trust me?”

“COMPLETELY.”

“Okay, good,” you kissed his brow and sat back on his hips, feeling his excitement pressing against you through his jeans. Knowing an open dialogue might help ease his nerves, you told him, “So, to start, I’m going to take care of you first.”

“...WHAT?” Pap’s lights flickered with confusion as you scooted back, your hands slowly trailing down the buttons of his dress shirt and towards his belt.

“If you want to learn, you’ll need to be a bit more calm,” you said, your fingers toying with the brass buckle. “If I take care of you first, then I can show you how to take care of me. Then, when you’re ready again, we can do everything together.”

“ARE YOU SURE?” Pap furrowed his bony brow at you, his hands coming up to hold your shoulders as you slowly undid the belt.

“Of course. I want to do this for you,” you purred, slipping a hand into his jeans to feel that his magic had already taken form. Pap shuddered at the touch and slid down the sheets ever so slightly, making it easier for you to unbutton his jeans and slide them off his pelvis.

It was hard not to stare for more than a moment. His size was proportional to his height and, as you ran your hand down the length, earning another shudder from him, you had to figure out how you were going to do this.

“WHAT ARE YOU-? O-OH S-STARS!” Pap groaned and his skull fell back onto the headboard as you took his member in your mouth, using your hand to stroke what wouldn’t fit. He groaned again and bucked his hips as you worked the length, using your tongue to tease the tip as you bobbed your head.

“Use this,” you instructed, breaking briefly to take his hand and move it to the top of your head, “to show me how fast you want it. Okay?”

Pap nodded, his breathing heavy as you went back to his glowing member. All he did for a while was breathe and squeeze your head through his mitt as you slowly moved your head and hand up and down. You felt a small pulse as you swirled your tongue against the side of his shaft and, finally, you felt him start to guide you.

He moved you faster and faster and it was only quick thinking on your part by sliding your hand up that kept him from accidentally choking you. He groaned again and you heard the back of his skull bang against the headboard as he let it fall back again.

“H-HONEY I’M G-GOING TO-” he managed to get out, warning you about what you could already feel pulsing against your hand and lips. You hummed in affirmation, letting him know you knew and it was okay. He swore under his breath and pulled at your hair, thrusting into your mouth as he peaked and you swallowed every last bit of the sweet spice he gave you.

You surfaced, licking at the corner of your mouth to catch a bit that you missed, and looked him over. Pap was still breathing a bit heavy, his white lights nearly gone in their haze, and he wore a satisfied grin on his skull. You smiled at that look; you did well.

“Do you want a minute to catch your breath?” You asked him. He nodded and you curled up next to him, holding him close as he turned his skull to look at you.

“I’M SORRY I DID THAT. IN YOUR MOUTH.” Pap said softly, his skull flushing orange when you looked up at him.

“Hmm, don’t be,” you hummed, your fingers finding his ribs beneath his shirt and slowly tracing them. “I kind of… like doing that. You taste good,” you added with a mumble, turning red.

Pap gave a short, tired laugh and laid his skull back again. “HONEY, THAT’S… REALLY HOT, ACTUALLY.”

You giggled, your face burning, and Pap turned your chin up to gently kiss you. He rolled onto his side, to pull you in closer by your hips as the sweetness of his tongue chased away the spice lingering on yours. You slid your leg between his, silently encouraging him to move his touch up the slit in your dress to feel your thighs, your backside, or waist. Pap paused, breaking the kiss to stare at your slight movements. His gaze checked your leg, your hands on his shirt as they slowly undid the buttons, and your chest as he studied your soul spot.

“I, UM, NEED A BIT MORE TIME,” he admitted, stopping your hands halfway through the line of buttons in his shirt. You nodded, withdrawing the touch to prop yourself up on your knees.

“Do you want to… explore a bit, then, while you get ready?” you asked, picking up his hand to settle on your waist. You gently guided the touch up your side, watching him as his white lights followed the action. “You can hear what gets me excited, can’t you?”

“YES,” Pap nodded, shifting himself so that he leaned against the headboard again and watched you settle once more onto his pelvis. “BUT I DON’T REALLY KNOW WHAT I’M DOING TO GET YOU LIKE THAT. I DON’T WANT TO GET TOO EXCITED MYSELF BEFORE I LEARN HOW TO TAKE CARE OF YOU.”

You giggled, your cheeks flushing with heat as you remembered how forward he had been with you during your heat. “That’s kind of the point. We should  _ both _ get riled up,” you said, slowly backing off him and off of the bed. You stood there, watching him watch you, and a small idea came to mind. “Do you think I could… try something I’ve never done before?”

“WHAT’S THAT?” Pap mumbled, his lights fixed on you as you slowly turned and unzipped your qi pao. Rather than telling him, you tried to focus on your small strip tease to try and make it enjoyable for him.

You took your time with the zipper, hesitating slightly as you reached your lower back where your scars hid behind the fabric. You shyly glanced at him over your shoulder, wondering if seeing the angry, red marks would be unattractive and a turn off for him. The slack jawed, entranced look he wore as your sleeves fell off your shoulders was all you needed for reassurance that it didn’t matter to him. You smiled, slowly shaking your hips to slide the dress off your body and to the floor.

“I, um, probably could’ve done that a little better, couldn’t I?” You turned, pink in the face, to show him the white bra and stockings you wore beneath. Pap didn’t answer right away. He could only stare, his ribs moving with his breath beneath his half-undone shirt.

“N-NO, THAT WAS…” Pap paused, watching as you slowly crawled back onto the bed and up towards him. He gave a small shiver of excitement, his face flushed orange and his lights hazed once more. “YOU KNOW, WHEN WE FIRST MET,” he said, his gazed fixed on you as you crawled up his chest, moving his hands to encourage his touch, “I NEVER WOULD HAVE GUESSED YOU WERE LIKE THIS. YOU SEEMED SO SHY.”

“And I never would’ve guessed that, for a guy that’s supposedly only been on one date, could so thoroughly sweep me off my feet.”

Pap chuckled nervously, his lights following your hands as you showed him where to touch, where to tease, to fan that spark in your belly into a hot flame of desire. “I-IT’S NOT THAT HARD. YOU’RE VERY SMALL AND LIGHT.”

You giggled, turning pink again as you slipped his hand beneath the cup of your bra, the soft fabric of his mitten catching your sensitivity and coaxing a small moan from you. You reached up behind your back and unhooked it, throwing it off to the side as you chastised yourself for ever putting the thing on. You rarely wore bras, they just got in the way or irritated your scars.

As Pap started to explore you on his own, you closed the distance and caught him for another kiss. His touch became more confident as he understood what you meant, about the change in the sound of your soul over certain spots, and you moaned into him as he kept returning to the sensitivity on your chest.

“C-can we,” you panted, catching one of his mittened hands as it squeezed your backside. “Can we take these off? I have another spot, but it’s hard to get to if you’re wearing something on your hands.”

“I DON’T THINK THAT’S A GOOD IDEA,” Pap furrowed his bony brow, staring at the red fabric. “MY MAGIC’S NOT GOOD FOR YOU, HONEY. I DON’T TO RUIN THIS BY HAVING YOU BREATHE TOO MUCH IN.”

You pouted, the desire in you roaring its craving for more. You bit your lip, not wanting to make him uncomfortable, but needing that touch to take you further. “You’ve stopped it manifesting before,” you said slowly, thinking hard past the fuzziness in your brain. “Back when you were working on that puzzle box I gave you. You were so focused on it that your magic stopped leaking.”

“WELL, YES,” Pap nodded, one hand on your hip as he studied the hand beneath his mitt. “BUT THAT WAS AN ACCIDENT. YOU’RE NOT A PUZZLE BOX, HONEY. I DON’T THINK I COULD GET IT TO STOP ON PURPOSE.”

“What if you thought of me as one?” You asked, turning his hand over as you thought. “Think of… my spots like hidden panels you have to find. And if you solve me right, you’ll get a nice, big reward at the end.”

“I DON’T KNOW…”

“Please?” you leaned in, gently peppering his skull with kisses. “I need that touch. We can start with one and, if it doesn’t stop, I won’t ask again. I’ll even give you a hint where those magic spots are.”

Pap hummed, hesitating. He looked between your half naked body and his hand, his lights flickering thoughtfully. “JUST ONE,” he said slowly. “GIVE ME A SECOND TO SEE IF I CAN CONTROL IT BEFORE I TAKE IT OFF. OTHERWISE YOU’RE GOING TO HAVE TO HOLD YOUR BREATH.”

You nodded eagerly, excited. “There’s two,” you told him, your hand on his wrist to pause him. “Spots, I mean. Between my legs. Outside and inside.”

“HOW AM I SUPPOSED TO DO ANYTHING WITH YOUR STOCKINGS IN THE WAY?”

Grinning mischievously, you leaned in close, balancing yourself with a hand on his chest and a small adjustment of your knees around his pelvis. “I cut a hole in them,” you purred to the side of his skull, feeling proud of yourself that you had the foresight and a pair of scissors. Pap shivered beneath you, his hands holding your waist as you found his neck vertebrae and gently nipped at them. If he needed a moment before he teased you, that was fine, but you were going to show him that you knew spots for him, too.

He returned to exploring you, already able to find those caresses you liked with ease. A gentle squeeze at your chest, a hand running down your side. His thumb giving just the smallest pressure to the inside of your thigh as he ran his hand up your stockings. You let out a small moan, your knees shaking and your want burning as he refused to touch the wetness between your legs just yet. It was driving you insane. You caught his mouth, unable to take the wait for much longer, and wrestled with his tongue. There was no light at his hips, yet, but your hand fell and you gently caressed the wing of his pelvis to help it along. Pap shuttered beneath you, a small groan escaping him. You felt his touch withdraw for a moment before finally, blissfully, he found that burning want between your legs.

You tried to hold your breath, like he had told you to do when you felt the hard bone of his fingertips. But when he found that nub above your entrance you couldn’t help but give a small cry of delight. Pap turned your face back towards his, drowning your noise with the taste of brown sugar. The darkening room filled with a soft orange glow as his magic started to gather again. 

Too soon, he dropped the touch and pulled you onto his hips, slowly grinding them against yours. You moaned again, feeling him slide against you, tantalizingly close. Pap picked you up and laid you on your back over the sheets, his breath heavy as he crawled over you and started to bite at your neck.

“H-HONEY,” he panted, his bare hand finding your want again and gently teasing it. You moaned and lifted your hips up into the touch, earning a small shudder of excitement from him in return. “HOW MUCH MORE DO YOU WANT? YOUR SONG IS DRIVING ME CRAZY AND I NEED YOU SO BAD…”

“Now is good,” you nodded, breathless, and quickly started undoing the last of his buttons. You noticed, as he stood up on the floor to slide his jeans the rest of the way off, that he didn’t have either of his mittens on. Whatever mental trick he found to stop his magic leaking had worked.

He looked over you as you lay back on the bed, waiting for him. The lights of his eyes were nearly gone in their haze. The tip of his orange tongue darted out to lick at his teeth and his hands clenched and unclenched as he thought. With a squeak of surprise, you felt him grab your legs and pull you towards the edge of the bed until your hips were hanging off.

Pap knelt down on the floor and your hips were perfectly aligned with each other. He leaned over, cupping the back of your head so he could bring you up and kiss you. Now you understood what he was doing. He was so tall, he couldn’t do both if he was lying on top of you. You grabbed his ribs and pulled him close, needing every sweet taste his tongue could give you, when you felt his member press against your wet entrance. You whined into him at the same time he groaned into you, his skull falling to rest his brow against your neck.

“G-GIVE ME A SECOND,” he panted, stopping his hips after he had pushed all the way inside you. “YOU’RE TOO WET AND WARM AND YOU’RE SQUEEZING ME TOO TIGHT.”

You nodded, needing the same to get used to his size. You turned his face towards yours, to reassure him that it was okay with a gentle kiss. He sighed into you, one of his bare hands hooking under your waist to pull you close while he propped himself up with the other elbow. You caught each other's gaze and he gave you a small tilt of his skull as he panted, questioning, and you nodded again. He slowly started to move his hips and he shuddered again, his face returning to your neck as he panted.

“S-STARS YOU FEEL SO GOOD,” he breathed, nipping at your soft spot until you moaned for him.

“T-take your time,” you said quietly, holding him close to you as he moved. “It’s n-not a race. Angle your hips…”

He did as you instructed, his pelvis tilting as he tried different ways, until he hit that spot inside and you moaned, your nails digging into his shoulder blades. He peeked at you from your neck, his hazed white lights studying your reaction, and did it again. “Th-there,” you mumbled, just in case he didn’t get the hint.

He started to move faster and you wrapped your legs around him, helping him keep a steady rhythm as that heat started to build in your belly. The first eager slam of his took you by surprise. It moved your entire bed across the floor by several inches and you clung to him, feeling his heavy pants as he tried to keep himself from going too fast, too soon. You took the hand he had around your waist and moved it, showing him to tease that spot above your entrance to help move you along.

“P-pap!” You moaned, throwing your head back against the sheet as he listened to your silent instruction. It was so good, the heat and electricity dancing in your veins and building as he went faster still. He caught your lips, to keep your cries from filling your room. Your legs started to shake as you neared your peak. He went to your neck and bit you, hard, on your soft spot to stifle his own moan. The bite pushed you over the edge and you cried out his name, raking your nails over his spine as he slammed into you again and again, filling you with his warmth.

A small whine escaped you as he pulled out and collapsed beside you. He got up onto his elbow, his white lights sharpening out of their haze as he looked you over.

“I DIDN’T HURT YOU, DID I?”

“Not at all,” you smiled, still breathless. “I thought you did great. Did you have fun, too?”

Pap chuckled and pulled you further up on the bed to curl up at your side. “HONEY, I COULD LIVE FOR A THOUSAND YEARS AND I’D NEVER, EVER FORGET TONIGHT. IT WAS ALMOST PERFECT.”

“Almost?” you sat up, your brow furrowed. Did you do something wrong? It was his first time, if you missed something it wasn’t like you could go back.

“WELL, YOU KNOW HOW I SAID I WANTED TO DATE YOU BEFORE A MARK?” Pap asked sheepishly, an orange flush rising on his nasal ridge. “WOULD IT BE TOO SOON IF I ASKED AFTER ONLY ONE?”

You smiled, your cheeks pink, and shook your head. You quietly asked for his consent and explained the three rules you expected your betas to follow, along with a promise that you would call a pack meeting so he could officially meet the others and be welcomed in. 

A part of you wondered how that would go. Milord’s increasing jealousy worried you and Axe wouldn’t speak to you right now, so the meeting would have to wait, but they couldn’t be angry that you wanted to mark Pap now. The pack had already given their approval. You thought about waiting, but you loved Pap. He was a rock to you, just like Mutt could be, and you needed someone like that in your life now more than ever.

You told him about where you liked to mark, asking for his consent once more, before you took his collarbone between your teeth and bit down as hard as you could. He winced at the pain of it and you apologized quickly before he scooped you up into his arms.

“NOW IT’S PERFECT,” he hummed, nuzzling the top of your head as he pulled your sheets over your bare bodies.


	30. Ch 28 - Breaching the Subject

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Holy shit! A new chapter! :D 
> 
> I hope you all enjoy as the plot thickens.
> 
> Also, I've thought about doing another TeaTime since we're moving along so far... would this be something y'all are interested in? Let me know in the comments! ^-^
> 
> And as always, thank you for reading <3

Ch 28 - Breaching the Subject

A soft tapping and a light-hearted trill woke you. You sat up, blinking sleepily at the small, dark shapes fluttering around your window. You stared, your dream still pulling at your eyelids, though you couldn’t remember what it was. Something to do with rivers of honey and giant ravens?

One of the small shapes outside, a bird of bright yellow with streaks of black, alighted on your windowsill to peck at the small bugs that scurried across the damp wood. At your side, Pap rolled onto his back and pulled you on top of him, nuzzling your cheek and holding you gently.

“GOOD MORNING, MY ALPHA,” he mumbled, a sleepy grin on his skull.

“Morning, Pap,” you yawned back, wondering about the time while glancing at the start of a pink and blue sunrise over the forest. You almost couldn’t remember the last time you were woken up by birdsong. “We have finches.”

“I THOUGHT THAT WAS JUST YOU.” Pap matched your yawn and rolled back onto his side, taking you with him. He curled up around you, the soft touch of his red mitts sliding across your bare stomach, and buried his face in your hair. “LET’S GO BACK TO SLEEP, HONEY. THE SUN’S NOT ALL THE WAY UP YET.”

You nodded and shimmied closer to his warm frame. Sleep sounded lovely, especially since his presence made you feel safe, but the birdsong and the steadily rising sun kept sleep away.

You laid in bed for a while, watching the shadows move across your wall, just enjoying the relative quiet of the morning and Pap’s presence. Unbidden by you, thoughts slowly started to creep into your calm mind about the upcoming week. Your midterms. The yardwork you still had to do, your plans for a garden, and not to mention all the things with the guys you wanted to take care of before studies overwhelmed you. A small sigh escaped you and you slowly sat up, trying to not wake Pap up again.

As you rubbed the sleep from your eyes, you contemplated these busy thoughts. You needed to take care of your mental health. The list of what you needed to do could go on and on. What could you do today to make it easier for yourself? How should you approach this so you didn’t hear that song again or see visions? You couldn’t neglect school, but the guys made it clear already that they were okay with giving you alone time to study. Working outside would be fine if you could talk one of them into keeping you company. 

That just left today to take care of other things. You slipped out of bed and pulled your dark green sundress with the stitched poppies from the clothes pile on the floor. As you pulled out a pair of clean, black thigh-high socks, you looked around your messy room and decided to clean up. It would be easy to start with putting your clothes away. But first, you reminded yourself, you had to shower. 

You returned upstairs with your duffel bag, your hair in a wet braid that chilled the back of your neck, to start on cleaning your room. Mutt had left your duffel bag in your bathroom, filled with cleaned clothes. You knew this because there was a note tucked into one of the pockets in his slanted writing. It was short, just a small written hope that your date with Pap and the talk with Red went well. (He assumed that it all did, since you and Pap had kept to yourselves and Red’s hoodie was in your laundry.) It was signed with his love and a wish to see you after he stopped being busy with work. You started to put everything away with a warm feeling in your chest. At least it sounded like Mutt was excited for a new member of the pack. 

It was as you were putting Pap’s folded clothes at the end of the mattress that you stepped on something hard and pointy beneath the bed. You bit your tongue, hard, to keep the curses inside as you scooped the object up off the floor. Red’s old collar stared up at you, the gold of the spikes winking at you in the rays of the rising sun. You immediately held it to your chest and glanced at Pap to check that he was still asleep. Thankfully, he slept on.

The collar found a new home inside a drawer of your pine dresser and you moved on to your stacks of books. A slew of internal thoughts chastised you for not putting the collar away. What if Pap had found it? How would you explain that without revealing anything about Red? He had asked you to promise to never tell anyone about his past. You couldn’t break that.

A sigh escaped you as you slid the last stray book onto the cherrywood shelves and looked around the floor. Your physiology book was still missing. Milord had asked about borrowing it yesterday; had he taken it to read during his time off? That time was supposed to be used for him to unwind. Or did he genuinely find enjoyment in reading a textbook?

You chuckled to yourself. He would be literally the only person you knew that would have fun with something so dry, but you could see that happening. If he liked to read, maybe you should pick him up something a bit more entertaining. What would a guy like him like? Something complicated, since he was so intelligent, or would he prefer something that didn’t make him think too much if he wanted to unwind?

As you thought about this potential gift, your eyes wandered to the large, plastic case leaning in the corner of your room. Guilt bubbled up in your gut as you remembered how long you had been intending to give that to Red. Today had to be the day. You had already agreed to give it to him in exchange for his collar. You couldn’t put it off any more.

Holding Red’s hoodie under your arm, you picked up the case and quietly brought it down from your room and to your bathroom. Red wouldn’t be awake for a while yet and he wouldn’t be happy if you woke him up. But you had something else you wanted to do, too, and so you left the case and hoodie leaning against the bathroom sink while you ventured down the long, second story hall.

You stood in front of the third door from the far left, glancing towards the end of the hall at Butch’s room. He had wanted to talk to you, you hadn’t forgotten, but he wasn’t up yet, either. Maybe he could help you talk to Axe, too. The wait for him to come to you hurt.

You knocked gently on Milord’s door. It was still too early for him to come down for coffee, but you knew he was at least out of the shower since the other bathroom door was open and the mirror was full of steam.

There was a long pause after your knock while you listened. Anxiety crept into you as you wondered if he was still angry with you, if he would avoid you again. When the door’s lock clicked open and the smell of frost tickled your nose, you breathed a sigh of relief. You slowly pushed the door open a crack to peek inside.

“Milord?” you asked, your voice small, as you poked your head in. He was already fully dressed and at his desk. He glanced over his shoulder at you before returning to the sheaf of paper he shuffled through.

“Whatever it is, make it brief.” He said coolly to you, without turning around from his seat in his swivel chair. “I’ve been given an order of summons to the Underground and I cannot be delayed.”

You slipped into his room and shut the door behind you. He must’ve been up for some time already. His bed was made and there were half a dozen folders laid neatly out on the dark sheets, stuffed full with papers. “I just… wanted to talk about yesterday.”

“You have five minutes.”

The ice in his voice hit you like a slap. He was still angry, alright. But he was willing to talk to you. You took a tentative step towards him and picked nervously at the stitched poppies of your dress.

“I’m sorry,” you said softly, staring at the floor. “I know I messed up by not talking to you about what I was thinking regarding Red. I know you were just looking out for me.”

“That hardly does us any good now, does it?” Milord said coolly, his focus still on the papers on his desk. “You have already made your decision and your apology does not change the situation you have created.”

“Still, I-”

“What does it matter?” Milord’s chair turned so he could glare at you over his shoulder. “I have given you what you wanted. Unless you have decided to indulge me on why I am blindly placing trust in a criminal, then an expression of regret has little merit.”

“I can’t, I promised him-”

“Of course you did.” Milord threw up one of his hands in an exasperated way before turning back to the desk. “I assume it had never occurred to you that it would be wise to confirm his story, to cross reference his statements with cold, hard facts?”

The verbal blow hit you like an icy snowball to the chest. No, it hadn’t occurred to you to do that, because you had wanted to trust Red. Everything had made sense to you, it lined up with what little Mutt and Edge told you and explained aspects of Red’s personality. Even though Red made you promise before he told you everything, you had still wanted to believe he was a good person. But for Milord, who had overwhelming evidence that Red wasn’t a good person...

“You’re right.” you said quietly. Milord’s hand paused as he signed something and he turned to watch you out of the corner of his socket, his purple lights focused on your face. You held his gaze, understanding that the only way to pacify him, even slightly, was to show him you were willing to be skeptical. You might trust Red, but Milord sure as hell didn’t unless you could prove he should in his way. “I can’t tell you what he said to me, but I’ll make sure everything he said adds up. Does… the Underground have public records? You know, old newspapers or articles I could look through?”

“...no.” He huffed, turning back to his documents as his pen flew across the page.

“What about records of tip offs to the Guard? Or does that depend on which District it happened in?”

Milord rose from his chair to gather papers off his desk and stuffed them into yet another manilla folder. “All documentation has limited access and anything deemed sensitive in nature by the Court is under higher restriction. Those in the Guard have privilege fitting their rank to examine such files only for investigative purposes.”

“Then how am I supposed to cross check anything?”

“Now you fully appreciate the verbal bind you have tied yourself in.” Milord sighed, his lights flat as he passed you to gather all the paperwork from his bed. “Had you not made a promise to restrict yourself, I would have been able to use my status to look into his statement for you. You know very well that I am under obligation to protect the Underground’s information and you already know far too much.”

You nodded, remembering how difficult it had been for Milord to tell you about Ferals. He had also been reluctant to share what he knew about Red, despite giving you that information anyway. He had been that scared for you.

“The only things I need to look into,” you said slowly, trying to think carefully. He was in a hurry and you couldn’t drag out any request. “Are the history of a fuku monster named Garamond, the statistics of different crime rates starting with the years he lived up to the present day, and the uses for gold. Real gold, not the pyrite that the Underground uses for currency.”

Milord turned towards you, one of his arms filled with files, and quirked a bony brow at you. “I can understand the statistics, but why inquire about a long dead monster and gold? Nevermind,” he said quickly and waved the thought away. His brow furrowed as he double checked his folders and the papers inside them. “I will ponder it later. As for you-” He closed the space between you in a few clipped steps, turned your chin, and quickly kissed you. “-stay in my room until I leave. I must wake Edge and he is never… pleasant when disturbed. Do not touch my files; do not do anything stupid while I’m gone.”

You stood there, frozen with your eyes wide, as you watched Milord rush out of his door. In his hurry he had left it cracked open and you took a step towards it, still processing the fact that he had kissed you. Did that mean he wasn’t upset with you still? Maybe he had been, or maybe his icy demeanor was because he had been called into work. What was so important that the Queens would summon the Captain? They were the only ones powerful enough to order him around, if you understood the hierarchy right.

The rapid knock on Edge’s door drifted down the hall. You hid behind Milord’s door, closing it until you could barely see out. Should you be listening? 

“YOU REALIZE,” Edge’s sharp growl carried to you. The hair on the back of your neck rose as you heard the subdued fury in his voice. “THAT IF I HAD BEEN ASLEEP, YOU WOULD BE DUST?”

“Save your splenetic demeanor,” Milord’s icy tone countered. “Make yourself presentable and meet me at the ferry in five minutes to be briefed.”

“I FINISHED MY SHIFT!” Edge snapped. “WHY THE FUCK DO I NEED TO GO BACK IN?”

Milord’s voice was so quiet you almost didn’t catch his next words. He must’ve thought you’d be listening. “There has been a breach. You know perfectly well I would not summon you if I did not require your specific skill set. Five minutes. Do  _ not _ keep me waiting, Edge.”

Judging by the irritated huff and stomping down the hall, Milord had vanished from the house and had left Edge to get ready. Your theory was confirmed as you saw Edge, dressed only in black silk pants, enter the bathroom across from Milord’s room. He stuck his skull into the shower and turned on a blast of what you could only guess was cold water to wake himself up. 

“DAMMIT!” He swore loudly, wiping the water off his face and bare ribs with a white towel. “STUPID, FUCKING… GET SOME OTHER DAMN-! WHAT THE HELL DO THEY HAVE THAT BITCH UNDYING FOR?”

Black plasma and the smell of gasoline tickled your nose as Edge stomped back to his room and slammed the door, clearly furious about having to go back into work. You slowly stepped out into the hall, feeling sure that he would teleport from his room to this ferry Milord had told him to meet him at. 

Halfway down the hall, you saw the knob to Edge’s room turn as he wrenched his door back open. Your heart leapt into your throat and you fumbled with the door closest to you, slipping inside of the dark to hide from him as he stormed past and back to the other bathroom. He had dressed quickly, you saw from the slim crack in the door you hid behind. He had on his black jeans and turtleneck, both of his studded belts and his red leather boots and gloves, but he was missing his red scarf. That explained why he was turning the bathroom upside down.

You pulled the door close with a quiet click, shutting out Edge’s angry mutters and swears. He might be slightly warmer towards you, but you knew better than to get in his way when he was this agitated.

You turned on the spot to lean your back against the closed door, your eyes straining against the absolute darkness of the room you hid in. There was a muffled tinkling of glass breaking, a loud swear from Edge, then silence. You bit your lip, unsure if he had left or not, and decided to wait a little while longer.

Slowly, you slid down the door until you were sitting on the floor, your knees drawn up to your chest. Your heart rate had calmed somewhat as you realized from the lack of any light (beside the faint strip beneath the door) that you were in Sans’ room. Now that it was quiet, you could hear his shallow breathing through the dark and knowing he was there, just a few feet away, further reassured you.

What did that mean, a breach? You found yourself anxiously thinking, your fingers finding the hem of your dress to pick at. You couldn’t help but think of movies you had watched that had used the same words. The military trying to contain an outbreak of zombies, or a laboratory trying to contain an experiment gone wrong. But those were just movies, you told yourself. This was real.

What kind of skills did Edge have that no one else had, if Milord wanted him specifically? You knew he was powerful, but that couldn’t be his only skill.

Could it be something with the monster population? Sans had once mentioned a civil war, what if the Underground was in revolt? What if some Ferals had attacked one of the Districts, or, stars forbid, something happened with the human populace? What if humans were trying to force their way beneath the mountain and the Underground used that as a reason to declare war?

“Sans?” you mumbled softly, unable to take the ideas your imagination gave you. Each thought was worse than the last, but there was one person who could reassure you. Someone who had lived through this time before and remembered it.

You crawled across the floor, your hands searching past the garbage on the ground for the bare mattress Sans slept on. A bag of chips crumpled beneath your touch, an empty can rolled away with a tinny echo, and then you found the blanket he had kicked onto the floor. You heard Sans murmur in his sleep and the springs creaked slightly as he rolled restlessly.

The side of your palm found the corner of the box spring and you pulled yourself up onto the bed. You reached out, searching for a part of him, quietly asking though the dark, “Sans? I’m sorry I didn’t knock, but I need-”

You touched bone and Sans jerked awake. You fell back onto the floor, the blue glow of his magic blinding you, and threw your arms up to protect yourself from the wall of bones he had summoned to push you away. You gasped in surprise, your heart hammering in your chest once again as you nearly choked on the air saturated with the smell of damp wood.

“for fuck’s sake, kid,” Sans’ low tone thrummed with anger. He sat up, banished the summons with a wave of his hand, and plunged the room back into darkness. “there’s a ‘closed door’ rule for a reason! and if it’s locked you don’t pick it-”

“I-I didn’t pick it,” you stammered and sat up, a crushed can clinging to your back, still shaking slightly from the sudden defensive use of his magic. “I’m sorry, Sans, I didn’t mean to scare you…”

The white lights of his eyes sparked with agitation and floated towards you as he moved. You felt him grab onto your forearm and haul you to your feet. He roughly swiped the garbage off your back and you saw him pause, the light of his eyes illuminating his bony wrist and the thin bracelet he focused on.

“I’m sorry too, Thyme,” he mumbled, gently guiding you onto the bed and checking you over. “I was having a nightmare and I thought you were…” he trailed off, his lights focusing on your face. “you’re not hurt, are you?”

“I’m fine,” you said, offering him a nervous smile. Your tailbone might be bruised from crushing a can with your backside, but that was nothing. “The magic just caught me by surprise. Are you okay?”

“yeah…” Sans sighed and summoned a ball of blue plasma into his palm so you could see. He ran his other hand over the top of his skull, his brow furrowed as he thought. “it’s... it’ll be easier to explain later. don’t worry about it.”

“Were you dreaming about Wings again?” you asked quietly. 

“...I wish,” Sans sighed and shook his skull. “so, why’d you come wake me up? did I sleep through dinner or something?”

“No, it’s still really early,” you said, feeling upset with yourself for bothering him.

But that feeling didn’t chase your worry away, and so you told him why you were in his room. That Milord had gotten called in to the Underground and took Edge with him. You told Sans about the few words you overheard and admitted your worry over what a ‘breach’ could mean.

“-and I’m sorry I woke you, I’m just worried about them,” You said, your hands picking at the sock material on the bottom of your foot. “I didn’t know if you might’ve seen something from the other timelines. If this… is something big.”

Sans hummed thoughtfully. He folded his arms over his chest and the ball of blue plasma bobbed in the air between you, trailing the scent of his magic as it drifted lazily through the air. “well... it’s not a good thing,” he said slowly, scratching at the side of his jaw. “I’ve never seen anything happen to us from a breach before, but with the abnormalities in this timeline I can’t guarantee it’s impossible. but based off what I know,” Sans pressed, keeping you from interrupting, “it’s nothing to worry about. breaches happen every now and then but the Guard always contains it. Milord is overly cautious; he plans for every eventuality he can see and he’s a master strategist. if he’s bringing Edge along then my guess is that this breach is in District 4.”

“Why District 4?” you asked, hanging onto Sans’ every word.

“that’s where they keep the Ferals. or send anyone suspected of turning.” Sans shrugged. “you’re right about your guess, though. Edge has specialized skills the other members of the Guard don’t have: he can take shortcuts like the rest of his brothers and he was trained as an exterminator. when you’re in a place like The Ruins, those skills can save your life. It also helps that he’s a one man army and can fight off anything that’s thrown at him.”

Your brows furrowed as you tried to remember anything you knew about District 4. From what Butch told you, it was a desolate place, full of starving monsters and few resources. “Why would they send Ferals to a single District if they’re dangerous to the monsters around them?”

“Queen Slians,” Sans said simply. “she wants to believe that there’s a cure for Feralism that we just haven’t discovered yet, so when the other Districts have citizens that are close to turning she takes them in to keep the main populace safe. The Ruins are a maze; the perfect place to hold sick souls and keep them contained. the whole place was pretty much devastated after the first Human War, but the city walls are still standing tall and strong and there’s only one way in or out. unless, of course, you’re a skeleton and you know where to go.”

“But you said that… Edge was trained as an exterminator?” you said, feeling chills run down your spine as you said those words. A feeling of foreboding filled you at the look on Sans’ skull.

“Ferals don’t just happen in The Ruins,” he said quietly, his low voice heavy. “it can happen to any monster in any District. Edge is part of a small team that’s trained to deal with monsters gone mad. Slians won’t allow them to be killed senselessly in her District, but the other Queens know that Ferals can’t be allowed to run rampant and they’re incredibly dangerous. they’re relentless and given the chance will target high concentrations of magic like cities. they have no remorse or fear and they don’t hold back at all when they attack. they’ll kill and devour anything that has magic and they don’t respond to pain like you and me. if they leave The Ruins, they have to be turned to dust.”

“So Queen Slians locks them behind the walls?” you asked, earning a confirming nod from Sans. “But what about the other people in the District? The ones that haven’t turned Feral?”

“there isn’t much of a population left there, to be honest.” Sans sighed and leaned back slightly, bracing himself on the mattress with his hands. “before the Human War, that was our main city. after it was bombed and countless monsters lost their lives, no one really wanted to live there anymore. things barely grow there and the air just feels heavy with loss. we have long memories, Thyme. even those of us who never lived to see the War don’t like being in that place. monsters still live there, don’t get me wrong, but they’re usually the ones that have nothing left to lose and seek out Slians’ mercy. not just the ones who fear being dusted for showing signs of becoming Feral, but criminals, too.”

You nodded slowly, remembering Red telling you his regret for not taking Edge and running to another District. Did he mean The Ruins? That he would rely on Slians, who sounded like the more benevolent of the Queens, to grant him sanctuary after the things he had done? “But then, why Edge? If there’s a whole team, why… why couldn’t they have someone else?” you asked, recalling the name ‘Undying’ that Edge had practically sworn out in the bathroom.

“because Edge can take shortcuts.” Sans patiently explained. “our family can use our magic to visit any place we’ve been before. The Ruins are a maze. if you get lost, chances are slim that you’ll find your way back out. but Edge, having already been outside, can simply step through the Void and reappear outside the walls if he gets lost or gets surrounded.”

“But if Ferals are relentless, why don’t they just climb over the walls?” you said slowly, the wheels in your head turning. “And Butch and Axe used to live there. Why didn’t they just leave for a better District if they could just teleport out?”

“you can’t just climb over those walls.” Sans yawned. “they were made to protect us, they’re filled with Old Magic cast by the mother of the Queens. anything with LOVE or EXP is prevented from climbing in or out. the only way to pass into the city is through the main gate, which still stands and lacks the protective spell, but if it’s locked from the inside nothing can get in. which would mean if my guess is right, then the Ferals have eliminated the Guardsmen posted at the gate and broken though. there’s no other way since all Ferals have some level of LOVE or EXP in their souls. as for Axe and Butch… I already mentioned that we can’t shortcut to a place we’ve never been. it’s far too dangerous. we could easily kill ourselves if we misjudge the distance or we could get lost in the Void.”

“If teleporting is that dangerous, why do it at all?” you asked, your hands clenching tightly around your ankles.

“as long as you can see your path, you don’t fear to walk it, right?” Sans gave you a small grin. “our magic lets us access the Void and a single step can take us any distance on the plane of light so long as we pay the magic required to do so. this is why it’s so important for us to know where we’re going. if I tried to say, step through the Void into the kitchen, but I had no idea where the kitchen was, I could misstep and reappear inside the wall or the floor and be crushed once matter catches up to my body. if I miss this plane entirely, I could fall into the Void and the amount of magic I might have to use to get out could cost me my life.”

“Then… how did you guys learn how to do it in the first place?”

“well, Wings taught me and I taught Papyrus. as for the others… they probably discovered it on accident.” Sans said, a lazy smirk on his face. “that’s how I discovered my soul sight and how Pap learned how to heal. the magic in our souls relies on our physical forms to keep it safe. it warns us when we’re about to use it in a way that could kill ourselves, but it also wants to be used. kind of like… when you're angry no one really has to teach you how to throw a punch but if you do it wrong you could hurt yourself. sure, you can have someone show you a better way to do it, but you just kind of instinctively know what you need to do and if you practice you get better at it.”

You nodded, thinking about when humans would have subconscious reactions about whether or not to do something and how, more often than not, it saved their life. Like how people would naturally hold their breath when under water, or to avoid certain animals, like spiders or snakes, because of primal instinct. What Sans was talking about had to be something similar.

“that all makes sense?” Sans asked, searching your face. You looked up and noticed the slight fog to his lights and felt guilty for waking him up. His gaze fell and focused on your chest, noticing the noise from that emotion, and you crossed your arms in an attempt to hide it. 

“I’m sorry I woke you up,” you mumbled. “Thanks for explaining all that to me. ...and you’re sure Milord and Edge will be okay?

“hey, I get why you’re worried, but don’t be.” Sans tilted your chin up and offered a tired smile. “Milord has the entirety of the Guard at his command and Edge is a specialist. they’ve dealt with this kind of thing before. they might be gone a day or two, but they’ll be fine.”

Despite not being able to banish your worry completely, you nodded. Sans’ guesses were nearly always right. Even when they weren’t spot on, they were always so close it was almost unnerving. He was right. Milord was brilliant and you knew he was a competent Captain solely from the amount of medals on his wall. Everyone was always talking about how strong Edge was, and if he had special training he could more than handle himself if he followed Milord’s direction. They should be fine if they looked out for each other. Still, you wouldn’t feel at ease until they were back home. “What about you?” you asked quietly. “Are you okay after your nightmare?”

“if you want to keep me from having another one, you could stay until I fall back asleep?” Sans grinned and gently took your arm, pulling you forward as he fell back so you could lie next to him. “kind of hard to relive the past when I have the present right here.”

“You don’t want to talk about it?” you asked, watching him close his sockets while the blue orb of his magic drifted over your heads.

“nah. I’m too tired.” Sans yawned, as if demonstrating how exhausted he felt. He nuzzled his face into your chest, causing your cheeks to turn pink when he grinned against your breasts. “besides, this is all I need right here.”

~~~

The door clicked softly shut as you left Sans’ room. It hadn’t taken him long to fall back asleep and you had wanted to stay with him, to make sure he didn’t have another nightmare more than anything, but it was hard to lay motionless in the dark with your thoughts. You had to do something to keep your mind from worrying about the breach. You had to deal with some of your stressors, mainly finding a way to talk to Axe today, before your looming midterms took up most of your time. 

As you wandered down the length of the hall, to gently knock on Butch and Axe’s door, the thought occurred to you that, if you wanted to make peace with Axe, it might help to bring him an offering. He had warmed up to you so quickly after you first met and you kept your promise about bringing cupcakes. You knew his favorite was cinnamon rolls, would he be willing to talk if you brought him a fresh plate? 

You glanced out of the window at the end of the hall, surveying the long shadows of the trees on the ground. It was only just past sunrise, neither Axe nor Butch would be awake yet. With a plan for the day slowly falling into place in your mind, you turned around once again towards your bathroom.

There was no way Red would be up this early, you told yourself as you stuffed his hoodie under your arm and picked up the giant, plastic case. You thought about sneaking in his room and leaving the case and hoodie for him to find before you recalled the mention Sans gave you: of a ‘closed door’ rule. The thought made you pause in front of Red’s room. Why would a bunch of guys who could teleport anywhere need a rule like that?

You nearly kicked yourself with how obvious the explanation was. They could teleport anywhere they had been. How would they ever have privacy if they didn’t agree to respect a closed door? No one had ever told you this rule, but you had been taught growing up that it was rude to enter without knocking and being invited in. They had never needed to tell you and you didn’t want to live up to Flowey’s nickname for you.

“Red?” you said, gently kicking at his door since both of your hands held the giant case. Unless it was absolutely necessary, you weren’t going to just barge right in. “Wake up! I have something for you!”

The door muffled his irritated grumbles, but you couldn’t help bouncing on the soles of your feet in excitement. You needed something to make you smile today and couldn’t wait to give him this gift. The thought of the look on his skull already had you grinning. Should you get more gifts for the other brothers? You knew you needed to save up for a car, but the idea of shopping for the guys made you giddy. None of them could be jealous of Red’s gift if you had gotten some for them, too, and you wouldn’t have to explain the trade either. Having a day out on the town would be a nice way to unwind during midterm week. Maybe you could invite Abby along?

“...wut?” Red cracked open his door, a scowl on his skull below his foggy, crimson eye lights. You peeked out from behind the plastic case and grinned broadly at his look of sleepy confusion as he examined the case.

“I promised you a trade, didn’t I?” you said, shimmying your way into his room as he stepped aside for you. His hoodie slipped from beneath your arm and landed on the hardwood floor with a heavy thump and Red stared at it, looking more confused than before. “I got mud all over your hoodie, sorry,” you explained as you laid the case at the foot of his mattress. “I didn’t want to give it back to you like that.”

“‘s whatever,” Red shrugged, rubbing at his socket as he threw his hoodie onto his mattress. He quickly followed it, flopping onto his bed with a small bounce and pulling the hoodie over his skull.

“Don’t go back to sleep!” you pouted, pulling at his ankle and earning a growl from him. “I want to see your face when you open this!”

“it ain’t gonna grow legs,” Red waved your hand away. “so shut th’ fuck up ‘n let me sleep.”

“Come on, please?” you gently shook his shoulders and he growled again, rolling away from you. You sighed and looked around his empty room, the slight hope you had for company deflating. “How come you haven’t put up your posters yet?” you asked, looking at the rolled up pile in the corner and hoping that a conversation might wake him a bit more. 

“brick.” Red grunted, his rough voice muffled as he rolled onto his belly. “‘n Pap gets bitchy if I put holes in th’ wall.”

“We don’t have to use nails,” you examined the smooth, white walls, guessing that there had to be a layer of drywall covering the brick foundation. “Sans has tape, we could ask to use some and-”

“I ain’t askin’ him fer shit,” Red grumbled irritably, lifting his skull to glare at you beneath his hoodie. “go th’ fuck back teh sleep, Doll.”

“You don’t have to ask Sans, I will,” you purred, crawling onto the mattress and beneath the hoodie to join him. Red turned his narrowed lights on you, grumbling under his breath while you trailed your fingers over his ribs to coax him awake. He shuddered at the gentle touch and you kissed the side of his jaw. “If you open the case, I’ll let you go back to sleep.”

Red glared at you, reached out, and popped one of the locks on the case open. “there. open.” and then he promptly rolled over again to ignore you.

You sat up and pouted, your arms folded over your chest as you watched Red curl up cat-like under his hoodie to fall back asleep. Slowly, a mischievous grin spread across your face as you thought of an idea to have fun. “Jeez, you really aren’t a morning person are you?” You leaned over his side, making sure to squish your chest against the flat of his back as you hovered over his vertebrae, letting your breath from your next words warm the bones just above the lining of his turtleneck. “I guess I’ll let you sleep, then.”

You kissed the side of his jaw and felt his skull heat up against your lips. You quickly jumped away, giggling manically, as he grabbed at you and missed your arm by a hair’s breadth.

“yer some kinda fuckin’ evil, know that?” he grumbled, sitting up and rubbing the spot where you had kissed him. Your giggling doubled, to the point you had to cover your mouth, as he flushed a deeper crimson.

“What are you talking about?” you said though a stifled giggle, a broad smile on your face at his irritated scowl. “I just wanted to give you some affection before I went about my day.”

Red’s hand darted out towards you, his finger slipping into the space between your breasts and hooking the material of your dress as he pulled you in close. “ _ liar. _ ” he hissed through sharp teeth, his breath hot on your face and his nasal cavity brushing against the tip of your nose. You froze, a chill running down your spine as you wondered if you had pushed Red too far for it being this early in the morning.

His foggy (or hazy?) crimson lights darted towards your chest and he released you, but not without his sharp fingertip catching your dress and ripping a small tear in it. You fell back onto your butt, your eyes wide with surprise as he smirked at you.

“‘n what did we learn, Doll?” he purred, his gravelly voice sending another chill through you.

“To, um… not fuck with Red this early?”

“‘s right.” Red nodded and sat cross legged, rubbing at his socket with the heel of his palm. “so th’ fuck’s so important yeh woke me up at th’ ass crack of dawn?”

You quietly gestured at the case again, your eyes darting over his frame to study his body language. His shoulders were relaxed and despite his usual scowl, he looked curious about what you brought. He wasn’t angry.

“I didn’t want to keep you waiting,” you mumbled, feeling guilt rise up again as you thought about how long you had kept the gift for. Red’s crimson lights darted towards you and you spoke quickly, to cover up the sound of your soul, “I mean, I… kind of wanted to give it to you for awhile, but I never found the right time and I didn’t want to just hold onto it, you know?”

“‘n what were yeh gonna ask fer?” Red rolled his lights and grabbed the handle of the case to pull his closer, his other hand flipping the second lock open. “I told yeh before, I ain’t got shit teh trade.”

“I know,” you smiled shyly, watching as he flipped the lid open and his lights widened as he took in the full sight of the acoustic guitar nestled against the green velvet inside. “That’s why I wanted to give you this. So you could have more things.”

He stared at the instrument, in shock, and you turned pink. Had it been too much?

“I thought you’d like one, since you love music so much,” you said quietly, drawing his shining, crimson gaze and feeling your cheeks flush with heat. “I mean… I kind of thought you’d like drums more, since I’ve seen you using forks to play, but there’s no way I could’ve carried a drum set up the mountain by myself.”

“this…” Red’s gaze returned to the guitar and he reached out to touch the slim, wooden neck. A single, low strum sounded and he withdrew his fingers as if they had been burned. “this is mine?”

“Yup!” You smiled again as Red got over his nerves and gingerly took the guitar from its bed of velvet to hold in his hands. “But you better take care of it!” you wagged a finger at him, watching as he plucked at the strings experimentally. “It was a cheaper model, but it was still expensive! I was lucky the guy at the record store was selling his used. I’m not buying you another one if you break it and- and…”

You trailed off, the words lost in your mouth as you watched Red’s expression break out into the biggest smile you had ever seen on him. His lights shined with excitement and the mock sternness you had been trying to give off melted away under a rush of affection.

“If you want lessons,” you offered quietly, watching as he gently placed the guitar back onto its bed of green velvet. “You’re always welcome to look up videos on my phone. All you have to do is ask. I’d like some company and music while I study this upcoming week.”

Red didn’t have any words, but you could tell by the way he gently cupped your cheeks in his bony hands, by the way his lights softened as they looked at you and the way he pulled you into him to sear your lips with his affection, that he was saying thank you. You sighed into him, your heart fluttering in joy.

“‘n whaddya want?” Red breathed, breaking the kiss. You blinked stupidly, staring up into his lights in confusion until he grinned at you. “my old collar ain’t a fair trade, Doll,” he said softly, his thumb tracing your jawline.

“I think it’s fair,” you grinned back, leaning into his palm, “Unless that’s your way of asking to spend time with me?”

“maybe,” Red smirked, moving to your neck to gently nip at your soft spot with his sharp teeth. You shivered, enjoying the touch a bit too much, and Red leaned into you as he licked at the bite with his hot tongue.

“Y-you could help me make breakfast,” you stammered, placing a hand on his chest to stop him from pushing you back onto the mattress. You wanted what Red was silently offering; what you guessed by the gentle touches trailing along your waist and the heat of his breath against your skin.

“I ain’t th’ domestic type.” One of Red’s hands fell to your lower back and pulled. You fell backwards and your shoulders bounced on the mattress as he climbed over you.

“W-wait!” You pushed again at his chest as his skull fell to kiss at your soul spot. He glanced up at you, his crimson lights flickering with confusion, and you flushed. “I do want this,” you admitted quietly, “but not now. I can’t have your scent all over me today. I need to talk to Axe and Butch later and Axe is already upset with me as it is.”

“eh?” Red surfaced, his bony brow quirked at you. “is that why they’re fightin’? some kinda beta shit?”

“What?” Your eyes widened with surprise and Red reluctantly sat back on his heels. You propped yourself up on your elbows, your brow furrowed with concern. “They’re fighting?”

“I kinda figured,” Red nodded, scratching at the corner of his scowl. His expression made it clear he was mentally kicking himself for mentioning this to you and ruining his chance to claim you. “they ain’t sittin’ next teh each other durin’ meals, an’ that’s fuckin’ weird. ‘n yeh weren’t at dinner last night, Doll. they got pretty bitchy with each other durin’ cleanup. Butch ended up runnin’ teh th’ basement with th’ slut ‘n we ain’t seen him since.”

You swallowed past a hard lump in your throat. You remembered the night after you made up with Butch. He had said he’d talk to Axe for you about the lessons from Edge, then sat with you at dinner away from a grumpy Axe. But Butch had seemed fine then… until the next night, when he had approached you before your date with Pap had started. He had already seemed flustered when he wanted to talk to you, but when he ran away you attributed that to being all dressed up and his natural shyness. Had he just lost his nerve to mention Axe?

“Dammit,” you cursed, sitting up and pressing the heels of your palms into your eyes. “How did I not see that? This is all my fault…”

“how yeh figure?” Red tilted his skull, his crimson lights narrowed with concern as he watched you get more and more upset with yourself.

You hesitated. It was your job as alpha to maintain harmony, but you had no idea how to handle this. Out of all the brothers, Butch and Axe were the closest, and your stupid idea had driven a wedge between them. Before you knew it you were telling Red everything. Your conversations with Edge about teaching Butch; Axe’s reaction when you had mentioned said lessons to him. Butch’s anger that you didn’t speak to him first and his insistence to speak to Axe on your behalf after you had made up.

“so lemme git this straight,'' Red held up a hand to stop your verbal onslaught, his brows furrowed as he tried to make sense of it all. “yeh slapped Edge an’ he  _ didn’t _ deck yeh?”

“That’s not the point, Red,” you pressed, your eyes burning. “I just wanted to help, but I caused this! I can’t use magic, so I tried to make a deal with Edge and I knew that Axe wouldn’t like it at all since he’s so protective of Butch…”

“he ain’t Butch’s keeper,” Red shrugged and leaned back onto his hands to stare at the ceiling. “yer right, Doll, yeh don’ know shit about magic, ‘n Edge is th’ only one who knows what he’s goin’ through. yeh got some spine workin’ th’ deal out fer him.”

“But if they’re fighting because of what I suggested-”

Red growled in frustration and threw one hand up in irritation. “do yeh wanna help Butch get his shit under control, ‘er make Axe happy? yeh can’t do both. I can tell yeh now Butch ain’t gonna get better on his own. Edge only got worse until I sent him off ‘n Butch is already breakin’ shit when he can’t control himself. he ain’t got a lot a time ‘till somethin’ fucked up happens.”

You paled, remembering Red telling you about Edge’s fits. How he had become so destructive that he had blown up a city block with his magic and the thought of Butch accidently doing the same to the house made you feel faint.

“Axe ain’t gonna be happy either way,” Red said firmly, getting to his feet and pulling you up along with him. “yeh think it was easy fer me teh admit I couldn’t do anythin’ fer Edge? hell no. but if Axe’s got Butch’s best intrests in mind, he’ll get over it.”

“Where are we going?” you asked, confused by Red grabbing your hand and pulling you out of his room.

“downstairs,” Red grunted. “I dunno what th’ hell yer gonna do ‘bout all this, but I know what yeh ain’t gonna do. yeh ain’t gonna let Butch deal with this shit by himself. if he ain’t got his bro’s support, then he’s sure as hell gonna have his alpha’s. yer gonna let th’ pansy know we got his back ‘n deal with Axe later.”

“But Axe-” you mumbled meekly, causing Red to spin you around in the entryway and glare at you.

“don’ make my mistakes, Doll.” Red hissed, his rough voice low to keep it from carrying. “yeh got th’ chance of a lifetime, gettin’ Edge teh go along with yeh, an’ he ain’t gonna wait forever. maybe yeh feel like yeh fucked up, but who cares? yeh ain’t perfect. do right by Butch, ‘n Axe’ll see that yeh were jus’ tryin’ teh take care a him eventually.”

You screwed up your face as Red turned and pulled you by your wrist towards the kitchen. It didn’t seem right to strongarm Axe like that, but Red had a point. Edge wasn’t the patient type and Butch needed the help. Especially, your eyes widened as you saw a large crack in the kitchen table, if he was getting worse.

“go on,” Red grumbled, pushing you towards Mutt’s door. You paused, staring at the doorknob, and turned back.

“But what if they’re aslee-”

“then I’ll kick th’ fuckin’ door down an’ wake ‘em up.” Red growled. “yer th’ slut’s alpha. he ain’t gonna be mad yer doin’ what yer supposed teh do.”

Judging by the slight glare Red was giving you, he really would kick the door down. It occurred to you, in that brief moment where you stared at the doorknob again, that maybe Red had taken this situation a little personally. That he was pushing you right now because he didn’t want to see what happened between him and Edge to happen to Butch and Axe. 

You knocked gently against the wood, not expecting any reply, so when Mutt’s raspy voice responded with a weary, “Yeah?” you couldn’t help but look to Red in surprise. He rolled his crimson eye lights at you, reached around you, and opened the door.

“yeh want a song er somethin’?” Red grumbled, placing a hand on your lower back to guide you down the creaky steps. The air of the basement was hazy with purple smoke and smelled strongly of the sweet, clove-like tobacco of Mutt’s cigarettes.

Mutt himself was stationed in front of his computer, a burnt out cigarette hanging between his sharp teeth as he rapidly typed away at his keyboard. The monitor he stared at seemed smaller to you and, with a glance to the side of his desk, you saw another propped against the wood with a large crack in it.

“Hey, Robin,” Mutt mumbled, turning his skull briefly to greet you before returning to the lines of green code on his computer screen. His red lights were foggy with exhaustion. Judging by the many open, and empty, packs of smokes stacked next to his keyboard, he had been up all night working. “Much as I love seeing you,” Mutt turned in his chair, trying to drag off his burnt cigarette before realizing it was out. He pulled it into his mouth with his burnt orange tongue and fetched a fresh pack from the pockets of his black hoodie. “I’m still working.”

“Sorry,” you said quietly, feeling bad that he had overtime despite it not being your fault. “I won’t bug you, I was hoping I could actually talk to Butch?”

Mutt jabbed a thumb over his shoulder, directing you towards the lump under his sheets. “Just don’t freak him out. I don’t have another spare monitor.” Mutt said, eyeing Red as he snatched up the pack of cigarettes and took one for himself. “Since when do you smoke?”

“since when’ve yeh been a bitch?” Red grumbled, taking the lighter from the desk and sparking the end of the black stick.

The fog of Mutt’s lights flattened with irritation. “You’re not supposed to be down here.”

“‘n yer not supposed teh smoke in th’ house,” Red smirked, blowing a cloud of purple smoke in Mutt’s face. “looks like we both got reason teh shut our traps.”

“I don’t suppose you can tell me why sector F for the house is completely offline?” Mutt growled, glaring at Red.

“beats me,” Red shrugged. You watched Mutt bristle and put a reassuring hand on his shoulder, your brows furrowed with concern.

“When did it go offline?” you asked, your eyes darting between the two of them. Mutt swiped the lighter back from Red, grumbling about the storm in between flicks of the flint. “It was probably the winds, then. There was debris all over the yard yesterday and Red was drinking with us during the blackout,” you said quietly, trying to placate Mutt’s suspicion.

Mutt stared Red down, searching for any small change in Red’s neutral expression, before he sighed heavily and pulled at his own tired expression with an empty hand. “Fucking storms. I hate storms. Why does the surface have them? They serve no purpose. There’s no reason to- you stay over there!” Mutt snapped at Red, pointing to the other side of the desk so Red couldn’t look over his shoulder at the code.

“like I give two shits what yer doin’.” Red rolled his crimson lights and leaned against the concrete wall. You watched them, waiting to see if their bickering would escalate. Thankfully, Mutt turned back towards his screen, grumbling to himself, and Red just watched you expectantly, the black cigarette hanging between his teeth and his thumbs hooked into the band of his shorts. Red quirked a brow at you and nodded towards the bed where Butch lay.

You felt weird, walking towards the bed and sitting on the edge. You didn’t think Mutt would pay much attention with his work in front of him, but having Red as an audience made you feel a bit odd as you gently shook Butch’s form. Did Red not trust you to follow through, or was he trying to be supportive?

Butch rolled over, the dark sheet falling from his skull and his foggy, white lights flickering to life inside his dark sockets. They widened as they took you in and a small, lopsided smile grew on Butch’s face. He quickly pulled you in, hugging you tightly as he buried his face in your hair. You gave his arm a gentle pat while Red gave an irritated growl from across the room.

“Calm your coccyx.” Mutt grumbled. Red glared at him and ashed on the keyboard. Mutt practically glared daggers and burnt orange plasma started to bubble up around his knuckles.

“Come on, guys,” you snapped. The last thing you needed right now was them at each other’s throats. “Stop antagonizing each other.”

Red scowled and chewed on his cigarette, redirecting his glare towards the staircase. Mutt took a deep breath, let his plasma fade, and shook his keyboard out over the floor before returning to his code. You turned towards Butch, a gentle smile on your face, as he watched his brothers through a curtain of your hair.

“Sorry to wake you,” you said quietly, letting Butch sit back and study his brothers. “You wanted to talk to me yesterday…?”

Butch nodded, his white lights already sharp and alert. His gaze fell to watch his bony fingers fidget with the growing hole in the sleeve of his red hoodie. “yeah…”

“I’m sorry I didn’t come find you.” You took his hands in yours, to keep him from ruining his clothes. “What did you want to talk about?”

Butch shrugged, glancing across the room at Red and Mutt. “I just… wanted to see… if I could spend the night… with you. but you were… with Pap. Mutt let me stay… down here anyway, so...”

“You’re welcome to stay with me tonight,” you offered softly, aware that Red was still listening. He might be doing well with you, but he was still prickly towards his brothers and, as Pap had put it, very territorial. “But why’d you stay with Mutt? Don’t you and Axe usually stay together?”

“yeah…” Butch shifted uncomfortably, glancing again at his brothers.

“Is something going on with you two?” you prompted, keeping your voice low in an attempt to keep the conversation private. Butch nodded, a gold flush rising across his nasal ridge as he avoided your gaze.

Butch sighed and drew his knees up to rest his chin on. “I guess… you know too, huh? that… we’re arguing. everyone else… knows now… that I broke the table.”

“And my monitor!” Mutt piped up. Butch flinched and you glared at Mutt’s back.

“No one’s going to be mad at you for that.” You squeezed Butch’s hand and scooted next to him to drape your arm over his shoulders. 

“I’m mad…!” Butch huffed, squeezing your hand tightly. “and I’m scared of myself...! what if… I get upset and… hurt you? or… my brothers?” he buried his face into his knees, his soft voice muffled even further. “I… couldn’t forgive myself… if I did that. I tried… telling Axe I want Edge’s lessons… but he won’t listen. he says… if I lose control when… I’m stressed, then I… need to stay far away… from those things.”

“Did you tell him why you want this? About your worries?” you asked quietly. Butch shook his skull. “Did you tell him you need his support and that none of us would let anything happen to you?”

“Axe won’t… listen to me.” Butch’s voice dropped to a tiny whisper and you had to lean forward to hear him. “he says he’s… supposed to protect me… and won’t hear me out. it’s…” Butch’s other hand twisted the leg of his sweatpants and you heard a hint of a growl in his voice. “...frustrating.”

“so do it anyway.”

Both you and Butch jumped to hear Red so close. He had approached the side of the bed, unnoticed by either of you, and looked down on you both while he put his cigarette out on his glowing, crimson tongue. Red flicked the butt across the room and hooked his thumb back into the waist of his shorts. 

“Axe ain’t th’ boss of yeh,” Red said flatly, pushing the tip of his tongue against his golden fang while he spoke. “an’ he ain’t yer only brother. yeh said yeh want th’ lessons ‘n Doll went through a lot a shit teh git Edge on yer side. yeh jus’ gonna throw that away cuz Axe told yeh to?”

“I-I…” Butch stammered, leaning back into you as Red bent over to stare into his eye lights.

“yeh wut? think it’s gonna go away if he locks yeh in a box?” Red spat.

“Red! Easy…” You held your hand up, feeling Butch’s breath come in short, panicked bursts through your contact. “This is Butch’s choice.”

“an’ he knows what he wants!” Red scowled, straightening up. “are yeh scared a Edge losin’ his temper wit yeh, yeh pansy? he prolly will! but he ain’t gonna go after yeh if I’m there. I’ve always been his favorite punchin’ bag an’ I can take a hell of a lot more ‘n you.”

“y-you…?” Butch looked up, confused at Red’s offer. Even Mutt had paused to look over the back of his chair at the conversation.

“did I fuckin’ stutter?” Red huffed. He leaned back on his heels and stared at the stairs. You caught the slight crimson color rising on his nasal ridge as he growled, “thought it was obvious I had yer back, yeh dumbass.”

“um…. I-I don’t… want an audience...”

“yeh call me ‘n Doll an audience?” Red rolled his lights and scoffed. “we ain’t gonna do shit ‘cept watch Edge. he loses his cool, Doll takes yeh elsewhere ‘n I deal with Edge. get me?”

“We’re not going to just let you do this alone,” you added, feeling much better about Red’s presence than when this conversation started. He was trying for a second chance at this. He hadn’t been there for Edge, but he was trying to do so for Butch, and hearing him give his support helped buoy your spirits, too. “Red’s right, we’ll be there for you. And I’ll work with Edge about this so you don’t have to worry so much. We’ll come up with- with a lesson plan and everything so you know what’s coming and you can ask questions if you get confused!”

“what about… Axe?” Butch asked, his white lights darting between your hopeful smile and Red’s embarrassed scowl. “I’d… like it if he… was there, too.”

“I’ll talk to him,” you said firmly, standing up from the bed and brushing out the bunches in your dark green dress. “Even if he doesn’t agree with this, he should’ve at least listened to your side and be there to support you, too. I understand he’s worried but there’s a point where it’s unreasonable. Red’s right, this isn’t just going to go away. You need someone to teach you.”

“Did I hear that right?” Mutt asked from across the room, his foggy lights darting between the three of you. “Red’s right about something? Or am I hallucinating from lack of sleep?”

“go stuff it in yer void ‘n choke on it,” Red snapped.

“Can you two  _ please _ stop antagonizing each other!” You huffed, crossing your arms and glaring at them. “I’ve got to go find Axe before he goes outside or I won’t see him until dinner!”

“he hasn’t been… going out.” Butch said. He tilted his skull, studying Red while his attention was directed at Mutt. “he’s upstairs in… our room. but he’s mad… at you, too… Lily. he won’t… answer the door… if you knock. although…” he added, absentmindedly picking at one of his broken teeth, “it’s… technically my room… so if you… want to just walk in… I don’t mind.”

“Should one of us come with you?” Mutt asked, pulling another smoke out of his pack and shoving it between his teeth without lighting it. “If Axe loses his temper at you…”

“Axe would never hurt me,” you growled, one foot on the stairs, “no matter how angry he is at me. We need to talk this out and besides, he’d be more upset later if we don’t keep him in the loop.”

“So why does he get to go with you?” Mutt asked, pointing at Red as he climbed the stairs behind you.

“‘n what ‘er yeh gonna do, nerd?” Red leaned over the banister to growl at Mutt. “type ‘im inteh submission? ooo, real scary!”

“I’ll show you fucking submission you son of a-”

“Guys!” You glared at the two of them and snapped at Mutt, “You! Go take a nap if you’re going to be so irritable! And you!” you hooked your fingers on the back of Red’s turtleneck to drag him up the stairs. “Stop being a jackass! This isn’t some kind of dick measuring contest! And Butch-” you’re voice did a complete turnaround and became sweet, “I’ll be downstairs soon to let you know how it went, okay?”

“o-okay,” Butch mumbled, watching you pull a swearing Red up the staircase and into the kitchen.

“Red,” you seethed, shutting the basement door behind you and rounding on him in the kitchen, “What the hell was that? You were doing so good with Butch, why did you keep going after Mutt like that? You do realize that he’s one of the guys that decides if you get a mark?”

“so I’ll get two outta three,” Red growled back, crossing his arms defensively. “th’ guy pisses me off, thinkin’ he can hang all over yeh.”

“They  _ all _ have to agree! And he didn’t even touch me!”

“he’s a fuckin’ show off! eyin’ yeh with them hazy lights-”

“That wasn’t haze, it was fog. He’s tired!” You stopped yourself and took a deep breath while you pinched the bridge of your nose. “Mutt’s exhausted, Red. He hasn’t slept because he’s overworked at the moment. Please try to have some sympathy for him and give him a break. He’s on your side more than you think he is.”

“th’ fuck’s that supposed to mean?”

“It means,” you sighed, trying to be patient, “that when I first found out you were a boss, Mutt was the one that pushed me to talk to you. He’s helped me figure out how to get along with you ever since I moved in.”

“I didn’t ask him teh do that, I don’ owe him shit!” 

“I never said you did,” you said calmly, placing a hand on Red’s shoulder while he growled to himself. “But he’s had your back without you knowing it. Now that you do know, I don’t want you shooting yourself in the foot because you’re trying to compete with him. You know I love you and I’m really proud of you for what you just did for Butch. He’s not my beta but you still supported him and encouraged him in your own way.”

“he ain’t?” Red’s lights widened and you quirked your brow at him.

“Does that change what you said to him?”

Red scowled and shook his skull. You gave him a soft smile and kissed his cheekbone in thanks, earning a small crimson flush from him. “Still proud of you, then.”

“eh, don’ mention it,” Red huffed and trailed after you as you left the kitchen.

“You know,” you said as you climbed the wide oak steps, “you really don’t need to come with me. I think Axe would prefer it if it was just the two of us.”

“never said I was comin’ with yeh,” Red shrugged. “if yeh can handle Edge, yeh can handle Axe, an’ I got a guitar teh put my name on.” Red smirked at you and put a hand on his door frame, eyeing the case inside his room. “but if yeh still need me… my door’ll be open.”

You nodded and Red slipped back into his room, leaving you to travel the length of the hall alone. As you stood in front of Butch’s door, you could hear the experimental plucks of strings drifting out onto the second story. A small smile crept onto your face as you took a moment to listen. Red didn’t have any experience, but you could already hear the ghost of a song you might recognize through his tempo and mismatched notes. Despite his bickering with Mutt, Red did really well today.

At least Butch had enough sense not to antagonize Mutt at the moment.

“Okay, I can do this,” you said softly to yourself, working up the nerve to knock on the door before you. Butch had said you could walk right in, but you really hoped that Axe would answer. “Axe?” you asked the door, glancing at the ground outside the nearby window to guess the time. The shadows beneath the trees were a lot shorter, it had to be late morning. Or was it? You didn’t see Pap up yet and he was usually an early riser. “Are you awake, Axe? I’d like to talk to you.”

The inquiry was met with silence and you sighed. 

“I talked to Butch today and I know you’re upset with us,” you said to the door and leaned your forehead against the cool wood. “Can we please discuss this? I hate us not talking. I miss you a lot.”

The doorknob below you clicked open and you caught the smell of iron on the air. Your heart leapt into your chest, both from excitement and nervousness, and you gently pushed the door in to peek inside.

The room was an absolute mess. Crumpled up paper littered most of the floor along with broken pencils. The window was open, letting in a cool draft that rattled the paper balls. You could just make out words written on them, though most of them were scratched out in haste, and you recognized them as thought pages. Axe himself was sitting up on the bed, his back against the wall and the blanket wrapped around his frame, hiding himself from view.

“...what?” he said coolly, his slow and deliberate tone hard and unwelcoming. You slid into the room and gently shut the door behind you. Pages rolled away from the movement of your feet and crinkled like dry leaves. Axe lifted his skull and glared at you from beneath the sheets with his single red light.

“Can we talk?” you asked quietly, standing at the edge of the bed and waiting for an invitation to sit.

“...this is… your fault.” Axe said stiffly, turning his skull away from you beneath the sheet. His words twisted your heart like a knife and you hung your head in shame.

“I know.” you admitted. “I know this is all because of my idea. But I tried talking to you about it first, Axe. Nothing was set in stone then and-”

“...but you made him feel… like he needs to!” Axe hissed, his red light snapping back to you and narrowed to the point it was almost vacant in his socket. “...Edge will… tear him apart and… if he gets hurt… because of you…!”

Your hands clenched tightly into fists as you smelled iron on the air again. You couldn’t see it beneath the blanket, but you knew that red plasma was gathering over his hands. “Axe, I love Butch. I’d never let him get hurt-”

“...there’s no reason… he should!” Axe snapped.

“If you listened to us, we could tell you why!” You snapped back. You immediately regretted that tone and pulled at your temple with the heel of your palm. “Please,” you said, much more softly, “ _ please _ , just listen to me, to him, and you might understand. I know you want to protect Butch but I never suggested this with any intent to harm him. I’m trying to help him.”

“...he doesn’t need… anything from… Edge.” Axe grumbled and pulled the blanket tighter around his frame. “...whatever he needs… he can get… from me.”

“Axe,” you sat down on the edge of the bed and set your hand by the lump of sheets you guessed to be his foot. He pulled it away from you. “I know you and Butch only had each other for the longest time. You cared for him and provided for him in the worst conditions but you’re not in that place any more. I understand that you want to still look out for him and protect him but… he’s growing. He’s changed in more ways than one and he’s making choices for himself. These lessons with Edge… Butch knows he can say no at any time and that would be the final say in the matter.”

Axe didn’t say anything and stared down at the mattress. You scooted back to lean against the wall beside him and felt grateful that he didn’t move away from you.

“He needs you there,” you said softly. “You may not-”

“...you have no idea,” Axe mumbled, interrupting you. “...no idea… what he means… to me.”

You fell silent, unsure if Axe wanted to say more. The rustling sounds of tree branches drifted in through the open window along with the cool, wet breeze.

“...after mom… and Tori… abandoned me,” Axe said quietly, his words coming out slower than usual, like he was thinking hard about each and every one, “...I was… alone. ...in that… place… for so long. ...no one. ...nothing… except… hunger and… fear and… the dark. ...he gave me… reason. ...to keep going. ...to fight my… sickness and… be there.” He added, his voice a whisper almost lost on the breeze, “...I would’ve been… Feral... a long… time ago… if it weren’t… for him.”

Axe pulled the sheet further over his face and hugged his knees to his chest. You hesitated, then placed a hand gently on his shoulder. Once again you were grateful he didn’t pull away. Is that why he was acting so overprotectve of Butch with this? He feared being abandoned again?

“No matter his choices,” you said after a long silence, “Butch will always keep you close. You mean the world to him, too. He doesn’t want to take these lessons without you there, but he knows he still needs them. He still needs your support even if you don’t agree. He’s scared, Axe. Of his magic and of himself. You’ve seen what happens when he gets worked up. That destruction will only get worse unless he learns control.”

“...why… Edge?” Axe lifted his face ever so slightly and you could see the glow of his eye light reflected on the blanket. “...he… has only ever… hurt Butch. ...why does he… suddenly want… to help?”

You bit your lip and chewed on your thoughts. “Edge… has always wanted to help.” you said slowly, matching Axe’s careful verbal pace. “He’s been through a lot, too, and he’s not very good at expressing that kind of intent. Okay,” you admitted quickly at a glare from Axe, “He’s awful at it, but he and Butch have something in common. Something that… I think you should hear from Butch.”

Axe lowered his gaze again and you silently debated on if you should try to hint at the reason yourself, though your internal arguments fell short. If simple curiosity could open up a discussion between them, then you would let the mystery remain in the hopes Axe would approach Butch again.

“I tried to find different ways to help,” you added, letting Axe think. “I talked to Sans and Mutt and they told me almost everyone had been trying to figure out a way, but this situation is very rare. It’s amazing that one of your brothers… that he was once in the same place you are. But he couldn’t do anything about it and it hurt him to admit that.”

This time, Axe looked up at you with curiosity in his red light. “...who?”

“He doesn’t want me to name him.” You offered Axe a small smile of apology. “But if you talk to Butch… the pieces are all there. I know you’ll figure it out together.”

“...I’ve… had to choose… before.” Axe mumbled and rested his chin on his knees. “...between my brother… and my alpha.” He turned his skull so his red light could hold your gaze. The steel in his tone caught you off guard. “...I will always… choose my brother.”

You withdrew your hand, feeling like someone had dumped ice water over your head as you understood his implication. If Axe felt like you were a threat to Butch, he would leave you. Maybe he had already had that idea and that’s why he had avoided you so entirely. With your chest tight, you replied, “I wouldn’t have it any other way.” 

Axe perked up, his red light wide with surprise, and you offered him a bittersweet smile.

“What you guys have is more than our relationship.” You said softly, feeling like your own words were stinging you as they left. “I never want to come between you two and I’d never ask you to choose me over him. You’re family. If… you don’t want us to be together anymore… I understand. Butch  _ should _ come first. And if you really- if that is what you want-” you couldn’t help the words coming out slightly choked and blinked hard to keep your eyes from burning. “I’ll still care for the both of you. I’ll still worry about you when you run out in the woods by yourself and I’ll still defend Butch the best I can. I’ll still be here if you need someone to listen to you and I’ll- I’ll still make you cinnamon rolls and red velvet cake and-”

Your shoulders shook from trying to hold in the sob in your chest, but you couldn’t stop hot tears from rolling down your cheeks. This was your fault, you told yourself. You didn’t want him to leave and if you had done this differently, any other way, then you wouldn’t have messed up so badly. You should’ve listened to that voice in your head telling you to tread carefully and-

Axe reached out from beneath the blanket to slowly pull you into him. He wrapped you inside the blanket, against his chest, and murmured into the crook of your neck, “...I don’t… want to leave.”

Your breath hitched and you clung to his threadbare blue hoodie, soaking the material with tears. Axe’s cold fingerbones touched your bare back and you shivered as he held you.

“...you… really… understand.” Axe said quietly. You nodded, unable to say anything, and Axe tightened his arms around you. “...I want us… to stay together… Willow. ...I… I’m just… scared for him. ...he’s never… had a problem… I couldn’t fix and… I don’t… trust Edge… at all. ...Butch trusts you… and… I do, too, but… if something… ever happened to him...” Axe moved his hand to wipe the tears from your face with his thumb. He leaned his skull back against the wall and sighed. “...I’ll… be there. ...even if… I don’t like it. ...I’ll stop Edge… if I need to… but...” he tilted your face up, his red light searching your face, “...if you’re… serious… then don’t let it… get that far.”

You nodded and felt a tiny hope bloom in your chest as Axe gave you a small smile. “I’ll work with Edge,” you sniffed, wiping at the other side of your face. “I’ll do everything I can with him to make sure nothing goes wrong.”

“...promise?”

“Promise,” you said, your voice shaking as Axe gently pressed his teeth against your forehead. That small gesture of affection had you crying again and silently pleading that you could keep your promise. That you could teach Edge patience because you didn’t want to see Butch hurt and you didn’t want Axe to leave you.

A shiver of fear ran down your spine. Protecting Butch, keeping Axe as your beta, both rode on teaching Edge patience. Scratch the task of getting Red and Milord to get along,  _ that _ might be the hardest thing you would ever do at this house.

As Axe tilted your chin up, whispering to you that he still loved you and kissing you gently, you were filled with the determination to make it happen. Hell, you’d fight Edge yourself if that made him listen.

“...show me… you can do it.” Axe said, licking the tears from your cheek with his glowing, red tongue. You squirmed at the feeling and Axe held your chin in place between his thumb and pointer knuckle. “...do that…” he nipped roughly at your earlobe, “...and… I’ll never… doubt you again.”

“You probably should,” you winced as he gave your neck a particularly painful bite. “I can be kind of stupid sometimes.”

Axe just smirked and pushed you back onto the bed. He pinned your wrists above your head and silenced any more words from you with the taste of iron.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, uh, I guess I've got an instagram now? I'm not really one for social media, but I'll give it a shot... maybe try drawing again... I guess let me know what you guys want from me there?
> 
> https://www.instagram.com/oolongteacup426/?hl=en


	31. Ch 29 - One of Us

Ch 29 - One of Us

“You’re the best, pretty bird. Know that?”

Mutt leaned back in his swivel chair, his foggy lights attempting to shine at you as you presented a late brunch to him. You giggled at his words and turned pink as you elbowed the tower of empty cigarette packs from beside his keyboard, to make way for a large mug and a plate laden with steaming food. You didn’t think he’d like a plain latte, so you had tried to spice it up for him by adding hot cocoa mix and chili powder.

“There are more cinnamon rolls and quiche upstairs. Water sausage, too. I hope I did okay on the flavor, I’m not very familiar with pure monster foods.” you said, kissing his cheekbone as he tested the flavor of your makeshift mocha. Your stomach rumbled with hunger as you fought to ignore the enticing smells wafting off his plate. Baked egg with spinach, black pepper and green onion; cinnamon and melted frosting, and once again you marveled at how a blue cattail plant could brown and smell just like pan fried, crispy meat.

“If you made it, it’ll be amazing,” Mutt mumbled, his raspy voice filled with exhaustion, and took another long, grateful sip from his steaming mug. “So I take it the rolls are for Axe?”

You nodded, a small smile tugging at your lips as you recalled the scene from before you had started cooking brunch. 

Returning to the basement with Axe’s hand in yours. The small exchange of awkward, apologetic smiles. Butch’s joy and him nearly tripping over the sheets of Mutt’s bed as he rushed to hug his older brother. Axe’s red color as he mumbled a sorry and Mutt’s knowing, tired grin at you.

“You did well, Robin.” Mutt gave you a half smile and stabbed at a slice of water sausage with a fork, his other hand still typing away at his keyboard. Green letters and numbers sprang to life on the black background at his touch and, though you looked at them curiously, were unable to comprehend anything he was doing. “I’m glad you and Axe worked everything out.”

“I just hope his and Butch’s conversation goes well, too,” you admitted, shifting on your feet and glancing up at the ceiling towards the bedroom two stories up. You didn’t want to be rude and stare over Mutt’s shoulder at his work. It was confidential, after all. “I’m going to bring everyone else a plate. Try to get some sleep soon, okay?”

“As soon as Milord doesn’t need observational support and I can figure out what’s going on with sector F.” Mutt sighed, his fork clattering to his plate so he could pull a hand over his tired expression. You hummed in sympathy, knowing that Mutt was the eyes in the proverbial sky for the situation in the Underground. Even though you wanted to offer more comforting words, you were nervous to ask questions you didn’t want to know the answer too. It was easier to trust Sans and believe everything was going to be alright.

Mutt interrupted your darkening thoughts by gently tucking your hair behind your ear. “Hey, since you’re bringing something up to Axe, could you tell him to come see me as soon as he can? I need him to go check the physical cameras in the woods and bring any damaged ones back to me.”

“Of course,” you nodded. “Let me know if there’s anything else I can do for you.” You kissed the top of his skull and Mutt hummed with appreciation as you left him to his work. 

Up in the kitchen, you double checked the five full plates you had balanced on top of a cookie sheet. There wasn’t an actual tray to be found, so you made do with what was available. With a satisfied nod, you stuffed forks and spoons beneath the slices of quiche to anchor them in place and slid the heavy sheet off the counter. Your arms shook a little and you took a deep breath to help steady your grip.

“Jeez, boys,” you mumbled to yourself, carefully walking down the hall and up the wide oak steps. Your arms wobbled dangerously and you paused halfway up the stairs to balance yourself, a jolt of fear rushing through you as you thought of what would happen if you slipped on the smooth hardwood because of your socks. Your grip tightened on the cool, metal grips and you grumbled, “I wish I could eat like a small army.”

Red’s door was still open. He sat on his mattress, leaning against the wall with his guitar sitting in his lap and his headphones on his skull. One sneakered foot sat propped up on his exposed knee, bobbing to keep time, while he plucked at the strings of his guitar. He must’ve been using the music to help him learn the chords. One of the small speakers was pushed off towards the back of his skull so he could listen to the cd and the strings at the same time. You gently called out his name to catch his attention and he gave you a warm half smile as you nodded towards the tray. He set his guitar aside on the bed and came to take a plate from you. 

He gave you a quiet nod of thanks and leaned over the other plates to kiss you. His crimson lights darted towards your neck and you flushed as he quirked his brow at you. There was a moment where all you heard was the outro to Avenged Sevenfold’s “M.I.A.” blasted from his headphones, then he stabbed at the slice of quiche with his fork and stuffed the whole thing into the void behind his jaws. You breathed a small sigh of relief as he slowly turned and returned to his waiting guitar. At least he wasn’t making a big deal about Axe’s mark. It occurred to you that maybe, out of all the brothers, Red might have the greatest sympathy for Axe.

Though the tray was a little lighter, you feared carrying it up the narrow steps to your room, to Pap, before you eased your burden a little more. 

You turned and tapped the butt of your heel against Sans’ door, calling out to him to come and get his plate. He opened the door in the middle of a wide yawn that showed off the black hole at the back of his mouth. His hastily tied-on, blue hoodie sat crooked over his waist.

“since when has Pap allowed room service?” Sans grinned, lazily rubbing at the foggy white lights in his sockets while he took a plate from you. His low tone became flirty as he asked, “or breakfast in bed?”

“Brunch in bed. It’s closer to lunchtime than breakfast,” you corrected him with a playful grin. “I don’t know if Pap’ll allow it, he’s still sleeping, but I wanted to do something nice for you guys since I had the time.”

“it’s almost lunch and he’s still sleeping?” Sans tilted his skull in astonishment and stared at you. “if monsters could get sick, I’d ask if he was.”

“He’s probably just tired after our date,” you mumbled, turning pink as Sans’ lights widened with surprise before a mischievous grin crept onto his skull.

“sure that’s what he’ll claim, too,” Sans said, one of his lights flickering at you as he winked. The color on your face deepened as you caught the suggestive pun.

“Did you sleep well?” you asked, trying to steer the conversation away from that topic. “No more nightmares?”

“not at all,” Sans snickered, his blue tongue licking at a trail of melting frosting that seeped down his wrist from his plate and over his bracelet. “pretty sure I had a dream about us in Waterfall, with how wet that last one got.”

He paused, his cheekbones flushing a deeper blue than his tongue, and you broke out in a fit of giggles as the color spread to cover his skull. You bit your lip in an attempt to stifle the noise, wondering if this was the first time Sans’ desire to tell puns had backfired on him. Based on his mortified expression, it was.

Sans quickly disappeared inside of his room and you held the edge of the cookie sheet to your stomach, the remaining plates rattling against the metal as you snorted with barely suppressed laughter.

“S-sweet dreams, not-so vanilla. Next time I’ll just towel you a bedtime story.” you snickered, hearing him bang his skull against the door. “Oh yeah, do you think I could borrow your tape? I need something that’s nice and sticky.”

He groaned in an exasperated way from behind the closed door and slid the plastic dispenser out beneath the crack below. You gave him a thanks, stuffed the tape into the front of your dress, and wandered the rest of the way down the hall. You understood why he was embarrassed, but he was still a guy despite being a monster. Things like that happened. Maybe he’ll keep that in mind next time he wanted to fall asleep with his face pressed into your chest.

You were still giggling to yourself when Butch opened his door for you. Axe looked up at you from the center of the room, his hands holding wads of paper, next to a small trash can filled with more crumpled up pages. A cool breeze tickled your face from the still open window and you breathed deep to taste the fresh, spring air.

“thanks, Lily…” Butch gave you a lopsided smile as he took a plate for himself and Axe in each hand. Axe trotted over, peeking out from the crook of his taller brother’s arm.

“...we wanted to know…” he said, his vacant grin widening at the sight of the warm cinnamon roll in front of him, “...when… the first lesson is?”

“Oh! Um,” you shifted on your feet, unsure of how to answer that. “Well, I haven’t talked to Edge yet and he’s gone for work right now. I can really only speak to him at night anyways… How about we plan on later this week? I don’t have class on Tuesday or Thursday because of midterm testing, so maybe we can plan for any time around those days?”

They nodded together and Butch asked quietly, “are you sure… you’ll be okay? talking to him… by yourself?”

“Leave it to me!” you puffed out your chest proudly, still filled with the determination you felt earlier. “I’ll handle everything with Edge, so don’t you guys worry! Oh, and Axe? Do you think you could talk to Mutt the first chance you get? He needs your help with the cameras.”

Axe gave you a broad smile around the whole cinnamon roll in his mouth and nodded. Butch gently closed the door, a golden flush across his nasal ridge as his lights shined at you in gratitude.

You traversed the hall again, thinking back on the brainstorm you had while cooking brunch. Many of your ideas were good, but a large chunk of them hung on Edge being in a good mood. Since that was unlikely, you had to focus on the ones that didn’t. You felt sure you could sway him to go along with you if you bargained with him the right way. Red taught him everything when he was a kid, and Edge already showed that he was willing to do trades. You just had to figure out something he would be willing to trade his cooperation for.

And if Edge was as good of a teacher as Red, he would need your help.

“Yo, Red!” you called out as you passed his door. You tossed the roll of tape to him and he caught it in one hand, a surprised look on his skull as you shot him a smile. “Keep me postered, won’t you?”

“ugh, shut th’ fuck up already,” he grumbled and shook his skull, but you caught the grin tugging at the corner of his mouth.

Your smile widened as you balanced the significantly lighter cookie sheet on one hand to open your door. The morning may have started out rough, but you were happy with how the rest of the day was turning out so far. Axe and Butch were talking and Axe was friendly towards you again. Red loved his gift. Sans joked himself into a corner and, even though you couldn’t dispel the worry about the breach entirely, knowing that Mutt was watching over Milord and Edge while providing his support gave you a lot of relief. Those three together could handle anything the Ferals of the Underground threw at them.

You set the cookie sheet and the lone plate atop your dresser and watched Pap as he snored into your pillow. He had kicked off half of your cream-colored sheets in his sleep and they barely covered the lower half of his still-naked form.

“Pa- py- rus!” You called out in a singsong voice, bouncing onto your bed on your knees and shuffling over to wake him up. He mumbled something and rolled over, twisting the sheets around his legs, and you heard a flop as his folded clothes fell into a heap on the floor. “Come on, sleepy bones, I made you brunch!”

“YOU MEAN BREAKFAST,” Pap sat up slowly and yawned, stretching his bones with a few satisfying pops. He shivered at the feeling and looked down at you, his white lights foggy and a sleepy grin on his skull.

“It’s almost noon,” you stood up on your knees and kissed the side of his jaw, earning a delighted hum from him.

“I, THE GREAT PAPYRUS, NEVER SLEEP SO LATE. THAT WOULD BE LAZY.”

“Well, my great Papyrus, if you wait any longer your brunch is going to turn into lunch.”

Pap paused as he leaned down to kiss you back and turned his skull to look out the circular window. He gasped and jumped out of bed to stare outside at the sun high over the woods. Then he flushed orange when he realized he had no clothes on and snatched his blue, acid-washed jeans off the floor while you giggled at him.

“HOW DARE YOU LET ME SLEEP SO LATE!” He flopped back onto the bed, tripping himself when he tried to shove both his feet through one leg of his jeans. His flush deepened while he corrected the mistake and his red mittens fumbled with the brown leather belt.

“Wouldn’t dream of it,” you snickered, earning a glare from him.

“NO PUNS AT THE TABLE!” he snapped automatically and you roared with laughter.

“This is a bed,” you grinned, bringing your hand up to hide your smile beneath the stare of his narrowed lights. “I sheet you not.”

“HONEY, NO!”

“Sorry to lay that one on you. I can do bedder pillow talk than that.”

Pap growled and pinned you down on the bed by your wrists. You bit your lip and snorted a little from trying to keep your laughs inside. He sighed heavily and rolled his white lights at you. “AWFUL JOKES ASIDE,” he leaned down and caught your mouth with his, letting you smile against the taste of brown sugar, “I’M GLAD YOU’RE IN A GOOD MOOD TODAY.”

You snorted again, turning red from trying to keep another joke inside. His lights flattened at you, as if daring you to say it anyways. You were in the mood to oblige.

“I got a brunch more, if you want them.”

You stared intensely at each other before you couldn’t handle the tension anymore and broke out in a fresh wave of laughter. You tried to roll, struggling to break his gentle grip on your wrists, but you might as well have been trying to lift a brick wall.

“ARE YOU DONE?” Pap asked, a touch of weariness to his loud tone. “I SWEAR, IF YOU AND SANS EVER START A PUN WAR INSTEAD OF A PRANK WAR I’M MOVING BACK TO SNOWDIN.”

“That’s cold, Pap,” you pouted, trying to look hurt even though you knew he didn’t mean that. He did not miss the pun and gave a small growl as he nipped your neck. He paused there, his breath tickling your skin, and you froze, realizing he had caught Axe’s mark on you. Despite them both being your betas, you knew Pap didn’t know about Axe yet and you were well aware of the small rivalry between them. Pap bit you again, a bit more forcefully this time, and you gave a small whimper beneath him.

One of his hands released your wrist and moved to your waist, moving you further up the bed as he climbed on top of you. He caught your mouth with his and you sighed into his kiss, the warm taste of brown sugar dancing from his tongue to yours making you slightly dizzy. His fingers clawed at your side and he pressed his hips into yours, pinning you and cutting off any potential escape while he gave you his own mark.

Maybe it was the sugary sweet taste of him, or maybe it was a waft of scent from the food still waiting on your dresser, but just as things started to become more heated between you two your stomach let out a loud, empty growl. Pap pulled away, his white lights wide with surprise as you turned brick red.

“I’m, um, kind of hungry,” you admitted sheepishly. Pap let out a loud, booming laugh and pulled you up from the bed onto your feet.

“LET’S GO DOWNSTAIRS, THEN,” he grinned at you, bending to the floor to pick up his white shirt and glancing at the makeshift tray on your dresser. “WE SHOULDN’T EAT IN OUR ROOMS ANYWAYS, IT’S UNCIVILIZED.”

~~~

“-so we could use those logs you made to start the base, and if Axe helps us, we can get more from the woods to build up the walls to keep raccoons and opossums out,” you slid the gardening book across the counter to Pap so he could get a good look at the penciled diagram on the pages. Pap nudged Butch to take over the browning of the ground water sausage you were prepping for the shepherd’s pie for dinner.

Pap’s lights narrowed and he hummed while studying the plans, his mind almost audibly whirring. Butch glanced curiously over Pap’s shoulder, his white lights darting to you occasionally while you chopped up green beans.

To your delight, Pap had agreed to help you with yard work after you had finished brunch together. He had helped you move the heavy branches still scattered across the lawn that would’ve given you a lot of trouble, and easily snapped the thigh-thick branches with his hands. You remembered how wide your eyes got at that nonchalant display of strength and wondered just how strong Pap was. You recalled Mutt once saying Pap could drag hundred year old trees with ease, but it was still hard to judge Pap’s physical might since his body was made of bones. Since had you ever seen Pap lose his temper before (or even get angry enough for his eye sockets to go dark) you could only guess at what kind of strength he was holding back.

“what’s a… compost heap for?” Butch asked quietly, switching his attention to stir the boiling potatoes while Pap flipped through the pages of the book, muttering to himself while he read.

“It’s to make fertilizer for the garden,” you explained and gestured at the ends of the green beans you had cut off. “I can use stuff like this to make black dirt to help the plants grow. I can also throw in grass clippings, dead leaves, rotting wood, and weeds as long as there aren’t any invasive species mixed in.”

“IF YOU WANT TO USE ANY OF THOSE TOOLS IN THE SHED, I’LL HAVE TO GET RID OF THE RUST FIRST,” Pap added, setting the book down to take over vegetable prep so you could work on dessert. “BUT THEY’RE STILL NOT VERY GOOD, HONEY, WE’LL HAVE TO BUY YOU NEW ONES.”

“It’s okay, it’s not too pressing at the moment,” you said, turning pink at the thought of asking Sans for money to buy tools and wondered how you would get them all home. A taxi, maybe? “The ground is still too cold to plant and the grass isn’t growing that fast since it still frosts in the morning. I’ll just work on plans for now. Do you guys have any requests for produce or flowers? I can still buy seedlings and start them in my room.”

“I LIKE STRAWBERRIES,” Pap said, sliding the chopped vegetable aside and moving so you could prep a baking pan with freshly made pie crust. “CUCUMBERS, TOO.”

“raspberries…” Butch smiled at you, taking your place before a bright green, cooling cake and crushing a handful of pistachios beneath the flat of the knife you handed over. “and… sweet potatoes.”

“What about you, Axe?” you asked, jotting down their suggestions in the back of the gardening book. You looked over at the table where Axe sat, a vacant grin on his face as he patiently watched the three of you cook from afar. His red light moved to focus on you, away from the dirty look Pap was giving him over your shoulder, and you turned pink. You didn’t realize how much you had missed his weird habit of quietly watching from afar.

“...apples and… water sausage.” Axe said, his grin widening. You hummed thoughtfully and tapped your pen against the counter.

“I don’t know how to grow water sausage or get the seeds for it…” you sighed, glancing at the pan of browning faux-meat. It was a monster plant and your gardening book didn’t have any information on it. You couldn’t find them at any human store. The only way you could get it into your garden was if you tried starting it from what was in the fridge or if one of the brothers brought you a plant from the Underground. “And apple trees can take years to mature, even if they’re the dwarf variety. I can pick up a sapling, but is there something else you’d like me to grow for you?”

His single light flickered as he thought. He scratched at his chin before slowly saying, “...raspberries.”

You nodded and jotted a small number 2 next to the note in your book. “Pap, if I could ask you to bring some of these back from the Underground, I could try getting them to grow from seeds and planting them outside. The monster garlic in my room is doing really well in full sun, so I think I could try planting some other monster varieties in that and in partial shade to see how well they take. Butch, would you want to help me with some experiment notes after dinner?”

Butch nodded and switched with you so you could mix the frosting for your pistachio cake. He took over salad prep and you caught him tossing a tomato to Axe when he thought you and Pap weren’t looking. Axe quickly hid the evidence inside his mouth, grinning mischievously as he spied you raising an eyebrow at him.

~~~

You stared at the purple and red sunset through the cracked window over the sink, studying the dark grey clouds that streaked across the sky. Chatter filled the kitchen from the far end of the table, though you could tell it was slightly forced. Pap and Sans debated to each other about plans to visit Undyne and, as Sans was trying so hard to convince his brother, Grillby’s, next time they went to the Underground for supplies. Butch and Axe were talking in low, reassuring whispers to each other and it gladdened your heart to see them so close once again.

The seats nearest you, however, were much more solemn. Red picked at his food with little enthusiasm, his crimson lights darting occasionally to the empty chair at his side where Edge usually sat.

Mutt, who was on your right, rested his chin on the crook of his arm and ignored his food completely. You thought he might’ve fallen asleep, this would be his second night without rest, but you noticed his foggy red lights staring at the other empty chair where Milord would’ve sat.

When it had been time for dinner to be served, Butch had gone to round up the others while you and Pap readied plates. The entire family had gathered save for three, and Butch came to you to admit that Milord and Edge weren’t answering knocks at their door. Mutt hadn’t come up yet, either, and it was only after the rest of you had sat down together that he finally walked through his door into the kitchen.

The brothers and you all turned and stared as Mutt caught your attention. His raspy voice was hesitant as he announced the breach to the house and told you all that Milord and Edge wouldn’t be home for some time. 

“The Gate into District 4 has been completely destroyed,” Mutt said, his red lights glancing at the worried looks on Axe and Butch’s skulls. “So until the situation is contained, any visits to the Underground have to be postponed until the all clear is made,” he pressed, his last statement directed towards Pap and Sans. You understood why he said that to them; Pap was the one who picked up rations for the house and Sans normally accompanied him or, on occasion, disappeared to work at his mysterious job.

“What about Milord and Edge? Or the other Guards?” you asked, watching Red out of the corner of your eye. He sat stock still in his chair, his crimson lights the size of pinpricks as he stared down at his plate, but his gaze snapped up at your question.

“They’re..” Mutt sank into his chair and his hand pulled at his temple while he sighed. “Well, our brothers are fine.”

Hearing that those two were at least okay helped lighten the heavy mood a little, but it was hard for anyone to find anything to say at first. You turned to stare out the window and the darkening sky, trying to imagine what it must be like down there right now. The way Mutt had said it, phrased it, implied that others weren’t okay. You reached under the table to take Mutt’s and Red’s hands in yours, knowing that they were the ones closest to Milord and Edge and that this situation had to be hardest on them. Mutt intertwined his fingers with yours while Red nearly crushed your hand inside his.

“ANYONE WE KNOW?” Pap asked, breaking the silence that had settled on the table and directing attention back towards Mutt.

“You know I’m not supposed to tell you guys anything beyond a warning,” Mutt mumbled. He laid his arm on the table and rested his chin in the crook of his arm. “But I know you’re not stupid. You guys will notice when they don’t come home and I don’t want anyone assuming the worst.”

“they’ll be fine,” Sans piped in, his calm, low tone soothing to everyone’s frazzled nerves. “Milord’s already called in the specialists if he’s taken Edge in from off-duty. they’ve dealt with this kind of thing before.”

“They’re already a woman down.” Mutt admitted quietly, his red lights locking with Pap’s white ones. “Undying was leading the first charge to take back the Gate.”

“HAS… ANYONE TOLD UNDYNE, YET?” Pap asked, his usually loud voice slightly subdued. Mutt shook his skull. “BUT THAT’S HER TWIN SISTER! SHE CAN’T NOT BE TOLD-”

“Milord’s got bigger problems right now than notifying next of kin,” Mutt growled bitterly. You squeezed his hand and his irritation deflated somewhat as he turned his gaze towards the empty chair at his side. “He’s got other people for that, anyways.”

“Red,” you winced, tugging at your hand in his as he nearly broke your bones. He took his hand back and your touch fell to his knee, your fingers still throbbing from the pressure. 

“sorry, Doll,” his rough voice rumbled in a whisper meant only for you. “I just… she was his partner, yeh know? had his back.”

Red picked up his fork to stab moodily at his food, pushing it around his plate without actually eating anything. You nodded and looked back out the window at the sunset. So this Undying was, had, been an exterminator, too, and worked with Edge as his partner. Edge might be a one-man army, but even he needed someone to give him backup out there.

Undying must have, had, the patience of a saint. Or at least the brawn to earn Edge’s respect. Maybe both.

You stared out at the purple and red sky, the grey wisps of clouds, and half listened to the chatter slowly picking up around the table. Pap wanted to see Undyne and make sure she had support while she mourned and Sans thought a night out might help her feel better. Axe quietly reassured Butch that the Ferals couldn’t reach the surface and, even if they did, he would make sure none of them got close to the house.

Red was the first to get up from the table. He shoved his chair away from his barely touched plate, pulled his headphones out from the white fur of his hood, and stuffed them onto his skull as he stomped away.

“You should keep him with you tonight,” Mutt mumbled into his sleeve, watching you stare after Red while concern filled you. “He won’t be able to sleep, knowing Edge won’t come home. Last time something like this happened and Edge hadn’t come home for a few days, we woke up and found Red passed out drunk in the living room after gutting the couches.”

“He’s probably frustrated because he feels he can’t do anything,” you muttered back, keeping your voice low so your conversation wasn’t overheard. “I know I do.” You turned your head to look down into Mutt’s fuzzy red lights, wondering. “What about you? Don’t you want me to stay with you?”

“I’ll be having reconnaissance on and off all night with Milord,” Mutt sighed. “As much as I’d like to join you, you’d be alone in my bed and I don’t want you dwelling on this. This isn’t going to be fixed in one night and you need someone to talk to.”

You nodded slowly, your stomach knotting with worry. Despite this feeling, you gently encouraged Mutt to eat something, insisting that he needed fuel for his thoughts. Mutt eyed you out of the corner of his sockets, sighed, then propped himself up on his elbow before taking a small, cold bite of shepherd’s pie.

“Are you upset about that?” you asked quietly, your worry doubling as you thought of Mutt’s jealousy. You had just made up with Axe, you didn’t need Mutt to get upset now, too. It wasn’t his fault he was tied up with work, but you knew he liked to be the one you leaned on.

“No,” Mutt shook his skull, offering you a tired smile. “Maybe I would’ve been, when we first got together, but not now. You don’t play favorites and I’d feel guilty keeping you to myself when I can’t give you my time. It would be a pretty petty thing of me to do after all you’ve done to take care of me. Red and Pap should get their chance to support you now that they’re marked. Axe would probably like to make it up to you, too, after your fight.”

“Red’s not my beta.” You returned the smile and glanced at the rest of the table, at the other brothers who were distracting themselves from their thoughts with each other’s company, but still lowered your voice. “I haven’t talked to the rest of the pack about him yet and he needs to show that he’ll do well as part of that.”

“So we’re only welcoming one in the next meeting?” Mutt smirked at you. Your eyes widened in surprise at his easy acceptance of both Pap and Red into the pack. “Hey, I was expecting two, to be honest. Especially after my little drunken slipup. It’s obvious Red’s crazy about you and I’m not dumb enough to think he wouldn’t go for it after knowing you felt the same. Pap definitely didn’t waste any time, given the opportunity.”

You flushed pink, appreciating the honesty but still a little embarrassed by it. “I… wanted to have that meeting tonight, honestly. But with Milord gone…”

“Then don’t,” Mutt shrugged. “But if you want my opinion, you should tell Axe about Pap, now that you two are talking again. We don’t know when Milord will be back, or when he’ll have the free time for a meeting. He’ll understand if you don’t wait. Extenuating circumstances and all that.”

“What if I tell Axe, but wait for the meeting anyway?” You asked. “I also want to tell Pap about you and Axe at least. I was really hoping to do this properly, but it doesn’t feel right having a meeting without Milord. He’s a part of this, too...” 

Mutt nodded and you stared down at your plate, letting your words trail off as worry filled you again. You sank slowly in your seat and wondered how long it would be until Milord came home. If he was okay and if there were more casualties…

Mutt watched you for a long moment, then slid his chair back and stood up from the table. “Think you could bring me a slice of cake, Robin?” He asked, taking his plate with him as he ventured back towards the basement. “I’ve got to get back to it if I want a chance to nap tonight.”

“Oh, sure!” You said, a bit surprised that he would leave so soon, he had barely touched his food, but understood why he did. He had run out of time. The rest of the table was starting to finish up their dinner, so you rose from your seat to serve the pistachio cake you had made.

The basement was lit up and the door cracked for you when you went to take Mutt his slice. You knocked on the door, alerting Mutt that you were there, before venturing down the creaky wooden steps. You could hear Milord’s cool voice echo up to you and you quickly descended the steps, trying to not spill any of the plate in your hands. Mutt held up a hand to you as you reached the concrete floor, silently telling you to stop before you got any closer. You bit your lip and held the plate tightly in your hands, your eyes glancing at the pile of broken cameras next to Mutt’s feet before darting back up to his computer.

Milord spoke on screen, but it was unlike the usual English you had known him to speak. His words were like the cracking of lake ice - rapid, deep, and echoing - and you understood that he was speaking Font to his brother. Mutt nodded every now and then, his brow furrowed in concentration as he split his screen between two tabs to take notes during the video chat. Mutt replied in a raspy murmur, like dry leaves sliding over each other, and typed rapidly to pull up camera views. The squares were too small for you to discern anything from your distance except to make out irregular shapes of black, grey and white.

Mutt said something else, a small smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth. Milord’s purple lights widened ever so slightly, betraying his surprise, before he scowled angrily and shot off a furious response in Font. The feed went dark and Mutt leaned back in his chair, sighing and pulling at his temples. Your fingers traced the edge of the plate in your hands as you silently cursed the fact you still didn’t understand Font, even though you could speak a little bit.

“See? He’s fine,” Mutt translated for you, his skull turning so you could see the tired grin he forced on as he slouched in his chair. You smiled, understanding now that he had wanted you to catch the conversation so you could see Milord for yourself. You hurried forward, set the plate of cake on the messy desk next to Mutt’s dinner, and quickly pulled him in by his shoulders for a tight hug.

“Easy, pretty bird,” Mutt mumbled from between your breasts, nipping at your skin as he pulled his flushed skull away. “I can’t work if I’m distracted.”

“Sorry,” you mumbled. “I just… thank you.”

~~~

“What about this one?”

“um… more.”

“On a scale of one to ten?”

“a... seven?”

You nodded and jotted the number down in your notes, thankful that Butch was helping you track the amount of magic in your plants. It was the first time you were making a record of it, but hopefully your makeshift system would help you track any fluctuations that could help you.

It was wonderful to have a distraction, especially one that made you feel like you were doing something to help. You were exceedingly grateful that Butch still wanted to come upstairs with you after dinner, despite the disturbing news, but you had noticed that he seemed much more relaxed about it than you. Perhaps it was because Axe had come up, too?

“This one?” you asked, pointing at the echo flower that Pap had given you. You were expecting the answer of ‘ten’ that Butch gave you, but it still made your brow furrow. If the plants you had were all pure monster strains, then why did the levels of magic vary? Why were the ones on your dresser a five and seven, the ones in shade threes or fours, and the ones behind your bed- 

“two…” Butch said, peeking behind the headboard of your bed and pointing at the wilting plant, “and… one.” he pointed towards the brown, shriveled leaves of the garlic bulb in its cup.

“I guess I should toss this,” you sighed, taking the plant and its dry cup. It was strange, that this plant would still absorb as much water as the others, despite being dead. Did normal garlic do that, or was that just a trait of monster plants? You felt the plant, noting that it was dry and crumbly to the touch in your notebook, before marking it as a failure.

“...what is… that one?” Axe asked from your bed and pointed towards the blue flower. Red growled with irritation as the movement brushed against his foot. Axe ignored him and Red returned to quietly staring at the ceiling. Though he had agreed to come upstairs to join the three of you, Red was choosing to ignore the company while he listened to music on your phone through his headphones. 

You had asked the others, too, if they wanted to come with just to hang out, but Pap and Sans politely declined when they saw that you had Axe and Butch at your side. Pap told you that he needed to borrow Sans’ phone and make a call. Before you could ask anything (since when did Sans have a phone?) dragged his brother away with worry clearly etched on his skull. You assumed that he was worried about his ex-trainer, Undyne, even though Pap had said before that they weren’t friends. Judging by the way he was acting now, that wasn’t true. And you weren’t going to try to tear Pap away from comforting his friend.

“This is an echo flower!” You said, surprised that Axe didn’t know. It was a monster plant, after all. “They grow in District 2, in Waterfall,” you added, liking the nicknames they used for the Districts more than just the official numbers they were officially labelled with.

“we’ve... never been outside District 4.” Butch admitted softly, glancing at Axe. “and I, um… never really left our house.”

“...it’s easy… to get lost there and… it’s dangerous.” Axe said, his single red light falling to you, to your chest and the spike of unease that came with the mention of The Ruins. “...but… don’t worry, Willow. ...I’ve fought… many Ferals before. ...it’s nothing… our brothers can’t… handle.”

You nodded, letting Axe’s words reassure you. It wasn’t just him, Sans’ words from earlier today echoed in your mind, too. This had happened before. There was nothing in the other timelines that showed they wouldn’t come home. Just stop focusing on things you had no power to change, you told yourself. 

“It’s a pretty interesting plant,” you said, placing your notebook on your dresser so you could pick up the blue flower. You checked the pot, noting that it was already dry, and filled it up with water from the plastic jug on the floor before handing it out to show them. “Listen to this, it’s really neat!”

“ _ Neat!” _ the little flower chimed back in your voice. Axe and Butch’s eye lights widened in surprise and you gently nudged the bloom again, prompting a chorus of that same word.

“Just don’t let Milord know I have it,” you said, smiling sheepishly. “I don’t want anyone to get in trouble and I don’t want it taken away. It’ll be a wonderful help to my experiment; I’m thinking about picking up a book on cave adaptations in plants and animals to help me understand how it survived without sunlight.”

“I thought… humans lived on… the surface?” Butch tilted his skull, his white eye lights flickering with confusion.

“Well, we do, but that doesn’t mean we don’t explore. The Underground isn’t the only cave in the world, there are others and they have their own unique kind of wildlife.” 

“...like… other monsters?” Axe asked, poking at the echo flower and earning a quizzical “ _ monsters?” _ in return. 

“No, Mount Ebott is the only place with monsters.” You hummed thoughtfully, wondering if a documentary existed about caves that you could pick up for them. There was so much of the world you wanted to show them, so much they couldn’t see for themselves, until the law was changed. In the meantime, however, “Hey, Red,” you handed the echo flower over to Butch and crawled onto the bed to shake Red’s foot. He lifted his skull, scowling at you, but moved his headphones to the side to listen. “Can I borrow my phone for a second? I want to show Axe and Butch something on caves. Do you want to see, too?”

“nah,” red grumbled, unplugging the phone and tossing it to you. The phone blared music and you jumped in surprise, missing the screaming phone as it bounced off the bed and skittered across the floor.

_ “Sometimes I’ll fall down, sometimes I’ll lose hope _

_ But those days will be few if I keep my feet on the ground _

_ I might be lonely, but I ain’t alone here _

_ So I’ll keep pushing the limits of what makes me-” _

The pot in Butch’s hands shattered as he scrambled back, frightened by the loud, sudden noise in your quiet room. Water splashed all over your phone while the air filled with the smell of maple.

The phone sparked and the screen went black as it died. The room was filled again with silence and a new tension.

You stared down at it, your mouth open in disbelief as the water slowly spread over the hardwood floor.

“s-sorry..!” Butch squeaked, pieces of the ceramic pot and bits of gravel slipping through his wet fingerbones and falling to the floor with a clatter. “I didn’t mean to… break anything!”

Axe jumped up to remove what was left of the pot from Butch. He set the flower and the mess on the floor so he could look his brother’s hands over, checking for injury.

“It’s… it’s okay,” you said softly, fishing your phone out from the water to hold it up before you. You could see Red’s horrified expression reflected in the dripping, dark screen. “It was an accident. Just… just an accident. Are you okay, Butch? You didn’t cut yourself?”

“...he’s fine.” Axe grumbled, his eye light narrowing at Red.

“It’s okay,” you repeated, firmly, as you caught that angry gaze. “It was just an accident, we can fix this. Red, go grab the broom from under the stairs in the entrance hall and Axe, can you check the shed and see if there’s a spare pot for the flower? Butch, if you could help me find some rice in the kitchen, I might be able to save my phone if we work fast.”

Axe scowled, but he disappeared in front of your eyes, leaving the smell of iron behind him after teleporting away. You scooped the echo flower off the ground and put it in the cup on your dresser with the dead garlic, to keep it safe.

“You guys coming?” you asked, looking over your shoulder as you headed towards the stairs. They were both staring at the mess on the floor; Butch with a nervous expression and Red with an angry one. Butch jumped at your question, nodded, and ran over to you. His hand found yours and squeezed your fingers tightly. You wondered if he was thinking of his magic, how that accident could have been something else. 

Red, on the other hand, deepened his scowl and pulled his black hood over his skull. He thrust his hands in his pockets and slowly followed you and Butch, grumbling to himself under his breath.

“sorry, Lily… I didn’t mean to…” Butch mumbled, his nasal ridge flushed gold with embarrassment while you descended the stairs together. “I know your phone… and that flower... are important to you…” 

“fer fuck’s sake, stop apologizin’ fer shit yeh didn’ do!” Red snapped from behind you two. “th’ plant’s fine an’ I broke her phone, not you, yeh dumb pansy.”

“Red!” you glared over your shoulder. You understood that he was angry with himself, but you wouldn’t let him insult Butch. Red growled at you and didn’t say anything more. He stopped at the cupboard under the stairs as you all passed it and nearly ripped the door off its hinges as he opened it. You sighed, hearing him knock things around and off shelves while he searched for the broom.

“I don’t… understand.” Butch said softly to you, fetching the rice from the cupboards in the kitchen while you looked for a bowl. “is... is he mad at me, or…?”

“He’s trying to tell you it’s not your fault,” you said gently, filling the bowl in your hands halfway up with the rice Butch gave you before placing your phone inside. Butch’s white lights flickered with confusion and his hands fell to pick at the holes in the sleeves of his red hoodie. You buried your phone in the rice before reaching out to stop the nervous fidgeting. “I know it must be weird for you, given how Red usually is, but he’s trying.”

“it’s… really weird.” Butch admitted, nodding to you. “I told Axe… about what he did… in Mutt’s room and… he doesn’t know what to… think about it, either.”

“Do you think Axe will let Red sit in on lessons?” you asked, gathering what towels you could find in your arms. Butch shrugged, his white lights following you around the kitchen.

“Lily…” Butch started fidgeting with his sleeves again, his gaze falling to the floor. “I… know I shouldn’t… ask you, but… is… is Red… your beta?”

“Nope,” you said quietly, thinking  _ ‘not yet’ _ to yourself. He was trying so hard in the short time since your conversation. If he kept this up, you had no doubt the others would see what you saw in him. You glanced through the archway to where Red was still digging. A bottle of window cleaner rolled out across the hall and bumped into the wall. A sneaking suspicion filled you that he was messing it up on purpose, just to irritate Milord. You’d have to try and organize it later.

“then why… is he…” Butch hesitated, searching for the right words. “...trying to be… nice to me?”

You smiled softly at Butch, shifting the towels in your arms so you could take his hand again. His gaze snapped up to yours. “Because he wants a second chance to do things right.”

Butch’s brow furrowed in thought as you gently led him out of the kitchen. You stopped at the cupboard, watching Red knock a bottle off a shelf in a catlike manner and watch it topple onto a pile on the floor. He snickered to himself and knocked another over. You took your hand back from Butch, grabbed a towel, and whapped Red over the skull with it.

“You do realize,” you said flatly, quirking your brow at him as he spun around, “that I’m going to be the one to clean that up?”

“th’ fuck for?” Red growled. “tiny ‘n vanilla do that shit.”

“Sans’ week of cleaning is over,” you said simply, leaning past him to pull the broom from the mess, “and while Milord is away, I’m going to try and keep things clean around here. Unless you want to do that?”

“hell no,” Red rolled his crimson lights and folded his arms over his chest. “‘s wrong with a bit a dirt, anyway?”

“I’m not mopping the ceiling,” you rolled your eyes back and led the way back towards your room, “but I’m not going to let the house end up like Sans’ room, either.”

Back up in your room, Axe had already returned and was trying to repot the echo flower. The large, terracotta pot he had found was filled with water. The blue flower was draped over the side, its roots floating in the pool with the dead garlic clinging to it, while Axe picked gravel off the floor and dropped it with a small ‘plunk’ into the pot. You thanked him and spread the towels out over the puddle of water. Butch took the broom from you, to sweep up the shards of ceramic, while Red plopped back onto your bed.

“...I’ll need to… get you more rocks.” Axe said, watching you as you knelt beside him to pick up pebbles, too. “...these won’t… be enough.”

“I don’t think it needs a lot,” you said, smiling warmly at him. He returned the expression and you felt your heart swell with affection, appreciating that he was with you again. “The flower just needs an anchor to keep the roots under the water.”

Your hand brushed against the plant as you dropped a few pebbles into the pot. It echoed weakly back,  _ “Wat-er.” _ You paused, wondering why it sounded different. Was there too much water in the pot? Or had it been injured when the pot broke?

You gently plucked the little flower out and held it in your hands. The dead garlic clung to it and you started to pull it away before pausing again. It felt different. It was… smooth. It was still brown, but it wasn’t dry and crinkly like it had been. You started to pull it away again from the echo flower and felt a small resistance. Confused, you brought both plants closer to your face to inspect them and gasped in surprise.

At the base, where the plants touched, the garlic had wrapped its roots around those of the echo flower and the base of the bulb had veins of green in it again. You gasped louder, unable to say anything in your astonishment.

“what…?” Butch leaned over you and Axe tilted his skull. Even Red sat up slightly to watch.

“It’s… it’s coming back!” Your eyes widened as you watched, literally watched, as the roots of the garlic slowly grew longer and further entwined themselves with the flower. “HOLY SHIT! What the hell is this?”

Red started to say something, but you shushed him and stared intently at the plants, watching them slowly interact with each other. How was this happening? Was the echo flower somehow healing the garlic? The green veins on the garlic thickened and spread, slowly strengthening the brown leaves and perking them up, but at the same time, you saw brown start to creep up from the roots of the flower and it drooped over your palm. 

“No, no no no no!” You said frantically, not wanting the beautiful blossom to die. You started to prune the garlic roots away with your nails, trying your best to trim them away and save the flower.

_ “no..” _ the flower mumbled. You felt a flutter of panic and ripped the garlic away. That hasty action only damaged the flower more, since half of its roots were still tangled up. You let out a small scream and jumped to your feet, trying to figure out what to do as you danced on the spot. 

“Butch!” you turned to him, offering the bulb to him. A crazy idea had hit you, and you had to try. “I need magic! Give me magic!”

“I don’t… understand.”

“Plasma!” you pushed the flower closer to him and Butch leaned back, startled. “Make plasma!”

“I… I can’t…”

“Axe!” you spun on the spot and leaned down, offering the plant to him instead. “Maybe yours will work, try soaking the roots!”

Axe’s red light darted between your eager face, your frantic soul spot, and the dying plant. He slowly brought a hand up and let his red plasma pool in his palm, filling the room with the smell of iron. You gently set the flower into it, holding your breath while you waited for something to happen.

It was just a hunch, a wild guess.

Nothing happened.

Then the flower twitched.

The roots slowly started to grow, threading themselves into the spaces between Axe’s bones, and red color started to overtake the brown.

You squealed with excitement, hugging Butch and Red to you as you jumped around in delight.

“It worked! Holy shit it worked I can’t believe it!”

“th’ fuck’s goin’ on?” Red growled from between your breasts, his face flushed crimson. You kissed the side of Butch’s skull, drawing out his gold blush, then the top of Red’s head, before letting them both go to kiss Axe full on the mouth.

“I have no idea!” You squeaked joyfully, taking Axe’s hand to try and gently coax the roots away from his bones. “I think magic heals plants, why else would the garlic cling to the flower like that? It was  _ leeching _ magic from it to come back! What just happened with Axe’s magic confirmed it, you can even see the red of his plasma in the echo flower!”

You rushed over to your dresser and flipped frantically through your notebook to the day Butch had his color change. None of the plants were sick that day, but they did have that strange growth spurt. So did magic make them grow, as well as heal them?

“seriously, th’ fuck’s goin’ on?” Red asked again. You shushed him as you grabbed a pen and began to write frantically on a blank page of your notebook, trying to get out your theory while it was fresh and things you needed to try to prove it. Red growled with frustration and folded his arms over his chest, scowling.

“Lily is… doing plant experiments,” Butch softly explained. He took a seat next to Red on the bed and watched you as you sped through your lines, your tongue sticking ever so slightly out of your mouth, with a smile on his face. “she’s trying… to get monster plants… to grow on the surface.”

“And I think I can do it!” You smiled, nearly squealing again in your excitement. “All the plants besides the ones without sunlight are doing fine, so I don’t see why they wouldn’t grow outside, but cultivation is the main problem in the Underground, isn’t it? So getting them to breed might be the big problem, but if we can use magic to speed up their growth, then we can try that step a lot sooner than I thought!”

“but there’s no sun… in the Underground.” Butch pointed out. “why aren’t… the ones behind your bed... doing well?”

“I’m not entirely sure,” you admitted. “I’m not too versed on monster plants, but I think if I look into adaptations we humans have discovered for subterranean plant-life, I might get a better idea.” You started to pace in front of the guys, the pen between your teeth as you thought out loud to them. “I think magic has something to do with it. My new theory is that plants might use magic to help them grow. Surface ones need light and water for photosynthesis, but since the Underground doesn’t have sun, then the plants get sick and magic heals them. But the problem with that theory is that the plants in the Underground don’t have monsters just… feeding them magic all the time, so where do they get it from? Plants on the surface get nutrients when other plants or animals decay and put their elements back into the soil, but monsters turn to dust, so does their magic go back into the ground, too?”

“...no.” Axe told you. “...there is no… magic in dust. ...it’s only in… our souls… and those will disappear… if exposed to the air… for too long.”

“But where does it  _ go? _ ” you asked. Axe shrugged and you chewed on the pen in thought. Where did magic come from in the first place? You were familiar with the general cycle of life - plants were eaten by animals, who then died, then the plants essentially ate the animals after decay. How did the Underground have that cycle if a monster’s magic just… disappeared?

You bit the pen in frustration, wishing you had more knowledge of the Underground itself. “Pap told me… that things grow better in Waterfall,” you mumbled. “Axe, you said that things don’t really grow in The Ruins. Red, does anything grow in District 3? In Hotland?”

“hell no,” he answered, looking very confused by everything you were saying. “it’s all heat ‘n stone. there ‘r rivers of lava literally running through th’ cities.”

“That makes sense, then,” you nodded. “The Ruins are perpetual winter, so plants should have a hard time there, too…. but isn’t there a big forest there? Why do those trees grow and not other plants? I feel like if magic can heal starving plants then they could heal frozen ones… but then why not burnt ones?” you jotted another idea into your notebook before turning back to the guys. “What about District 1? Do things grow in Snowdin?”

“couldn’ tell yeh,” Red shrugged. “I didn’ exactly leave Fell City all too much.”

“I’ll ask Pap and Sans about that, then,” you muttered, adding to your notes as another thought occurred to you, “and Mutt and Milord about Waterfall, once they’re not overwhelmed with the breach. Do you think you guys could tell me all you can about The Ruins and Hotland?”

“...what do you… want to know?” Axe asked, tilting his skull at you as you flipped to a fresh page in your notebook.

“Everything you can tell me,” You circled around the bed and crawled up onto it, seating yourself near the headboard. The guys turned and slowly adjusted themselves until the four of you sat in a rough circle. “Do you have night and day cycles, for one. You told me that it’s always winter in The Ruins and always snows, but are there other kinds of weather in the Underground? What kind of plants grow there besides trees, and where would you find them?”

“it... only remember snow,” Butch said softly, the tip of his finger picking at one of his broken teeth. “it always was falling… through that hole in our old house.”

“...and we kind of… had a day and night,” Axe added. “...it never was… bright like… the surface, but… the crystals… would change so it was almost like… twilight or night.”

Butch tried to help with the explanation, by telling you about the little of the pine forest he saw through the old windows of their house, but having never really left the house itself, most of the explanation fell to Axe.

The part of The Ruins they lived in was mostly forest. Thick, towering pine trees obscured most of the landscape that Axe had claimed as his territory. There was a river that ran through it, but it was dangerous. The shoreline was mostly ice and buried beneath the snow, so it looked to be a lot thinner at first glance, but he had fallen through the ice on more than one occasion while foraging and had to shortcut out to save himself from the undertow and rocks. It was worth the risk, he said. Sometimes he would find really good things along the banks, like small thorn bushes beneath the snow, covered with tart, red berries, or on a very rare occasion, a water sausage among the ice.

Beyond the edge of that forest were old, crumbling stone structures. Axe told you that he had spent a long time exploring them, slowly delving deeper and deeper into what he described as a spiraling labyrinth of old buildings. Most of what he found to eat was there, growing under the mounds of snow hidden in the forgotten rooms.

“...I tried to teach… Butch how to… find his way around there.” Axe smiled over at Butch, his red light shining over his grin. “...I used to… try to draw maps… in the snow in our house… remember? ...when you… were little.”

Butch chuckled softly, matching Axe’s grin. “yeah... you were terrible at drawing. I never could make sense… of your squiggles.”

“...you were always… way better at that. ...you used to practice… in the snow all the time… and got so excited… to show me what you did… when I came home.” Axe let out a short bark of laughter and his grin widened. “...remember when… you tried to sculpt our house… and you used all those… pieces of pine cone… to try and make the roof? ...it stuck up everywhere and… I got mad that you were… playing with our food.”

Butch flushed gold and shied away, but that didn’t stop his grin from growing, too. Red sat between them, his skull turning from side to side as he listened. His crimson lights flickered with confusion and you could tell by the tension in his shoulders that he felt uncomfortable.

“yeh ate pine cones?” he asked, his rough tone tempered somewhat with astonishment.

“not… all of it.” Butch chuckled softly. “Axe used to… bring a bunch of cones home for me… and I would peel the hard stuff away… to get at the seeds inside.”

“Pine nuts!” you scribbled down a note on at the bottom of your filled page, then flipped to a new one.

“I didn’ know yeh could eat that shit.” Red grumbled softly, his fingers coming up to pull at the white fur lining of his hood.

“...it wasn’t much,” Axe shrugged, “...but even a little… went a long way.”

“what’s Hotland… like?” Butch asked Red, his white lights shining with curiosity. “if nothing grows… how did you… find things to eat?”

“eh… imports.” Red pulled his hood further over his skull, trying to hide from Axe and Butch’s expectant gazes. “from Waterfall, mostly. but none a that shit was cheap, yeh had teh earn every mouthful yeh got.”

“what’s lava…?” Butch looked between his two older brothers for an explanation. “is it… some kind of… water?”

“thick, fire water,” Red said, his tone unsure as he frowned. “I think.”

“Lava is molten rock,” you explained, remembering the lack of education in the Underground from Red’s poor description, and their eye lights all fell on you. “It’s superheated by the Earth’s core, and is usually found closer to the surface in volcanoes. Although,” you added, trying to recall what little you had learned about it in middle and high school, “I think lava is what they call it when it reaches the surface. If it’s underground, then it’s called magma. But that stuff is ridiculously hot. How did you stand the heat, living there?”

“I ain’t bothered by it,” Red shrugged. “if yeh can’t stand heat, yeh don’ live in the cities. most all th’ monsters there ‘r lizardfolk ‘er some kinda fire elemental.”

“...what do… the cities look like?” Axe asked. Red looked surprised by the question, but sat back and thought about it.

The cities of Hotland were tall, clustered buildings built on top of one another on jets of stone overlooking the lakes of magma. Small rivers of molten rock might run through them, as was the case with Fell City, but all of the buildings were made of black, porous stone that was mined from the walls during expansion and was resistant to heat. Sometimes a dark, heavy metal was used to reinforce the base of buildings against earthquakes. Windows, if they existed, were made of a thin, translucent purple crystal.

“Tungsten and… obsidian?” you asked Red, making notes as he spoke. He shrugged at you and you put a question mark next to the words, along with a reminder to look into that, too. “I remember from high school that tungsten is resistant to heat and obsidian is also known as volcanic glass…” You looked up at Red, at the clothes he was wearing, and felt a twinge of fear. He must’ve caught on fire a lot. Even if skeletons didn’t mind extreme hot or cold, that had to have hurt.

Red noticed your gaze, your spike of emotion, and held up his sleeve to show you. “it’s fire-proof, Doll.” he said with a smirk. “yeh don’ wear shit there if it burns up.”

“Is that why it’s so heavy?” You asked, your eyes widening in understanding. “My dad had a jacket like that, too, that he kept at the station for work. He let me try it on once, when I was little, but I buckled under the weight of it.”

“...what did your old home… look like?” Axe asked, laying down on his stomach and propping his skull up with his hands to watch you. You started at the question, at the intense curiosity the three brothers were giving you.

“Oh, um,” you fidgeted with your pen, feeling like where you lived was nothing as impressive as these foreign worlds they had described. “I lived in the suburbs outside of the city at the bottom of the mountain. Our house was in a cul de sac, surrounded by neighbors and their houses and lawns. It was mostly quiet, but the highway wasn’t too far from us and you could hear the cars at night if you stuck your head out of the window.” You chuckled, thinking back on your childhood home. “My mom and dad used to spend their weekends outside. Dad would spend most of his time on our lawn or fixing his truck while my mom tended to the flower garden she had. Heh, I remember one time when I was a freshman in high school, I tried sneaking out at night to drink beer with my friends in the park. I fell on top of one of those rose bushes. The thorns tore up my legs and arms and I couldn’t stop swearing… I woke up my parents and they grounded me for two weeks.”

“th’ fuck’s a highway?” Red asked, leaning back and propping himself up on his arms. “‘er a cul de sac?”

“It’s, um, a highway is a big road just for cars, since they’re travelling at high speeds, and a cul de sac is a dead end road with a group of houses along it.” You said, your fingers finding the stitched poppies on your dress to pick at. You had no doubt that they had just as many questions as you did about the places everyone had once lived, and you really liked that everyone was talking about it. From what you could guess, the brothers had never brought up their old Districts to each other. “Hey guys… would you all want to spend the night here tonight?” You asked, hoping that they would accept. “I’d like to hear more about the Underground and I’ll tell you more about my city, too, if you’d like.”

“I’d like that…” Butch said almost immediately, smiling shyly at you. Axe thought about the offer a bit more, his eye light glancing over at Red, before he nodded that he was okay with that, too.

“yer bed ain’t big enough fer four of us,” Red growled.

“I suppose,” you mumbled, looking down at the full mattress which, when you were alone, seemed so big and empty. “Wait, what if we slept on the floor?” You asked, perking up. “We could get cushions from the couch again, and make a bigger space!”

“again….?” Butch’s white lights widened with surprise as you got off the mattress, setting your pen and notebook on a bookshelf while you examined the space available.

“Sure! Red had that idea when we were drinking with Mutt and Sans the night of the storm,” you said excitedly, guessing that there was more than enough space to build the sea of cushions again. “And this time, I won’t have to wake up in the dead of night to throw up, so that’s always a plus.”

Axe and Butch both turned their eye lights towards Red, who flushed a slight crimson and got up from the bed to get away from their gazes.

“fine,” Red growled, stomping towards the stairs. “but I get middle this time, Doll.”

“I’ll go… help,” Butch offered, sliding off the edge of the bed and scurrying after Red, leaving you and Axe alone.

Axe stared down at his copper colored slippers, his red eye light wavering. “...when did,” he said slowly, carefully, “...you and Red… get so close?”

“It, uh, it’s been a long work in progress,” you said softly, sitting back on the bed near him. A spike of worry filled you. You and Axe had just made up, would he be upset enough about this to start avoiding you again? “I was trying to be friends with him for a long time, but… he doesn’t open up well. That night of the storm… he finally worked up the courage to tell me his story and I… at some point, I want to tell him mine, too. I already told him I would.”

“...have you… marked him?” Axe asked, his red light coming up to hold your gaze. You shook your head, your stomach starting to twist into nervous knots.

“I know he’s interested,” you mumbled, turning pink and looking down towards your feet. “We’ve already talked about it, and I told him he has to wait. I have to talk to you guys about him, first off, and I wanted him to show you guys that he would be a good fit, too. Not to mention,” you hesitated, hoping that you were doing the right thing and it wouldn’t cause another fight, “I need time to introduce Pap to you guys. I marked him last night, during our date and… I wanted to have a meeting today with everyone to tell you guys properly, but with Milord gone…”

Axe nodded. His silence caused your stomach to clench painfully and his light glanced at your chest.

“...I’m not mad,” he said, offering you a half smile. “...how could you… tell me about Pap… when I was avoiding you? ...and I like him. ...even if… I like to tease him.” His hand found yours and he laced his fingers around your digits. “...I already said… he was okay. ...he’s honest and… generous, even if… he’s a bit strict about food. ...and…” Axe sighed, his light glancing at the stairs. He squeezed your hand gently and mumbled, “...I’m sorry. ...for… putting so much pressure… on you.”

“Axe, you don’t have to be sorry about anything, I-” you started to say, but Axe held up a hand and cut off your words.

“...no, I should be.” Axe glanced again at the stairs, then his red light held your gaze. “...I’m not sorry… for getting upset, but… I should have… talked to you. ...when Butch and I were… cleaning our room… he made told me… I’m not being fair. ...you’re unlike any alpha… I’ve ever known. ...your rules were made to keep harmony and… you spend so much energy… worrying about us. ...about what we think and… how we feel. ...it wasn’t fair of me… to push you and Butch together or… try to control him and… Butch thinks… it was really manipulative of me… to make you feel like I wouldn’t love you… if you couldn’t control Edge. ...none of us can do that and… Butch is right. ...so… I’m sorry.”

You just nodded, unable to speak past the lump in your throat, and squeezed his hand tightly to try and silently show your appreciation. Axe must’ve felt your intent, because he gently pulled you into his embrace and nuzzled the crook of your neck.

“...love you… Willow,” he said quietly, kissing your cheek while your eyes burned. “...and if… I can… I want to… make it up to you.”

You nodded again, your face wet as you kissed him back. “I love you too, Axe. ...thank you.”

The two of you heard Red and Butch return before you saw them, mainly because Red was storming up the stairs, a cushion in each fist, while Butch called out to him from the bottom of the steps.

“th’ fuck ‘r yeh doin’ teh her?!” Red snarled, his crimson lights narrowed at Axe. He chucked a cushion at Axe and it knocked him back onto the bed. “why th’ fuck is she cryin, yeh fuckin’ weasel!?”

“Red, wait, it’s okay!” you got up from the bed and put yourself between them, your hands up to stop Red from pouncing. “Please don’t fight. I promise, it’s okay.”

Red paused, his expression so obviously frustrated, while behind him Butch finally shoved the last of the cushions up the narrow steps. He froze, his torso only half visible past the gap in the floor, and his white lights darted between the three of you. Red growled and threw the other cushion at you, albeit much more gently. It only knocked the wind out of you. He shot Axe another withering glare before turning back towards the pile Butch had brought up. Red kicked at a cushion and sent it flying into the wall while he grumbled under his breath.

“so you… said it?” Butch asked Axe quietly. Axe sat up and nodded. Butch beamed at him, a large, lopsided smile on his skull. You mouthed a quiet ‘thank you’ to Butch as you passed him on your way to Red. Maybe Axe didn’t want you to feel like you had to try so hard with Edge, but you really owed it to Butch to still put your all into it.

Red had thrown a pair of cushions onto the floor by the time you reached him. You placed a gentle hand on his back, feeling him bristle at your touch. His skull snapped around to look who had touched him and, seeing it was you, Red grabbed you and pulled you down onto the cushions atop him. He held you tightly to his chest, both of your legs hanging off onto the floor. 

“yeh make her cry again,” Red growled at Axe, his ribs vibrating beneath you, “an’ I’m gonna fuckin’ deck yeh.”

Axe held his cushion to his chest, his red light flickering as he stared down at the two of you. Then, to your great surprise, he tilted his skull back and filled the room with his slow, tumbling laughter.

“th’ fuck’s so funny?” Red growled darkly, squeezing the air out of you as his sockets started to darken. “yeh think I’m jokin’?”

“Red, I was happy,” you wheezed, poking him on his ribs to grab his attention. “Those were happy tears.”

“who th’ fuck cries when they’re happy?” Red snapped, his angry expression slowly turning into a bewildered one while Axe cackled in the background.

“...hey, Willow,” Axe laughed, wiping at a bit of red plasma that had accumulated at the corner of his good socket. “...I approve.”

“th’ fuck yeh mean yeh…” Red trailed off, his crimson lights popping back into life in his sockets in shock. He sat up quickly, letting you roll into his lap, while he looked between you and Axe. “no way. no fuckin’ way!”

“I… do too,” Butch added, joining Axe with his own soft, lilting laughter. “even though… I’m not… yet.”

“this fuckin’ asshole?!”

You couldn’t help but laugh too, stuffing your fist in your mouth to muffle the noise.

“kinda bullshit is this!?”

“...was that… bragging?” Axe asked, a mischievous grin stretching across his skull. Red snarled and chucked another cushion at him.

~~~

Birdsong tickled your ears and you cracked your eyes open to a blurry mess of white bone, black and blue cloth, and cream colored sheets. You blinked a few times, your vision sharpening to reveal Axe’s sleeping form silhouetted in the sunlight pouring into the room at his back. Your head slowly rose and fell atop Red’s chest as he breathed deeply beneath you, and as you shifted slightly you felt Axe and Butch’s hands slide down your back.

Carefully, you moved yourself until you could push yourself up without crushing anyone beneath you. It was a bit harder than when you had slept in the living room like this. Butch and Axe liked to cuddle close when they slept, and Red taking up the middle hadn’t stopped that habit. There was barely any room for your knees as you raised yourself off of Red, your sheet sliding across their sleeping forms while you rose like a ghost to your feet.

You rubbed at your eyes and draped the sheet back over them. Axe and Butch, without you there to hold, scooted instead until Red was sandwiched firmly between them. You smiled softly, taking a moment to appreciate their peaceful expressions before starting your day.

There was no rush as you picked through your dresser for your outfit. You took your time as you perused your new bookshelf, wondering what you should bring with you for the day. You had only one exam at two, for clinical psychology, and it would be nice to have a backpack that didn’t feel like it was filled with bricks. It would be easier to carry around while you petitioned.

Wearing a black sweater dress and purple, thigh high socks, you looked around for your phone to text Abby. It would be nice to invite her along, or even meet her early in the library after you printed off your paper for your clinical exam, but then you remembered it was downstairs in a bowl of rice. You yawned deeply, stretching your arms out, and wondered about the time. It was definitely early.

You slung your mostly empty backpack over your shoulder and pulled the band out of your messy, bedhead braid. You ran your fingers through it as you descended the many stairs towards the kitchen, enjoying the waves your hair had made.

You left your bag on the table while you slowly bustled around to make coffee. You had already put two mugs on the counter and had scooped out two measurements worth of espresso before the bitter smell of the grounds woke you up. You didn’t need two mugs. Milord wasn’t home yet. With a heavy sigh, you slowly put one of the mugs back and dumped the grounds back into the bag to re-measure. Even if he came home right now, he wouldn’t want coffee. He would want to sleep. If he didn’t, you knew you would make him take a nap at the very least.

While you watched the water boil on the stove you debated on if you should make breakfast. You didn’t usually have time during the school week, you were used to not eating any, and it seemed rude to you to make something just for yourself and not the rest of the house. With a small huff, you went to the rice bowl to check on your phone. Thankfully, you had acted fast enough last night and it turned back on with a cheery chime. A small sigh of relief escaped you. It would have been very expensive to buy a replacement.

You sat at the table with your plain americano, taking Abby’s advice and sticking strictly to coffee without any added sugar to help manage a healthier diet. You shuddered at the bitter espresso, already missing the creamy cut of milk, but took another sip as you stubbornly stuck to your decision. Without any company, you pulled one of your textbooks from your bag and flipped to a page to review. It was better than staring at the empty chair across from you.

They would be home tonight, your sleepy mind assured you. Call it a gut feeling, or a wish. Whatever it was, you just had to get through today by doing the best you could.

_ ‘Explain,’ _ the practice question before you read,  _ ‘through the definition of Rogerian therapy in regardance to Humanistic psychology, what three basic requirements are needed by a client, from their clinician, to feel therapeutic improvement. Provide examples of basic application of these requirements.’ _

That was easy, you told yourself as you sipped your americano. “Congruence, unconditional positive regard, and empathetic understanding,” you said to yourself, more to fill the silence than anything.

“trying to psych yourself up? or are you just taking a personality test?” a low voice asked. You jumped in your seat, nearly spilling your coffee, and found Sans standing beneath the archway. He had his hands stuffed into the pockets of his blue hoodie and a lazy smile sat beneath his foggy, white eye lights.

“Oh, good morning!” you said, quickly recovering. “I didn’t know you were up. Are you… feeling okay?” you asked, starting to worry. Sans was never up early. “Did you have another nightmare?”

“I’m fine,” Sans shrugged. He slowly sauntered over and sank into the chair next to you with a tired sigh. “no nightmares; I haven’t slept yet. I’ve been… doing things.”

“Care to share?” you asked, quirking your eyebrow at him. You offered him your mug and he politely declined.

“nah, I have a few more things to do,” he said vaguely, making you wonder even more about what kept him up. “first off, for this morning, I need to talk to you before you head off to school.”

“About what?” you asked slowly, unsure of what he could possibly want to talk about this early.

“not much.” Sans rubbed the base of his palm into his socket. “you’ve been having money problems again, haven’t you?”

“No,” you said quickly, flushing pink and turning your gaze back towards your book. “I mean, I have a tight budget, but I’m fine.”

“don’t nickel and dime it, Thyme, I know you need things you’re not asking for,” Sans tilted his skull, his expression tired and his tone impatient. He reached inside his hoodie and pulled out a small, navy, steel card and a folded piece of paper and handed them both to you. You took them, confused, then recognized the metal card as a-

“Sans, I won’t take your credit card,” you insisted, pushing it back into his hand. “No, I can’t, you pay me more than you should anyways!”

“it’s not a credit card, it’s a debit card, and it’s not mine. it’s yours,” Sans stuffed the metal card back into your hand and closed your fingers around it. “look, I know you have this weird hangup when it comes to asking for things, so now you don’t have to. I know I’m not always aware of when I am, so now you have this and you don’t have to feel guilty for asking for a paycheck. just use it for whatever you need. it’s connected to the family account and you can pick up stuff for yourself, pay for school, or buy gardening tools. I don’t care.”

“But I-”

“just take it.” Sans said firmly, his hand pulling at his tired expression. “you’re not going to drain our account, not with how frugal you are. hell, you could go on a shopping spree and it wouldn’t make a dent. Gold doesn’t matter to us.”

“It matters to me,” you argued. “I know you’re loaded, but you worked hard to get what you have. What Queen Slians gave you is your retirement fund, Sans, and I don’t want to spend Milord or Edge’s hard earned money, either.”

“I’m the one who manages the family budget, Thyme, and there’s more than enough for you too. The gold belongs to all of us and Milord doesn’t care if you spend what he makes. I already asked him. and do you seriously think any of the others will tell you no?”

“What about Edge?” you asked meekly, already knowing that you were fighting a losing battle.

“the way he sees it,” Sans said patiently, “you’re not touching what’s his. he might share the account with us, but he knows he could withdraw everything he’s made at any time. he just chooses not to since he’s terrible with money and he knows it’s safer with me, even if he won’t admit it.”

“Um…” you muttered, your finger tracing the raised writing across the card. It lacked a number, probably for security reasons, but there was a single piece of incorrect information on it next to your first name. “My… my last name isn’t ‘Gaster’. That’s yours.”

“it’s easier to add you to the account if it is; you’re family too.” Sans shrugged. Heat filled your cheeks, following the rush of affection and gratitude that came with that statement and his gesture with the card. “Mutt took care of all the fine print and I’m just letting him do what he thinks is best.”

“What do you mean?” you asked. Sans waved the question away.

“which brings me to my second point,” Sans tapped the piece of paper and you opened it up to see an address. “I need you to go to this address and get something up for me. it’s listed under a false name, Tobi Gaster, but I’m not human so I can’t go down the mountain to pick it up. can you do that?”

“Sure, I-” you paused, staring at the navy card again with a mixture of gratitude and embarrassment. “Thank you,” you said softly, watching Sans pull your bag closer and fish around inside. “I won’t abuse this card, Sans, I promise.”

“just as long as you promise not to deprive yourself, too.” Sans pulled your wallet out of your bag, took the card from you, and slipped it inside before tossing the lot back inside your bag. “and now we come to my last point. do you mind guests?”

“No, why would I mind?” you said, a little taken aback by his question.

“this is your house, too,” Sans grinned at you. “you have a say and, thankfully, with you here, we also have a tie-breaker since having you makes nine.”

“I don’t mind at all,” you mumbled bashfully, turning pink again and feeling a fresh wave of gratitude. Even if it was something small like deciding on a guest, knowing you had a say in house politics only further cemented your feeling of belonging at Lane 66. “Who’s coming?”

“if the others are okay with it, Undyne.” Sans said. “Pap and I were talking about it after dinner. I haven’t asked anyone else yet, but you leave so early in the day I had to ask you first.”

“Undyne?” you repeated, your eyes wide. “But… I thought monsters had to have a visa to visit the surface?”

“they do, why do you think I’ve been up all night?” Sans grinned at you, a hint of mischief in his eye lights. “I had to call in a few favors to get it approved. pull some strings, talk Undyne into it… but it would mean a lot to Pap to have her here. he doesn’t want her by herself while she deals with the news about her sister. since he can’t go to her and Alphys can’t get away from work... Alphys is her girlfriend,” Sans added, seeing your confused look. “and since she’s the only Royal Scientist, it’s not like she can just call in a substitute.”

“Undyne can use my room, if she wants it,” you offered. “I don’t know how long she wants to stay or when she’s coming, but I can come back tonight and clean it up for her.”

“you are an absolute angel,” Sans sighed happily, sinking into his chair with relief. “I was gonna clean out Axe’s room, since we’ve been using it for storage, but that’s so much easier. do you want to share mine while she’s here? or would you rather ask one of your betas?”

“Depending on how long she’s here,” you giggled, enjoying Sans’ blissful expression from the thought of not having to clean, “I should probably do both. If I spend too many nights in a row with you the others might get jealous. it’s really sweet of you to offer, though.”

“fair enough,” Sans shrugged. He yawned and stared off at the far wall, and you felt guilty for what you wanted to ask of him when he was so obviously exhausted.

“Sans?” you murmured, drawing his gaze. “I know you’re tired but… do you think you could walk me down to the bus stop?”

“I could give you a shortcut, if you like.”

“I, um, was more so hoping for the company,” you said, a small bubble of unease growing in your stomach. You didn’t want to be alone outside, not after you wandered off into the woods. Sans eyed you, your soul spot, and then he glanced at the lone mug on the table.

“sure, what’s another twenty minutes awake?” Sans smiled at you, showing you that it was no problem at all.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ah, I love the smell of a new post and coffee in the morning. 'er... afternoon, maybe, for you guys, but with my sleep schedule 3pm might as well be 3am for me. :T
> 
> Two little things for you lovelies: One, I'm looking at doing a second Teatime QnA with the skeleboys! This time around will feature Sans, Mutt, Butch, and Red, so please direct your questions at them. And, just like last time, please try to refrain from questions that might be of the spoiler variety. If you're not sure, feel free to ask anyway, but then please understand if I omit your question to follow that rule. :) 
> 
> Secondly, on a very, very small note, I got an instagram now. I'll post the URL below, feel free to check it out. It's still new, but I plan on using it to provide news in between updates and, if I can get the motivation, I'll post some drawings for y'all to enjoy.
> 
> Have a wonderful day, everyone. Thank you for reading and stay healthy! <3
> 
> https://www.instagram.com/oolongteacup426/?hl=en


	32. Ch 30 - Hey Shelby

Ch 30 - Hey Shelby

“So this is, like, gonna set all the monsters free?”

“It’s the first step,” you said to the student in front of you. Their nose ring flashed in the sunlight as they looked over your clipboard and its signatures, the heavy, black liner on their eyelids shifted as they glanced back up at you in disbelief. Their headphones were cocked on their shaved head, bleeding the heavy bass of some EDM song into the air. “They may have the entirety of Mt. Ebott as the base for their country, but changing the law would allow them to travel the world freely and-”

“Don’t they like, eat people?” They asked, picking at your pen with a black nail. You took a small breath, trying to hold onto your patience as you answered that question for the billionth time that day.

“No, they don’t eat people. They’re primarily vegetarian,” you said, glancing around for Abby to help you. You may have had just the one student to talk to, but Abby was almost a dozen feet away and surrounded by a small group. She laughed loudly, tossing her carefully curled, blonde hair over her shoulder as she batted her glittery eyelashes at one of the many guys near her. Rolling your eyes, you turned your attention back to the student speaking with you. “Anyway, this would be the first step towards getting them rights among human civilization. They deserve that, they’re not so different from humans if you look past their shape. They’re intelligent and are just as emotionally and culturally complex. If you sign this petition, we can get a monster onto campus to answer more of your questions and you can see for yourself that they deserve basic rights, too.”

The student raised an eyebrow at you and adjusted their backpack over their black overalls. They chewed at their dark plum lipstick, their expression skeptical.

“They don’t eat people,” you pressed, fighting to catch the student’s attention again as they looked over their shoulder towards the commons building and the warm aroma of food that drifted over on the crisp spring air. “Besides, the petition is just the first step. The law won’t change right away after we get a new bill in motion: there will have to be a debate in office once it’s introduced to the government and then it will be officially voted on. But it  _ will _ allow one of their ambassadors to come down from the mountain, legally, to speak to us and answer questions. Shouldn’t we give them a chance to prove themselves? Shouldn’t you get a chance to hear the truth for yourself from one of them, and not just hear-say, when you vote on the freedom of a new nation?”

Though they continued to look skeptical, they signed your clipboard and handed it back to you before heading towards the commons building with their black, studded boots sending ripples through the puddles on the sidewalk. You smiled, thanked them as they walked away, and looked at the clipboard and at the mostly filled page filled with signatures. Loopy or scrawled, chicken scratch or carefully lettered, each name was a person willing to give the Underground a chance and you swelled with excitement and pride for your species.

Your eyes scanned the wide, concrete path and muddy lawn surrounding the commons building. There were few other students on campus today. It was understandable, the only classes in session were the ones holding exams, and the only reason people were on campus was to study or meet friends. You pulled your phone out of your pocket to check the time and, with a small sinking feeling, your empty email inbox. Mutt hadn’t replied yet to you when you asked about his day - he was either still busy or (hopefully) sleeping.

“Abby,” you called out, heading towards the small group that surrounded her. You hesitated, not wanting to interrupt her if she was gathering signatures, but that hesitation quickly evaporated when the chatter you overheard involved plans for spring break; not monster rights. You held your phone up for her to see, adding, “It’s almost one, do you want to grab some lunch?”

Abby waved at you, showing she had heard you, and turned back to the tall, wiry guy she was speaking to. His long curly hair was tied back in a ponytail and you recognized the longboard in his hand from the day you and Abby had the video call with Sans. Abby laughed again at something he said, coaxing a broad smile from him. They exchanged phones for a moment while you silently started to simmer. The rest of the crowd, seeing you vye for Abby’s attention, parted and offered Abby invitations to hang out later that week as she passed them by.

“Hey, sweetie,” Abby brushed her curls out of her face, her face a wide grin as she handed her clipboard over to you and pocketed her phone. “Not a bad day, huh? If you’re done with exams early, I heard from Stephan that there’s this awesome party they’re already setting up for thirsty Thursday over at his frat-”

“Abby,” you interrupted, staring down at her list. “I can appreciate that you have a social life, but you barely got more signatures than I did.”

“It’s a slow day, those are bound to happen during exams,” Abby countered, her phone appearing out of the pocket of her pink, velvet tracksuit again so she could check her messages. “People are busy, sweetie, the traffic just isn’t there.”

“You’ve literally had  _ three times _ the amount of people talk to you than me,” you sighed, trying to let go of your irritation. You chewed at your lip, watching her focus on her phone, before putting your hand over it. “Abby, you’re better with people than I am. I need your help if we’re going to make the 30 day deadline. This is important; it would mean a lot more if you got signatures rather than phone numbers.”

“We have after spring break to catch up, it’s not a big deal.” Abby snipped and pocketed her phone with a huff. “It’s not like I’m not trying, I just don’t know as much as you do about monsters or the dumb law. You made me promise not to tell anyone about Sans, and I’m just keeping my end of the deal. There’s only so much I can do to convince people when I can’t tell them why.”

“It’s going to be hard no matter what. That’s why we need to try and convince anyone who’s willing to listen-”

“They’re not all talking to me because I’m the ‘monster girl’ on campus! Those are people I know from the other sports teams or from class. People who want to have fun and make plans-”

“We have a  _ time limit!” _ you hissed, your eyes narrowing at the nickname she used for you, unsure if that was supposed to sting or not. “The Underground can’t wait for us to- to party and flirt! You said you’d help me!”

“I need a break!” Abby snapped back at you. “All we do when we’re together is go to class or study or get signatures! Why can’t we just… go to the mall or have a spa day? Jeezus, no wonder you were always by yourself, you don’t know how to have any fun! It’s always work with you! So what if we can’t make the deadline? Just start another petition and-”

“No!” you held the clipboards to your chest, glaring at her. “It was hard enough getting these, I’m not starting all over again! The freedom of countless monsters depends on this!”

“No one  _ asked _ you to do this!”

“Yeah, no one asked.”

You and Abby paused at the gruff tone, letting your argument fall away as a stocky guy with a buzz cut and camouflage jacket approached you. He had his hands stuffed in his pockets and his square jaw was set in a scowl. You felt yourself bristle at the sight of him, he was the last person you ever wanted to see or talk to.

“Ugh, what the hell do you want, Cam?” Abby spat, her glossy top lip lifting slightly as though she had smelled something rotten. “I told you to stay away from me.”

“Don’t flatter yourself, barbie,” Cam rolled his eyes before setting his stony gaze on you. “I’m here to tell monster girl she needs to knock her shit off.”

“Excuse me?” you growled, your grip tightening on the pens in your hand.

“I said, knock your shit off!” Cam raised his voice, drawing the attention of Abby’s lingering sports buddies and that of passing students. “You’re trying to invite a bunch of man-eaters down the mountain! Oh, wipe that fucking look off your faces, it’s not some big secret!”

“Good, I’m glad it’s not!” You held the pile of signatures protectively against your chest. So that’s why so many people asked you that same question. You might be fighting for rights, but Cam was fighting, too. “People deserve to know and care about what happens to the Underground, and not because some fear-mongering asshole like you keeps telling them they’re going to be eaten! You have no proof they do that!”

“Yeah, I do!” Cam shouted, his face reddening with anger as you held your ground against him, glaring defiantly back as he tried to step forward and tower over you. “My uncle’s a cop, he was there when that family out in the country got eaten! It wasn’t wild animals like the news said, it was a fucking monster and you know it, you freak!”

“If you’re uncle’s a cop-” a voice cut in. You turned, recognizing the black overalls and studded boots of the student you had talked to. “-wouldn’t he have body and dash cams? The cops post videos all the time online. Something with monsters would go viral.”

“E-exactly!” you stammered, your heart pounding in your chest from adrenaline. Your nerves were steeled from gratitude, both for the other student’s point and for Mutt’s talent with manipulating information. You knew that Cam was telling a partial truth, that some monsters  _ were _ willing to eat people, but only those that suffered from Feralism. Those monsters were sick, starving, and were after the magic humans carried in their souls, not the flesh housing it. “Stop trying to scare people, Cam, you have no idea what you’re talking about!”

“Oh, and you do?!” Cam shoved you, trying to rip the clipboards from you with that same motion. “You know that smartass skeleton tried to pay off the cops!” You held onto the boards tightly and scuffled with him, trying to keep those filled pages safe to your chest. “They  _ want _ that incident swept under the rug! They  _ want us to let them in! _ ” 

The spectators watched, their mouths agape, as Abby grabbed your elbow and tried to pull you away. 

“Just leave us alone, you fucking bully!”

“For once in your life, keep your nose out of shit you don’t understand!” Cam snapped at Abby, rounding on her as you tripped over your boots and hit the ground hard. “You know what’s going to happen with this? If monsters come down the mountain? They’re going to make us think they’re harmless and worm their way into the city, then they’re going to eat us all like fucking sheep!”

“They’re vegetarian!” Abby countered weakly, shrinking back as Cam towered over her.

“You’re so fucking stupid, believing whatever gossip floats your way!” Cam stepped forward, jabbing his finger in Abby’s face as she cowered. “You think a bunch of monsters with  _ sharp teeth and fangs _ are going to eat fucking  _ salads?  _ No wonder you’re failing most of your classes, with all the dumb ideas you come up with! _ ” _

Your eyes caught the smallest flinch from Abby as Cam continued to shout at her, berating her in front of the growing crowd of watching students. Your blood boiled at that tiny motion, that reflex as Abby prepared herself. You got to your feet, the clipboard abandoned on the ground, and shoved yourself between Cam and Abby with a hard elbow into Cam’s sternum. Abby slipped in a puddle, whimpering as she landed hard on the cement.

“Leave her alone, you jackass!” You snarled, one hand flying to the pocket of your leather jacket to search. Your pepper spray wasn’t there. A small flash of memory reminded you it had rolled away into the mud in the misty woods. Despite being unarmed, you balled your hands into fists, like your dad had once showed you so long ago, and raised them up in front of you to defend yourself if he tried to hit you again. “We have every right to be here! Stop harassing us and leave!”

“That’s a good idea, mate,” One of Abby’s friends, a large guy in a football jersey and built like a whiskey barrel, finally stepped in and held his thick arm out to put himself in front of you and Abby. He glared at Cam, his expression stony. “Don’t want to make a fool of yourself, do ya?”

Cam’s eyes widened slightly as the rest of the guys came to join the big one. One sidled up in front of you protectively, cracking his knuckles threateningly, while Cam’s gaze darted between them.

“You better stop this,” Cam growled, his glare directed between the guys at you. “You’re going to get us all killed if they’re let off the mountain.”

“I’m not stopping,” you said, returning his glare as you helped Abby off the ground. “You don’t scare me, Cam.”

As soon as she was on her feet, Abby pushed you away and ran; tears clung onto the ends of her glittery lashes. You and half a dozen others called out to her as she bolted for the commons building. Shooting the dirtiest look you could muster at Cam, you snatched the clipboards off the ground, snagged yours and Abby’s backpacks, and raced after her.

She was insanely fast. By the time you had made it into the building to find her, she was nowhere in sight. No wonder she was on the track team. You asked a couple exchanging notes and sharing a burrito bowl if they had seen a girl in all pink and they helpfully directed you down the far stairs.

A group of guys playing a game of Magic: The Gathering outside of the underground cafe pointed you towards the empty hall were the art students gathered. A quick peek inside the study studios and a distinct lack of pink showed you that Abby wasn’t there and, guessing, you ducked inside the woman’s bathroom near the backdoor of the campus convenience store.

“Abby?” you said to the room of dingy tile, the smell of cheap aerosol perfume and acrylic paint residue in the sinks making your nose crinkle. You heard her sob in one of the far stalls and knocked on the locked door, gently calling out to her again. “Abby, it’s okay, I think your friends drove that jerk off. Are you alright?”

“He’s s-such a j-jackass!” Abby sniffed loudly from behind the door. “I c-can’t  _ believe _ he had the balls to find us like that and t-to say all that shit in front of everyone!”

“It wasn’t that bad,” you said softly, trying to be comforting as you leaned against one of the graffitied, tarnished steel dividers between the stalls. “He sounded crazy, spouting all that off with no proof, and made himself out to be an asshole by attacking you like that… Don’t let it get to you, Abby. No one who knows you will believe any of it. You’re not stupid or fake or hi-”

You stopped yourself, before you could repeat any of the insults that rose up in the back of your mind from your own past. Maybe Abby wouldn’t know what it was like to be called a freak, or hideous, or disgusting, but you knew insults hurt no matter where they came from or what they were. One of your hands clenched at your black, thigh high socks, at the scars hidden beneath them, and you turned your head to listen to her crying.

“Your friends don’t believe any of it,” you said firmly. “You’re not fake in any way, and you’re intelligent. Maybe you don’t know the law, but you’re a damn good nutritionist. Do you know where I’d be without you? Probably anemic and super bitchy from cramps if you hadn’t given me those vitamins or that tip about the ginger tea. And you’re… you’re really pretty,” you added, mumbling those words. “Most girls would kill to look like they stepped off a magazine cover and to be as popular as you.”

A small chuckled echoed through the bathroom and you heard her sniffles die down.

“You’re brave, too,” you added, encouraged by the absence of sobbing. “It takes a lot of courage to try and change something about yourself, and you stood up to him for me. You’re helping me change an unfair law even though you know there might be more people like Cam and-”

“Not like you,” Abby said quietly, cutting you off. “You’re the brave one, sweetie. He hit you before and you just… got all up in there and were willing to fight back, weren’t you? I just… fell apart. I was too scared he would-”

“...hit you again?” you asked softly, your heart clenching painfully as you heard her suck in a breath.

“It was just once,” Abby said, the shame in her voice all too clear. “That’s why I left him. I looked like a damn clown with all the makeup I had to wear to cover it up. And I just  _ watched _ that day he hurt you. I… I thought you deserved it and I’m the worst person in the world for thinking that.”

“You’re not that person anymore,” you gently reminded her. Another small chuckle reached you and you heard Abby’s steps moments before she emerged from the stall. She looked like a wreck, her mascara had streaked down her face and the tears had taken some glitter from her lashes with it. You offered her an encouraging smile, grabbed a paper towel, and offered it to her. She gave you a sniff and a grimace as she noticed herself in the mirror.

“Ugh, I look awful,” she lamented, using a single finger and the paper towel to try and wipe away the streaks without ruining what was left. “It’s going to take forever to get the redness out of my eyes.”

“We’ve got time before our exams if we skip lunch. I don’t carry any makeup on me but, knowing you,” you offered her backpack to her, “you do.”

Abby gave you a weak smile and took her bag. That expression quickly slid off her face, replaced by one of guilt. “Hey, sweetie? I’m… sorry I snapped at you like that earlier. You don’t deserve that.”

“It’s okay. We’re all a bit stressed right now, right?”

“I guess, but… still.” Abby dug into her backpack and pulled out a sequin makeup bag to start fixing her face. “I’m just… super tense right now because… Cam’s right. I  _ am _ failing a lot of my classes and Daddy says he’s going to cut me off if I fail any more and have to push back graduation another year. I even thought about dropping Monster Studies since I’m failing and to avoid Cam, but they told me I’d still have a fail on my transcripts if I dropped it this late in the semester... This is my fifth year in college, you know? I can’t come back for a sixth year.”

“What does it matter if you need more time? This is my fifth year, too,” you said, shrugging as you leaned against one of the paint-stained sinks. Abby widened her eyes at you in astonishment and you chuckled, your cheeks flushed pink. “I started school wanting to become a pastry chef,” you admitted shyly, “but I changed my major after my first year and had to start all over, essentially.”

“That’s a pretty big switch,” Abby said, grabbing another paper towel to wipe away her blotchy eyeliner to start anew. “I didn’t know you liked that kind of thing. Why didn’t you stay with it? Did your parents not approve?”

“No, I… think they would’ve…” you mumbled, staring at your feet. “It just… felt wrong.”

Abby paused, a liquid eyeliner brush in between her fingers, and stared at you. You felt your face burn and your nerves stand on edge. Desperate to get away from this subject, you asked, “So, should we report Cam to campus security? That kind of harassment shouldn’t just… We should do something about it, you know?”

“That won’t do anything,” Abby rolled her eyes and stared back at the mirror. “Nothing happened to him after you reported him for hitting you, why would that change just because he talked shit?”

“I… didn’t report him,” you admitted quietly.

“What? Why the hell not?” Abby nearly shouted, rounding on you with indignity. You leaned further against the sink, startled.

“I didn’t want to make a big deal out of it,” you said, holding your hands up defensively. “We were debating monster stuff and it got heated, those things happen. He never came after me again, so I wanted it to just be left at that but… coming after us in public? We didn’t do anything to provoke him. It’s our right to petition, he didn’t have to get so confrontational about it.”

“It’s not going to do anything, even if we did report him,” Abby huffed irritably, waving her hands at her eyes to dry her liner before reaching for the glitter mascara in her bag. “You heard him, his uncle’s a cop. He used to brag all the time when we were together that he could get away with anything because his uncle could get charges dropped. Hell,  _ I _ thought about going straight to Daddy to get back at him after he gave me a black eye but…” Abby’s words fell away and she shrugged, mumbling her next words. “I don’t know… I guess I was… ashamed? To think I was dumb enough to let a guy like that do that to me.”

“Abby, you should never cover something abusive up. It’s not your fault in any way, but what could your dad do?” You asked, raising an eyebrow at her. “Is he the chief of police or something?”

“No, he’s a state senator,” Abby corrected you. “He’s got lawyers that could squeeze blood from a stone but I just… I don’t know… I’m already a disappointment to him, I feel like. I don’t want to let him know just how stupid I am.”

“Do you want to go make a statement together once you fix your makeup?” You asked, placing a comforting hand on Abby’s shoulder. “We should at least file a report with security. We’ve both already given Cam a second chance to leave us alone and he kind of blew it. We can tell them about what happened to you before and I’ll leave you out of what happened to me in Monster Studies-”

Abby shook her head, twisting the cap back on her glitter mascara. “No. I don’t think it’s going to do anything. Harassing us and hurting us are two different things and they won’t care he hit us before. It was too long ago and they’ll think we’re making it up.”

“But we shouldn’t let it get that far again!”

“Yeah, but do you honestly think reporting him is going to help?” Abby moodily stuffed her sequin bag back into her backpack. “His uncle’s a cop, sweetie. If we report him, his uncle is going to see to it that any charges are dropped and knowing we fought back is just going to piss Cam off even more. He’s super vindictive; the best we can do is just avoid him. Why don’t we start petitioning off campus? I’d feel a lot safer if we did that.”

“We shouldn’t allow him to bully us like that!” You pressed, your anger simmering again in your stomach. “Abby, seriously, we can’t just-”

“I just want to forget about it!” Abby huffed, zipping her backpack up roughly and throwing it over her shoulder. The bag smacked against the mirror, making it wobble dangerously against the wall but, thankfully, it didn’t break. “Please, sweetie, can we just… just go to the mall or something after our exams and have some fun? I don’t want to deal with this.”

Your lips pressed together in a thin line. Abby might not be willing to do something about it, but knowing that Cam had struck out against both of you before, and that he didn’t seem to care that he would keep pushing boundaries, made your blood boil. “I guess…” you said reluctantly, deciding to go along with her for now. “I suppose I should get some other pants to do yoga in. Something tells me it might be a little difficult in baggy sweatpants or a dress.”

Abby beamed at you, hugging you tightly after you both had stepped out of the bathroom and into the empty art-study hall. “Ooo! I know the  _ best _ place to get all the latest spring fashions!” she squealed in your ear, dancing with you on the spot. “We can pick out some cute new outfits for you so you’re not wearing all those stuffy dresses all the time! And we can look for a new jacket ‘cuz honestly, sweetie, that big, torn up leather one is  _ not _ flattering for you at all.”

“The jacket stays,” you growled, grabbing onto the tear in the sleeve as she let you go. “And I don’t  _ need _ a new wardrobe, Abby, just some pants to workout in. If I buy anything else, I’m picking up some books on my list and maybe a new monitor for one of the guys since his broke… Or maybe I should wait? I have no idea what kind of stuff he needs for his setup.”

“Stop being so stingy!” Abby waved a hand in the air as you made your way back outside together, a new spring in her step as she thought about the upcoming afternoon. The area of concrete where you had left Cam and Abby’s jock friends was now empty save for the occasional student headed for the commons building. “Jeez, sweetie, no wonder you look like you walked out of a thrift shop if you prioritize  _ books _ .”

“Maybe we can pick up something for you to study with instead of a new pair of designer jeans,” you teased, elbowing her playfully. She rolled her eyes at you. “Don’t give me that! If you bought some study materials it’ll help you pick your grades up before finals.”

“How about this,” Abby grinned mischievously, stopping you by your shoulders as she skipped in front of you. “I’ll let you help me… make up a study schedule or whatever, and  _ you _ let  _ me _ pick out some cute stuff for you!”

“I don’t have that kind of money,” you lied, knowing full well you had the card Sans gave you still in your wallet. But that card wasn’t for giant shopping trips, it was for a few things here or there and things you really needed for your job.

“Pfft, I do!” Abby waved your protest away. “Daddy gave me his platinum card for my allowance. I can buy you a few outfits and he’ll never know!”

“That’s dishonest.”

“Oh come oooon, sweetie! You’d look freaking  _ adorable _ in a flowy top and some shorts once the weather warms up! Please?” Abby pouted, pursing her glossy lips at you in a very effective puppy face. “You let me dress you, I let you go all ‘miss academic’ on me. Think of the look on Pap’s bony face when you show up in some daisy dukes and a pair of strappy heels!”

“I am  _ never _ wearing daisy dukes.” You said firmly.

“You know what I mean.” Abby rolled her eyes again.

You sighed at her. “You really need to prioritize your education.”

“And  _ you _ need to stop dressing like you’re 40!”

“Fine,” you reluctantly agreed, “I’ll let you pick out  _ one _ outfit, but then you have to agree to spend at least an hour in the library every day of the week studying with me  _ without  _ your phone.”

“Only if I get to go shopping with you every week for two new outfits.”

“Abby,” you said seriously, holding her gaze, “I can’t spend money like that. I pay for my own schooling and I have a tight budget. I’ll go to the mall with you every week, but I can’t buy designer clothes and I’m not going to let you use your dad’s card to buy me things, either.”

“Give it time, I’ll break you eventually,” Abby smiled, her eyes shining. “Hey, where are you going?”

“The library,” you lied, giving her a small wave as you started to walk off. “I have some things to print out before my exam. Meet you at three in the commons? I can only be at the mall for an hour or two before I have to run an errand.”

“You’re such a nerd!” Abby called after you affectionately, bouncing on her heels in excitement. You shook your head, smiling, and headed towards the campus security office. She might not want to say anything, but you sure as hell were going to.

~~~

“So, could you explain something to me?” you said, taking a blackberry iced tea you ordered from the mall cafe. Abby raised a penciled eyebrow at you while she sucked on the straw of her icy, blended, pink lemonade. Several bags were already hanging from the crooks of her elbows and you both had taken a moment to sit in the cafe together.

Honestly, you needed the breather. Abby was a veteran shopper and the hour you had spent at the mall had already left you exhausted. To think she still had a dozen stores she wanted to drag you to made your shoulders sag. She was determined to get you a new outfit, but the price tags in all of the stores so far had you flat out refusing her offer.

“Not to be rude,” you said slowly, your gaze focused on the sweaty, clear plastic cup in your hands and the dark purple tea inside, “but if your dad is a senator, how in the world are you struggling with monster studies? He would know the law pretty well, seeing as he had to have voted on it while in office. You could ask him anything and he could tell you a lot more than I could.”

“You don’t know him,” Abby answered, her eyes rolling as she sighed. “I can’t ask him anything about that kind of stuff. I ask one question and I get a three hour lecture about it. And if you ever want an afternoon to yourself, sweetie, you  _ never _ let my dad build up steam or he’ll find some way to talk your ear off about politics and taxes.”

“He could help us,” you said gently, trying not to overstep your boundaries. “I’m not going to pressure you if you say no, but if you mention what we’re trying to do to him, it could be really helpful to have someone in office that’s already on our side once we get enough signatures.”

Abby huffed, staring you down from across the green cafe table. “I thought about it,” she said slowly, crossing her arms and bouncing the heel of her white sneaker against the leg of her chair. “Only problem, sweetie, is that Daddy is one of the ones who’s for the Segregation Act. You’ve never tried to argue with him. He won’t hear a word for anything he doesn’t already agree with. Why do you think I live on an allowance? I had to argue until I was blue in the face for him not to cut me off completely after I graduated high school. He hates that I won’t get into the whole ‘political world’ and the only reason he gives me anything while I’m in college is because I’m his daughter.”

You hummed thoughtfully, your eyes darting towards the bags of high-end makeup and designer jeans. If Abby was on an allowance, it wasn’t exactly small if it could feed her expensive tastes. A big part of you respected her dad for pushing her to get an education and have her live in the dorms; to try and get her to experience how people who weren’t as well off lived and to appreciate the money she came from. Maybe she didn’t like what he was doing, but his efforts were probably why she was a bit more understanding of others and kept her from being just a stuck up, spoiled rich kid.

“I think he respects you more than you believe,” you said, pointing towards the bags at her feet. “He’s taking care of you, Abby. What you spent today so far could pay for a month’s rent for a modest apartment.” Of course, you realized, modest to you would not mean the same thing to her. You added quickly, “Maybe you don’t want to get into politics, but he’s still supporting you while you try to become a nutritionist, isn’t he? Not everyone has an opportunity like that.”

Abby took her turn to hum thoughtfully, her finger on the tip of her straw while she slowly stirred her pink lemonade. “I guess,” she mumbled, giving a half shrug while she examined you. “I just hate that I can’t shop like I used to. Living frugally sucks.”

You quietly sipped your tea, trying to suppress an ugly spike of jealousy. If she thought her lifestyle now was frugal, you’d like to see her try to manage living on her own without anyone to support her. To pad your meals with instant noodles and to only buy clothes when yours were starting to fall apart. It must be nice, not knowing what it was like to try and stretch a dollar as far as it would go, to have her Dad’s card and to not think so much when she wanted something. You stared at your backpack, thinking about the navy, metal card Sans had given you, and started to chew on your lip.

Some of those same thoughts about Abby’s situation turned on you. You had lived on the bare minimum for so long and never asked Sans to give you that card, but you knew he did because he was trying to take care of you and it was his way of letting you get what you needed without having to ask. Would it be ungrateful of you to not use it at all? It wasn’t like you were going to stop doing your best with grounds keeping, or start living the high life just because you knew you had the money to spend.

One outfit here or there wasn’t taking advantage of the card, right? Sans obviously trusted you a lot, to just hand you the keys to their account. You knew it was to make both of your lives easier, since now he didn’t have to pay you in cash, but it was harder to keep track of spending without physical bills in your wallet.

“Hey, do you want to help me find an outfit for yoga before I have to run that errand?” you asked quietly, trying to take your mind off of those complicated thoughts. If it was just some workout clothes, that wasn’t too much. It was important to get yourself in the right mental space in order for the activity to be effective. Just like studying in the library helped you retain more information than studying on your bed. That was one thing you missed about being on campus, the closeness of the library.

“Ooo, yes!” Abby jumped to her feet and pulled you out of the cafe. “We can look at other stuff in the sporting goods store, too! Like a cute matching top or maybe some sneakers if you ever want to go jogging with me. Do you have a yoga mat?”

“I don’t think I need one of those-”

“Of course you do!” Abby huffed, crossing her arms with her shopping bags swaying. “The mat gives you traction while you go through the different poses and lets you do it anywhere. You can bring it to school with you and we can do some yoga outside together when the weather gets warmer! I can guide you though my normal routines and show you what poses to avoid when you’re on your cycle.”

At your confused look, Abby launched into an explanation of starter poses and routines. You never thought something like yoga would need warm ups or cool downs, but as you crossed the threshold into the sporting goods store Abby explained the ins and outs. She even had you pull out the yoga book she had lent you to point out what poses to start with and ways to modify the more difficult ones until you had the strength and flexibility to manage them.

“-and of course,” she added, thumbing through a rack of yoga pants while you looked through the illustrated guide, “you want to avoid anything that has you going upside-down when you’re on your cycle. The point is to get rid of all that, not retain it, so no hand or head stands.”

“I don’t think I have the strength to stand on my hands,” you sighed, studying the flow chart for the advanced poses.

“Not yet, but everyone starts somewhere,” Abby smiled, encouraging you, while she held up a pair of stretchy, black pants that cut off just below your knee. “How about these? They’ll breathe well and you’ll keep your feet free.”

“Can’t I wear something longer?” you asked, eyeing the short pants and already feeling uncomfortable. “I mean, they’ll be fine, I guess, if I wear long socks with them.”

“You can’t wear  _ socks _ while doing yoga!” Abby gasped, as if personally offended by the very idea. “You need traction, sweetie! You could really hurt yourself if you overextend during a pose. That’s another reason why you need to buy a mat - to keep a firm foundation!”

“I, um, don’t want my feet to get cold,” you lied feebly and went to look through the rack yourself for pants. “Don’t they have anything longer?”

“No, all proper yoga outfits are cutoffs. You need your feet and hands free and have no flowing material to get twisted up while you move.” Abby rolled her eyes at you and offered a different pair of pants for you to look at. These ones had a high-rise waist and you liked the look of them a lot more. Even if they were still cut off at the knee, the high waist would hide most of the scars across your lower back during stretches. “That means no socks, sweetie. Bare feet give your poses more stability.”

“What about socks with grips on the bottom?”

“Do you just not like, want people to see your feet or something?” Abby asked with a small huff. She noticed you accept the pair of high waisted pants and smiled, moving to look at another rack with cut off tops that doubled as sports bras. You paled slightly at the sight of them. Even with the pants covering your lower back, the thin straps and low cuts would show off the scars on your shoulder and arm.

“No, I really don’t,” you admitted, thinking of your scars. They covered the entirety of your legs, ankles and feet included. It was one thing to wear oversized sweatpants that could hide your feet somewhat when you were around the guys, but you didn’t want anyone else, especially Abby or other students, to see them.

“Everyone’s got weird looking feet, sweetie,” Abby started to pile cut off tops in your arms to look at, a small hint of frustration in her voice as you re-racked every one. “Just paint your toenails if you’re so self-conscious. Confidence is key!”

“It’s not…” you hesitated, not wanting to be so open about your misgivings. “I would just rather have socks on if we do yoga together.”

“You don’t have to be so modest, you know,” Abby came up behind you and put her hands on your hips, giving them a small wiggle. “Show off that butt! Be proud of your thighs and your weird feet! They’re yours, aren’t they? You said it yourself that you’re working out to decrease stress, not lose weight. If you’re happy with your body, why not show it off?”

“I really don’t want to…” you mumbled, finally accepting one of the many duplicate crop-tops in your arms. It was the same black, stretchy material like the pants and you could see it being useful for keeping your chest in place while you tried the different poses. “Can I at least wear a t-shirt while I work out? I don’t really feel comfortable in just a sports bra and I’d really,  _ really _ appreciate it if we found some kind of socks...”

“Alright, alright,” Abby held up her hands in defeat and motioned for you to follow her. “One step at a time, I guess, you little modest mouse. But I swear, if you try to hold out for one of those old-timey bodysuits when we go swimsuit shopping, I’m going to flip.”

You paled, your grip tightening dangerously on the yoga pants at the thought of a swimsuit. No way in hell, you thought. You’d make up any excuse not to wear one of those.

Abby took your silence as an opportunity to try and pick out more things for you, like a neon pink windbreaker to wear instead of your leather jacket, or a pair of memory foam running shoes that cost more than your entire set of workout clothes put together. You could tell her frustration with your frugalness was slowly building, judging by the intensity of her pout, as you turned down one thing after another. You weren’t going to break and were sticking with the pants and grip socks, the yoga mat and crop top she had already picked out for you.

“Oh come on!” She said loudly, throwing her hands up in the air as you both went to pay and you pulled out the navy, metal card from your wallet. “What the hell, sweetie?”

“W-what?” you stammered. The cashier raised an eyebrow at the two of you as he ran your card and bagged your purchases.

“I never would’ve guessed, from how thrifty you shop, that you came from money!” Abby swiped the card from your hand and examined the reflective sheen in the light. Your face flushed with heat as you swiped it back, took your bags, and tried to leave the inquisitive stare of the cashier behind.

“I don’t come from money,” you growled, speed walking from the store as Abby hurried after you.

“Oh please, you don’t have to hide it from me,” Abby pulled out her own wallet. She flashed a card at you, though the metal was a charcoal grey instead of navy blue. “They don’t give cards like ours to just anybody. Does your daddy have you on an allowance, too? Is that why you’re so careful with how you spend?”

“It’s not like that,” you mumbled, not liking the direction this conversation was taking. “I have a job. This is my pay card and I’m only using it for things I need.”

“Yeah, sure, and I work part time as a bartender,” Abby rolled her eyes at you, adjusted her bags onto one arm, and hooked the newly freed one over your shoulder. “I get it, sweetie. You don’t want anyone to know you’re loaded so they don’t try to use you for your cash. Why do you think I’m so modest?”

You paused, giving her a half-lidded look of disbelief as you glanced at her designer brands and high-end makeup. ‘Modest’ was not the word you’d use. She noticed your glances and sighed.

“I have standards, sure,” she said, steering you towards the next store, “but it’s not like I go around announcing that I have money to spend. Why do you think I let you try to pay me back for the vitamins? I wanted to make sure you actually liked me, not my money.”

“Abby, I don’t care if you’re rich or not-”

“And that’s why you’re my best friend!” Abby smiled widely, pulling you in for a tight hug. “Why do you think I tell you about my problems or want to go shopping with you and buy you things? The girls at track are nice, sure, and the guys from the other teams are hot, but they’re not like you. They don’t care about my problems, or really listen to me like you do, or ask me for advice. To them I’m just... The girl who can get lots of booze for a party or knows the latest gossip.”

You smiled softly, affection warming your chest at being told you were her ‘best friend’. At the same time, cold fear settled beneath that feeling, born of your insecurities about your scars and what Abby’s reaction might be if she ever did try to drag you along for swimsuit shopping. She was so concerned about her own appearance, what if she thought your scars were disgusting and cut ties with you? Should you even continue to go shopping with her at all? There were too many situations you could foresee that would make you uncomfortable - like if she ever tried to put you in shorts.

“So come on, spill,” Abby leaned closer in a conspiring sort of way as you both stood in front of a display of designer bags inside a clean, white store. “You know my daddy’s a senator, what about yours? I bet he’s some big-shot banker or a doctor. Or is it all from your mom?”

“Uh… I, um, wasn’t lying,” you mumbled quietly, watching her examine a pink, leather clutch bag with the logo of the brand patterning the sides in stitched silver thread. “I have a job. Sans hired me as his groundskeeper. He gave me the card; it’s easier for him to let me use it than to pay me with cash like he used to.”

“Wait, he’s the rich one? I didn’t know monsters could be loaded, too. He said he’s retired, isn’t he? Was he like a monster lawyer or something? No, I can’t see that, he seems way too laid back. Maybe he was a radio personality or something?” Abby raised her eyebrow at you, tucking the pink bag in her arm to purchase while she went to browse the rows of overpriced shoes. “What do your parents think about that, anyway? About you working for a monster, not to mention living with a bunch of them and dating one?”

You hugged the bag with your workout items closely, staring down at a pair of black, strappy heels that reminded you of the ones you wanted to wear to prom. “I… I’d like to think they’d approve.”

“Have you not told them?” Abby asked, pausing as she reached for a pair of flashy sandals with a large, silk hibiscus covering the open toe.

You shifted uncomfortably. “I can’t.” She had just said you were her best friend, so it didn’t feel right to not share a bit of yourself in return, but it still hurt to say it out loud, even as a whisper, “They’re… dead.”

“Oh.” Abby said simply, setting the flowered sandals back on the rack. “Um… I’m sorry, sweetie.”

“It’s not your fault,” you said, forcing a half smile on your face. “I don’t really like talking about it, either so…” You shrugged. “It’s not like I’m alone anymore. I have the guys at home and they’re my family now. I have you as a friend, too... I’m grateful for all that.”

Abby eyed the pink clutch in her arms for a long moment, then nestled it in the rack among the shoes. She grabbed your forearm and dragged you from the store. “Come on, sweetie, I know how to cheer you up.”

“Huh?”

“I never, ever cheat on my diet unless it’s important,” she pressed, pulling you from the store and through the mall she knew so well, “but dammit if this is one of those times where it’s okay to eat sweets! And the good stuff, too! Have you ever had pineapple upside-down cheesecake? It’s fucking  _ amazing _ and I’m buying, so don’t argue!”

You chuckled weakly, unsure of how to respond, but feeling immensely grateful none-the-less. She was trying, in her own way, to help you feel better and you weren’t going to argue with that. “Sounds good.”

~~~

Despite your insistence that you were fine taking the bus, you found yourself nestled in the passenger seat of Abby’s white prius. The built in GPS gave a soft instruction in a male, English accent and Abby steered the car towards the address Sans had given you.

“You really didn’t have to drive me,” you said for the fifth time, watching the tall buildings of downtown fly by as you headed North out of the city and towards the hills.

“It’s not a big deal, it’s on my way home,” Abby shrugged. “Well, not the dorms, but where Daddy’s house is, anyways. I’ve got to drop off some of my stuff if I don’t want my dumb roommate stealing it again.”

“What’s your mom like?” you asked, curious. You hadn’t talked much about family, but so far anything Abby had mentioned about it had to do with her father.

Abby pursed her lips at the question, like she tasted something sour. “She’s on some stupid fashion tour in Paris. I wanted to go, too, but Daddy wouldn’t let me skip a semester in school to travel in Europe. He said if I was going to go, it should be for some school thing, like one of those study abroad programs they have. Who wants to study when they travel? That’s just dumb. It makes way more sense to see the sights and party with the locals if you want to get all cultured.”

You sat quietly, watching Abby drum her fingers on her steering wheel. She had called the tour stupid, but her expression and tone made it very clear to you that she had desperately wanted to go with her mom to Paris.

“Does your mom go on a lot of trips?” you asked quietly, realizing that this might be a sensitive subject for Abby. That thought was confirmed as she huffed irritably and focused on the road ahead, her grip tightening on the wheel.

“She took me to Italy, once, when I was in elementary school,” Abby admitted, glancing at you out of the corner of her eye for a reaction. “The food was way too good and I was already kind of a chubby kid… but the operas were kind of nice, even if they were a little boring. Did you and your parents ever travel?”

“Not much,” you grinned, “We rented a cabin way up North for a weekend camping trip, once. The lakes there were nice and clear and my mom and I were constantly swimming, but I found a water beetle in my hair one time and I freaked out. Dad couldn’t talk me into getting back into the water that day, but he taught me how to build a-a cooking fire that night…” you drifted off, shivering at the once happy memory. To think that you had once been that close, even excited, to see those small yellow flames catch the dry grass and grow, eating at the twigs and the sap popping in the logs as the fire warmed them. The flames slowly growing and growing until it consumed everything and-

“Oh, hey, I know this place!” Abby announced excitedly, pulling you out of the memory before a cold sweat could start to build on your clammy skin. You took a deep breath, hugging your leather jacket tightly to your frame, as you looked out the window and anchored yourself back in the real world. “This is where I got my prius!”

“No way. He bought a…?” you mumbled, your eyes wide as Abby pulled into a car dealership. Sans had asked you to pick up something for him, but you never would have guessed he had bought a  _ car. _

“Did you have yours in for repairs or something?” Abby asked, parking her prius near the front and stepping out. You slowly followed, your eyes focusing on the new luxury models on display in the lot behind you.

“No, um…” you mumbled, catching up to Abby and stuffing your hands uncomfortably in your pockets. “He can’t come pick it up himself, but…” You shook your head in disbelief. You didn’t know Sans even liked cars. It was far more believable that he had bought it for Pap instead, who was obviously very into that sort of thing.

Before Abby could ask what you meant, a younger salesman in a crisp, light grey suit with a black and yellow striped tie met you. He held out his hand to Abby, a cheerful, welcoming grin on his face beneath his carefully feathered, brown hair.

“Miss Abby, so good to see you again!” he said, gently taking her hand and giving it a small shake. “Back for the usual detailing, I assume?”

“Actually, Greg, my friend is here for an errand,” Abby nodded towards you and Greg took notice of you for the first time, his brown eyes quickly looking over your appearance and lingering on the tear in your leather jacket.

“Ah, yes,” he nodded, the warmth in his voice cooling ever so slightly. “How may I help you…?”

“Um, I’m here to pick something up for Tobi Gaster,” you said quietly, shifting on your feet as you glanced at the clean, stucco building behind Greg and the water feature playing in the lush, green lawn. You could still see the lines from where landscapers had rolled the grass out.

“Oh, you must be Miss Gaster!” Greg’s tone immediately warmed back up to you and his eyes shined with excitement. “Yes, yes, of course, I received a call that you would be coming in today. If you could just step inside I’ll need to take some photocopies of your IDs and have you sign a few forms before I hand you the keys.”

“Ahh! You got a  _ car?! _ ” Abby squealed, hugging you tightly as you stared at Greg, dumbfounded. “I’m gonna go call Daddy and tell him I’ll be a little late to see him. I want to see what you got!”

“N-no, I’m just p-picking it up for-” you stammered, looking back at Abby as she raced back to her car for her phone. Greg gently steered you towards the stucco building with a hand on your shoulder, chuckling to himself.

“Still haven’t figured it out yet?” He said, holding the wide, glass door open for you so you could step into the brightly lit showroom next to a red Ferrari displayed on the black marble floor. “I would’ve figured, with a brother like yours, you might’ve seen it coming. A shame he’s stuck with work overseas, he said he really wanted to see the look on your face when you got your birthday present.”

“My what?” you asked, breathless as the color drained from your face and the gears of your mind slipped to spin uselessly.

“I know, it’s not actually your birthday,” Greg said, guiding you by your shoulders again to a wide, mahogany desk overlooking the show floor, “But the model he was looking for wasn’t exactly easy to find. But, for clients like yourself, no task is too difficult for me.”

“Can… can I, uh, actually use the, uh, bathroom?” you mumbled, swallowing past the dryness in your throat with some difficulty. Did he say brother? You were an only child.

“Of course,” Greg nodded and pointed you towards a hall with framed, hand drawn maps of Route 66 lining the white walls. “Take your time, Miss. Gaster. I’ll go find the keys while you freshen up. Feel free to help yourself to anything in the lounge.”

You nodded, unable to say anything and darted down the hall, your hands fumbling with your pockets as you searched for your phone. You ran into the lounge and directly into a large, circular wooden table surrounded by leather-upholstered lounge chairs. You swore loudly, holding your knee while you hopped past a counter full of espresso machines, baskets of snacks, and mini fridges with glass doors displaying a selection of other drinks. 

When you found the women’s room, you locked yourself inside and slid down the door to the floor. It felt like steam was coming from your ears with how hard your mind was working to make sense of the situation. With shaking hands, you pulled out your phone, dropped it on the white, marble tile, and picked it up again to hold the home button to call Mutt.

“Hey, pretty bird,” Mutt’s skull appeared on screen, his red eye lights fuzzy with exhaustion despite the welcoming grin he gave you. “Everything okay? I don’t have much time to talk.”

“I’m at a car dealership in a bathroom,” you said simply, clinging to the facts, “and this guy named Greg says that Tobi Gaster is my brother and bought me a car.”

Mutt’s lights flickered with confusion. He rubbed at a socket with the heel of his palm, mumbling sleepily, “Oh, you were going today? Hang on, I’ll go get Sans. He can explain this better than me at the moment.”

You chewed on your lip as Mutt vanished from the camera’s view, leaving his chair to spin slowly towards the mess of his room. A thousand questions assaulted your mind and left it in a whirlwind of thoughts. You were sitting there on the floor, chewing your lip open as you tried to find something to focus on, to start with, when Sans and Mutt reappeared in front of the camera’s view.

“hey, so you finally got it?” Sans asked, stepping aside so Mutt could sink gratefully back into his chair.

“What the hell is going on?!” you squeaked out. “You didn’t tell me you-you bought me a car or- or that I had a freaking  _ brother! _ ”

“give me a second and I can explain,” Sans grinned at you, his white lights shining. Mutt leaned his skull against the back of his chair, his own eye lights sputtering as his sockets started to close. “I told you already that Tobi is a false name, right? Mutt came to me a long time ago and said you needed a car and we agreed to get one. it took him a while, but Mutt created Tobi so we could do things in the human world under a human identity. you know we can’t just waltz down the mountain and buy one ourselves, not with the Segregation Act keeping us here.”

“But-but I… have a brother?” you said weakly.

“Milord gave us the idea,” Sans nodded. “Mutt and I consulted him, since he knows more about the law than we do, and you can’t just give a car to someone who isn’t family or add them to bank accounts. it would’ve looked really suspicious on your part if you just suddenly had the funds even if you do have a job. it was more difficult to make Tobi and go back far enough to make him your brother, but Milord argued with me and said we shouldn’t marry you into the family without consulting you first, even though Mutt said it was way easier to forge records that way. so if anyone asks, your brother Tobi is a banker who deals with private accounts and lives in Switzerland. I had to tell Greg that Tobi was stuck in his bank back home for business so I could justify him not being there with you. as far as Greg knows, my voice is Tobi’s voice.”

“But… but I…”

“so Mutt took care of paperwork, Milord took care of the legal side,” Sans explained simply, ignoring the fact that Mutt was now snoring next to him and you were blinking stupidly at the screen. “Pap picked out the car, I bought it for him, and you’re just picking it up. simple, right?”

“Wait, what?” you paused, letting the information Sans just gave you finally sink in. “This is… you bought it for Pap?”

“did I say I bought it for you?” Sans asked, his white lights flickering with a wink. “sure, it’s in your name, and the humans think it’s for you, but it has to be in your name because Milord was saying something about it being for insurance and liability. it’s easier for all of us if you own it on paper given the circumstances.”

You stared down at the phone’s screen, pink in the face. “It really is for Pap?” you asked quietly, your color turning to red from embarrassment. It was hard not to assume that the car was for you after what Greg said, but Sans was right. It wasn’t legal for monsters to have a car since they had no way to have a driver’s license. They couldn’t even own property in the city. Lane 66 was an exception since it was within Mt. Ebott’s borders.

“of course it is,” Sans grinned mischievously. “we all know you wouldn’t accept a gift like this. Pap, on the other hand, has always wanted a car. I bet if you ask him nicely, he’ll let you use it. I’ve been told you’ll need one once the bus stops coming out so far.”

“I’m not even sure how I’m going to get this one home,” you mumbled, gesturing to the bathroom around you. “Have you seen this pla- no, of course you haven’t,” you grumbled, pinching the bridge of your nose, “Sans, this place just screams expensive. You spent serious money on this car and I don’t have my driver’s license. I barely finished driver’s education! What if I-I rear end someone just getting out of the lot?”

“you’ve got a license,” Sans smirked at you. “did you check your wallet? I slipped it in there with your card so you didn’t forget it this morning.”

You dropped your phone in your lap and pulled your backpack around to dig inside for your wallet. Sure enough, right under your navy card, was a driver’s license with your picture and “Gaster” in place of your last name. You must not have noticed it in your hurry to get out of the sporting goods store.

“I thought you just added me to your account in the Underground?” You asked quietly, staring at the sheen on the plastic ID. 

“humans apparently can change their name without much hassle. do you really think it was that difficult for Mutt to do the same and forge a few records? oh,” Sans added, his low tone filled with suppressed mirth, “and according to your Monster Studies books that Milord thumbed through, the exchange rate for gold is way higher in Switzerland. if anything, you’re saving us money by letting us wire it through Tobi’s account for you to use. does that make you feel better about the card?”

You turned your phone up, to see Sans and the smug grin resting on his skull, and returned the expression with your own uneasy smile. “I don’t know how to drive that well, Sans. I shouldn’t be behind the wheel.”

“then ask Greg to give you a lesson before you drive home,” he shrugged. “I made sure that guy knows you and Tobi are loaded. he’ll bend over backwards to make you happy.”

“So this really is for Pap?” you asked, turning your new license over to examine it. You knew Mutt was good, but that salesman, Greg, wanted photocopies. Even the tiniest mistake could get you all into a whole world of trouble.

“would I lie to you?” Sans chuckled, his white lights shining at you. You quirked an eyebrow at him, then gave him a soft smile. 

“I…” you sighed, accepting defeat. “...no, I don’t think you would. I’m really glad this isn’t for me. If you keep trying to throw money at me I’d start thinking you’re just trying to be a sugar daddy.”

“I don’t think I’d mind that. I always knew you had a sweet tooth, being a baker and all that.” Sans chuckled as you glared at him though the camera. “don’t pie me like that, I’m just teasing you.”

“You know, I honestly doughnut know at this point.” You grinned, listening to Sans’ melodic laugh fill the bathroom from your phone’s speaker. Mutt jerked awake at the noise, his red lights flickering feebly in his sockets.

“Is she all caught up?” he mumbled, rubbing at the corner of his sockets and yawning. “I gotta get back to work…”

“just take it slow getting home, Thyme,” Sans said, nodding at Mutt to placate him. “it’ll be a piece of cake.”

You nodded, adding quickly as Sans reached to cut the video chat, “Make sure Mutt gets some sleep!”

“Don’t worry, Robin,” Mutt mumbled, pulling his pack of smokes out from the pocket of his black hoodie. “When this is all over, I’m gonna sleep like a babybones.”

The video feed cut to black and you let out a heavy sigh, staring at an impressionist painting of a blooming field hung on the far wall. 

How long ago was it that you first talked to Mutt about a car? It was… the day of your first Font lesson with Red and the day you discovered that Edge liked ginger. Back when Butch first started to go through his color change. Milord was avoiding you, back then, and Mutt was distracting you after dinner from your worries by showing you how to play Skyrim. He had explained how monster magic was different from how humans imagined it worked and told you about the weapons each of them could summon.

You chuckled to yourself. That was a long time ago. Had Mutt really been working on this Tobi character since then? He had said, you could recall now that you were thinking about it, that he would take care of everything. You also remembered that he had pulled Milord and Sans aside on more than one occasion, and that Milord and Sans would huddle together sometimes at dinner to whisper under their breath to each other.

And when you mentioned the problem with the bus lines to Pap, he had sought out Sans and Milord, much to your confusion. Now you knew why. They had all been working together to make this happen. The car was for Pap, you knew that, but you weren’t going to kid yourself too much. They four of them had done this for you, too, because they knew it was easier for you to ask Pap to borrow his car than to ask them for one.

Maybe if you hadn’t been so stubborn about doing things on your own, you could’ve talked them into an older pickup truck instead of whatever-the-hell luxury car was waiting in the lot outside. 

“Sweetie?” Abby’s voice called out to you as she knocked on the bathroom door, concern lacing her voice. “Are you okay? Greg said you looked pretty pale. Did you faint or something?”

“No, I’m okay,” you said, getting onto your feet and opening the door. “I just… wasn’t expecting to pick up a car today.”

“Yeah, that’s one hell of a brother you have,” Abby smiled at you, shoving a bottled mango smoothie into your hands. “Drink that, sweetie. We skipped lunch and your blood sugar levels are probably all over the place. I don’t want you fainting on me again.”

“I didn’t faint,” you mumbled, turning pink and following Abby back through the lobby. “I was… on the phone with Tobi.”

“How come you never told me you have a brother?” Abby asked, quirking her brow at you.

“He, um, lives in Switzerland,” you said, avoiding her eyes as you took a swig of the chilled, thick smoothie. “I never see him,” you added honestly, feeling guilty about lying to Abby. It was hard enough to talk about the guys with her, let alone tell her that they had made a fake human identity to illegally buy a car that you would drive away with using a forged driver’s ID.

Oh stars, you thought to yourself, turning pale again. Did that make you a criminal? Sure, you weren’t an ex-boss like Red, but thinking of things like that… Did Milord know how many laws he was helping his brothers break? It was hard to imagine he’d allow something like that. Unless, you reasoned, he was much more willing to bend certain parts of the human side of the law in an attempt to  _ try _ and keep his brothers from doing something downright illegal.

Or maybe Sans and Mutt never told Milord exactly what they were doing. Sans just said he consulted Milord about the law, he never said he explained the end goal to him. You knew Sans could be very sly when he wanted to be. How else could he have hidden his own secrets for so long? Maybe Sans had used all hypotheticals. You knew from experience that Milord was willing to indulge those kinds of things to maintain plausible deniability.

“Miss Gaster? Your ID?” Greg asked from behind his mahogany desk. You snapped back to reality and laughed nervously, your hand shaking as you went to get your wallet from your bag.

“She’s still taking it all in,” Abby explained for you, “and she has low blood sugar.”

“I’m, uh, nervous, too,” you said sheepishly, avoiding Greg’s smile and understanding gaze. “I haven’t driven a car in a long time…”

“That’s no problem at all, Miss Gaster,” Greg said, nodding as he scanned your ID. “I’d be happy to take you out on some of the side roads and show you some of the car’s features myself. Classic models are a bit different than the newer ones, though I’m sure you’ll be grateful to hear we found one that came as an automatic. Most people don’t know how to drive stick these days. Since it’s an automatic, the car is only a 3-speed instead of the standard 4, but Tobi made sure that I found one of the convertibles so hopefully that’s a fair trade to you?”

“O-of course,” you mumbled, taking back your ID and signing the papers Greg slid across his desk with still shaking hands.

“Wonderful!” Greg’s smile grew by a few molars and he offered the way forward with a sweeping hand motion. “Ladies, if you’ll please follow me, I can show you where the shelby awaits!”

The shelby, as Greg had called it, was actually an old, blue muscle car with twin, white racing stripes stretching from the hood to the truck. According to Greg, it was a 1966 Shelby GT350. You kind of tuned out what he said next, as you didn’t understand a lot of car lingo outside of ‘leather interior with fold down rear seats’ and ‘dual exhaust’, and started to giggle uncontrollably as you looked over the smiling front of the classic, metal frame.

It was definitely something Pap would want. Although you would have expected him to pick out something in red or white, not blue. That might’ve been Sans’ doing.

“Did Tobi pick this out, or did you ask him for it?” Abby asked under her breath while Greg started his presentation of the shelby.

“He picked it, I don’t know anything about cars,” you admitted, still trying to stifle your awkward giggles.

“Your brother would get along great with Daddy,” Abby whispered to you, watching with you as Greg gave you both a demonstration of how to work the shelby’s retractable roof. “He loves classic cars. There’s a ten car garage back home stuffed full of things like these.”

“-and if you ever need repairs, regular upkeep, or parts for this old girl, feel free to contact me. I’ll take care of everything for you, for a small fee of course.” Greg said cheerfully, handing you the keys, “Now, shall we take her for a spin? The purr of the V8 from one of these can be a bit startling at first for those that are used to the quiet of modern vehicles.”

~~~

Driving a car was very much like riding a bike, apparently, in that once you slid into the leather seat with Greg’s patient instruction in your ear, all of your Dad’s lessons came flooding back to you. Abby sat in the back seat the entire time of your test drive, encouraging you to stop driving like you were as old as the car and to see how fast you could go on the highway.

You were perfectly content taking your time, thank you very much.

It was the strangest feeling, driving out of the lot on your own. You kept the radio off (you didn’t have any cds to put into the updated sound system) and the only voice you heard was your gps giving you instructions every now and then from the passenger seat telling you how to get home. The only other sound was of the tires carrying you along the highway, the engine humming through the frame and into your feet. Eventually, the smell of new car and leather started to make you a bit dizzy and you opened the window to let fresh, spring air wake you back up.

It felt… freeing, having a car. No more waiting for the bus as it stopped again and again for other passengers. You could make a left, right now, and not have to pay a taxi driver anything extra just to enjoy the scenery of the city you lived in. A small feeling of daring hit you as you turned onto the empty road leading up towards the mountain and a thrill filled you, exploding out in a fit of laughter, as you stepped on the pedal and the engine roared. The shelby shot you down the road and the wind from the open window whipped your hair around your smiling face.

You wouldn’t admit it out loud, but you were starting to feel just a little bit jealous of Pap’s new car.

As you slowly guided the shelby up the winding drive towards Lane 66, you spotted Pap (who was, strangely, wearing a white t-shirt with his acid-wash blue jeans) and Sans waiting outside for you. You could hear Pap’s squeal of glee when they saw you in return. You stopped the car halfway up the drive, not wanting to hit Pap as he rushed toward you in his excitement.

“IT’S SO  _ BEAUTIFUL! _ ” Pap exclaimed, his red boots skidding to a stop just before the shelby. He hugged the car as you put it in park and got out, his red, mittened hands easily reaching either side of the metal frame. “I DON’T EVEN CARE THAT SANS GOT THE COLOR WRONG I’M SO HAPPY RIGHT NOW!”

“You can take it for a test drive, if you want,” Your broad smile matched his as you stepped aside, offering the open door to him. “It’s your car, after all.”

“I DON’T KNOW HOW TO DRIVE!” Pap shouted excitedly, picking you up in a hug and twirling you around. “I JUST CAN’T WAIT TO TAKE IT APART AND SEE HOW IT WORKS! THIS IS THE SECOND BEST DAY OF MY LIFE!”

A spike of anxiety shot through you at the thought of having the shelby spread across the lawn in pieces. You ignored the smug look Sans was giving you from his spot near the house as you tried to talk Pap into letting you at least park the car closer to the house first.

“Here,” you said, handing Pap the keys after you adjusted your bags on your arm. “I hope you have a lot of fun with it, Pap. It’s a really cool car.”

Pap had no more words, but he did pick you up again and kiss you before rushing back to gush over the shelby. You joined Sans at the front of the house, pink in the face, as you both watched Pap dive inside the car in search of the release for the shelby’s hood.

“so... you’re not going to ask him?” Sans asked you, a lazy grin beneath his shining white eye lights. “I can hear the longing in your soul. kind of sounds like those black and white loons.”

You shook your head, knowing he meant if you were going to ask Pap to borrow the car. “Not today,” you said, watching Pap as he finally got the hood to pop and quickly came around to the front to begin examining the engine. “He just got it. Let him enjoy it.”

Sans rolled his eye lights at you. “yo, Pap!” he called out, his low voice echoing off the surrounding trees. “you said you’d share it with Thyme, so make sure it’s put back together when she needs to go into town!”

“OF COURSE!” Pap waved a hand behind him, his skull hovering over the black engine block.

“I-I don’t have school tomorrow!” you shouted, feeling your face heat up, “And I can take the bus the rest of the week, so don’t worry about me!”

“IT’S OKAY, HONEY.” Pap emerged from beneath the hood, a broad grin over his skull. “JUST PROMISE ME YOU’LL TEACH ME HOW TO DRIVE AND YOU CAN USE THE CAR WHENEVER YOU WANT!”

You nodded shyly, clutching the mall bag and your backpack tightly in your hands.

“good to see you’re not being as difficult with the card,” Sans said, sidling up to you so he could brush his elbow against yours and jostle the plastic bag.

“I… needed workout stuff,” you mumbled, earning a melodic chuckle from him. “I hope that’s okay.”

“it’s your gold, too” Sans shrugged, showing you it was no big deal. You offered him a soft smile of appreciation as he shifted on his feet, the hands in the pockets of his blue hoodie obviously fidgeting. “so... I took this nap today and I’ll probably be up late,” he said slowly, his deep voice much quieter. “I don’t know how tired you’ll be, but if you don’t have school tomorrow… would you want to go stargazing tonight? just stargazing,” he added quickly. “I thought you might like to… keep your mind off things.”

“Yeah, that sounds nice,” you said, studying Sans as he focused his gaze on Pap. His expression had settled back into a lazy smile, and his fidgeting had calmed after you accepted his invitation, but something about the way he asked caught your attention. Usually you both went up to the roof for privacy. So far, every time you had gone stargazing had brought up the timelines, or Sans’ past. He had even used it as a code during your call with Abby to let you know his progress on his project. “Is everything okay?” you asked quietly.

“sure it is,” he said, avoiding your eyes.

“Sans, I’m happy to spend time with you and just stargaze,” you said gently, placing a hand on his shoulder that drew his attention back to you, “but if you have other things on your mind… you can tell me.”

“It’s fine,” he mumbled, his eye lights softening at you. “there’s enough on your plate at the moment.”

You gave his shoulder a small squeeze, silently debating with yourself if you should press him. “If you like, why don’t we meet in my room after dinner?” you asked, deciding to give him a different opportunity rather than pushing at this moment. “We can hang out and watch a movie while we wait for the stars to come out.”

“...I’d like that.”

A small smile tugged at your lips as you took your hand back. “Sounds like a plan. I’m going to do some chores and try to catch a nap myself before dinner. See you soon?”

“yeah,” Sans nodded, his white eye lights following you as you slipped inside. “see you soon.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yesss, I’ve been waiting since chapter 15 to get this damn car into the story! So satisfying that it’s finally happened. ^-^ I have to admit… I kind of share Pap’s love of classic cars. Those old 60s and 70s shelbys are just- mmmm <3
> 
> ….this baby can fit so many skeletons inside! *slaps roof of car*
> 
> Also, whoever mentioned the sugar daddy thing, just... dammit, Janet. :P
> 
> If you'd like to follow me on insta, I do post updates of when chapters are coming out soon! Feel free to follow me and send a message, if you like. Questions for the Teatime chapter are still open, for the time being, but I'll be posting an update on insta when I've finished the outline for the bonus chapter and will no longer be accepting questions. <3 Thanks for reading!
> 
> https://www.instagram.com/oolongteacup426/?hl=en


	33. Ch 31 - The Middle

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't have too much to say atm... but I do want to thank you all for your patience in between chapters. I know I get a bit depressed when waiting for an update of the stuff I follow, but keep your chin up, lovelies! Writing is hard sometimes!
> 
> As always, thank you for reading and for any comments you may leave. I appreciate the love <3

Ch 31 - The Middle

_ The shimmering butterfly hovered before you, just out of reach. The ever changing patterns of light on its wings shifted between many shades of green. It trailed a familiar scent as you chased it through the dark. _

A hand was on your shoulder, gently trying to shake you awake. You grumbled under your breath and buried your face into the soft, warm fabric beneath you, comforted by the smell of woods, sap, and pollen.

_ Small threads of yellow appeared in the dark at your feet, brought to life by the glowing dust of the butterfly as it fluttered desperately trying to stay in the air. Trying to stay out of your hands. _

“Lily…?”

_ You finally caught the small creature. It’s wings beat against the cage of your fingers, green dust coating the joints of your bones as it started to climb free through the hole in your palm. It fluttered in front of your eyes, beautifully defiant, before its tiny body convulsed and it fell to the dark ground. Its legs twitched frantically as it silently screamed; as its body cracked open and honey bled onto the yellow threads - blackening them like a spreading sickness. _

“Lily…!”

You opened your eyes, your heart pounding in your chest as you looked up at Butch’s furrowed brow. He softly touched your face, brushed your hair out of your eyes, as his white eye lights searched you. You sat up from his lap and stared out one of the bright windows at the shadows of the woods.

“are you… okay?” Butch asked, his hand tight on your shoulder as you stared out into the trees beyond the glass, unsure of what you were looking for. “you were… muttering in your sleep.”

“Yeah. I was… dreaming?” you mumbled, unsure. The memory of your dream was vague, but you found yourself checking your hands for holes in your palms. “It’s weird. I used to remember a lot of my dreams, but lately I can’t remember them at all. I just have this… strange feeling of foreboding sometimes when I wake up.”

Butch’s brow furrowed and his hand slid from your shoulder down your arm. You reached up to take it, to intertwine your fingers with his gentle touch, chastising yourself for saying something like that. There was no reason to worry him like that - just his presence chased the leftover feeling of the dream away and you glanced at the rolling credits of ‘Spirited Away’ on the tv. Butch tilted his skull, studying you as you rubbed the sleep from your eyes. “you should… rest more. I can… start dinner on… my own.”

“It’s okay, I’ll help you,” you said, offering a smile to show him you were alright. “It’s just the stress of midterms, I’m sure. I had weird dreams last semester, too, around this time and during finals. I’m alright.” 

The crinkle of worry hadn’t left Butch’s expression and you added, “Maybe I just shouldn’t clean before I nap. My dad used to tell me that the smell of bleach gave me weird dreams when I was little.” 

After you had come inside from bringing the shelby home, you had taken an hour to do some basic chores around the house for Milord while he was away. Butch had invited you to watch a movie with him after you finished and you turned pink as you realized you must’ve passed out just after the movie started. 

Butch nodded, watching you as you rose from the couch to kneel in front of the Playbox. “are you sure you… don’t want to rest more…?”

“I’m fine, I promise,” you grinned, pausing in front of the Playbox to glance out of another window. The edge of the window frame cut out most of the blue shelby, but you could still make out Pap’s tall figure bent over the engine while Sans leaned nearby, his hand gesturing slowly as he chatted with his brother.

“ _ Hajimari no asa shizuka na mado, zero ni naru karada mitasarete yuke-” _

You hit the power button and the lilting song died. Butch’s hand entered your field of vision and you took it gratefully, allowing him to help you to your feet. He took it back as he led you from the living room towards the kitchen. You watched him fidget anxiously as you brushed out wrinkles from your black sweater dress and adjusted your thigh-high, purple socks.

“Did you have any ideas on what we should make?” you asked. You pulled the cookbook off the windowsill above the sink to thumb through, trying to show Butch that you were fine and he shouldn’t worry. It was just a dream, after all. “Since it’s just us two cooking, we should probably do something simple. My mom used to make goulash for potlucks. We could do that, since it’s a one pan meal and we only have to double the recipe to feed all nine of us. Milord and Edge aren’t home but we should still leave them a plate... What if we did salad as a side?”

“that’s… fine,” Butch mumbled. You felt his arms snake around your waist and you paused, looking curiously over your shoulder before he leaned his skull against the side of your head. His eye lights flickered strangely as he held you close.

“when... I was going through… my color change…” he whispered softly, his grip tightening ever so slightly as he nuzzled his face into your hair, “I… had a lot of strange dreams. of Axe… and you. I didn’t understand… a lot of the things I saw… but… if you do remember them and… and they frighten you… you can tell me, if you want.”

You gently leaned yourself into him, a rush of gratitude filling you from his offer of support. It had been difficult for you, as of late, to bring up some of your stressors to the guys; but something as abstract as a dream would be easier to discuss. If you could remember them that is.

“Thank you, I appreciate that,” you said, turning your head so you could kiss his cheekbone. The heat of his golden flush warmed your lips and you smiled against him. Leaning your forehead against the side of his skull, you added quietly, “It’s just stress, that’s all. Everything that’s been happening with school and the petition’s deadline - the fight with Axe and… and other things,” you said vaguely, letting one of your hands fall to find his as you avoided talking about Red. You let out a sigh you had been holding in, mumbling, “I’m just glad things are getting better. Once Milord and Edge get home, my midterms are over, and spring break arrives I think I’ll be able to finally relax and recover.”

“Axe isn’t… still pushing you, is he?” Butch asked, a firmness to his soft voice that caught you by surprise. “he told me… he talked to you… last night and… said he was sorry, but… I don’t want you… to feel like you have to… deal with…. Edge for me and-”

“Nope,” you pressed a finger to his broken teeth, silencing him. “None of that, Butch. I already told you I wanted to help with your lessons. This was my idea and I’m not just going to shove my responsibility for it off on you or anyone else. Besides,” you squeezed his arm so he let go of you and pulled him over to the fridge to start gathering ingredients for dinner. “If I’m being totally honest, I don’t think anyone else in this house has the patience to deal with Edge.”

Not to mention, you thought quietly to yourself as you stacked water sausage and tomatoes into Butch’s waiting arms, dealing with Edge might have some benefit for you, too. He might be a stubborn jerk, but some small part of you hoped that by having to help him plan his future lesson with Butch you could learn more about magic. It was such a big part of the guys’ life - it literally made up their bodies and souls - and you knew next to nothing about it. 

That, and you wanted to help him, too. He had done nothing to deserve your kindness, but after hearing about what kind of life he had under Garamond and his confinement after being freed from being a collared object (not to mention whatever happened with Her,) you knew that a big part of his abrasive front was an attempt to protect himself. There was still good in him. It was hidden away beneath prickly layers of verbal jabs and misguided intent, sure, but if he was irredeemable he wouldn’t have tried to protect his brothers so viciously from you.

“Since we’re talking about it,” you said thoughtfully, putting a pot of water on to boil for shocking the tomatoes while Butch dealt with the water sausage, “what do you want to take from your lesson? I know you want to learn to control your new magic, but is there anything else I should bring up with Edge?”

Butch hummed thoughtfully, his hand stilling as he sliced open the casing on one of the blue, tubular plants. “I… have always wanted… to learn to summon,” he said quietly, emptying out the contents of the blue skin into a bowl. “I’ve only ever… known how to… take shortcuts.”

“Really?” Your eyebrows jumped towards your hairline in surprise. Summons, as far as you knew, were a monster’s way of protecting themselves and a basic part of magic. Surely, with how protective Axe was of Butch, he would’ve at least taught him that? Butch shook his skull as you asked him that very thought.

“it was too… dangerous,” Butch shrugged, focusing on his task on the marble countertop to avoid your curious gaze. “when we take shortcuts… the magic is… eaten by the void. there’s… nothing left behind… except a bit of our scent. but… other things… like summons…” Butch hummed again, looking up thoughtfully as he sorted through his thoughts. “you know… that we can sense magic. when we summon… the magic lingers… in the air even after… it’s banished. to keep me hidden… and safe from… Ferals… I wasn’t allowed… to practice. the magic… would’ve been… like a light in the dark… and drawn them… to our old house.”

You nodded, thinking of the few times you had seen the brothers summon their glowing bones. The magic that made the constructs had always melted into the air, like mist, after their banishing and you could always see the colored plasma for a few moments before it vanished completely. It was only when the guys took shortcuts that you couldn’t see their colors.

“Okay, so summons and control, then,” you repeated, placing the words firmly in your mind for later. “What about defensive use of your magic? Edge mentioned that he’d like to teach you how, but is that something you’re comfortable with?”

Butch shrugged again, his white eye lights darting toward the taped up crack in the glass over the sink. “I… don’t know. I just don’t… want to hurt anyone. if he… tries to teach me that… he would have to attack me… for me to practice, right? I… I’d be terrified… if he came after me… like that.” He mumbled his last words while he hung his skull in shame, “I might… lose control and… hurt him. he’d… be really… really angry… if I did that.”

“What if he just taught you the theory first?” You offered, thinking hard as you mixed everything together in the pot for the goulash. “You could practice on summons, but if you wanted to go further, maybe we could ask Axe to be your sparring partner. You trust him completely, don’t you? I don’t think you’d have any fear of him hurting you, but then you’d still be able to have practical application.”

“that sounds… like a lot… for just one lesson.”

“We’ll just focus on control for the first one,” you said gently, your hand coming to rest comfortingly between his shoulder blades. “If you think they’re helpful and you want to keep going, I think it should be you who asks Edge for more. It’s always your choice if you want to keep with it or stop. You can say no, at any time, and you know that Axe, Red, and I will be there for you.”

Butch gave you a small, lopsided smile and your conversation drifted to other topics while you finished up dinner together. He told you that he really liked the movie that you had fallen asleep to and you made another mental note to pick up more Miyazaki movies for him next time you were at the mall. It was Axe, apparently, who really liked the documentaries. 

You also told him about your plans to start doing yoga and Butch, immensely curious, asked if he could join you. The thought turned your face pink. You had no idea how to do any of the poses and knew you’d probably look like an idiot, but Butch would be the last person in the world to make fun of you if you messed up. You quietly agreed to have him join and wondered aloud to him if it would be boring for him. He had no muscles or tendons to stretch, it might not do anything for him. He thoughtfully asked if you would mind if he brought it sketchbook once you explained what you knew about the workout to him.

“it can be… fun for both of us,” he said, happily pulling plates for dinner from the cupboard and a pair of pie tins for Milord and Edge’s portion. (The reason being that they could stick their food into the oven to be reheated without cracking any of the ceramic plates.) “I can do… quick sketches of strange poses… and you’ll have to pace yourself. that’s what… you’re supposed to do… right?”

“Yeah, Abby said it’s almost like a physical form of meditation,” you nodded, moving away from the steaming pot of goulash with the smell of basil clinging to your face.

Leaving Butch to plate up, you went about the house to gather the other brothers for dinner. Mutt was first, since the door to his room was right off the kitchen.

The basement was dark save for the blue-white glow of his computer screen. You paused halfway down the stairs at the still silence, your heart jumping in your chest. It was weird to not hear the soft clacking of his keyboard. Did that mean he was done?

Mutt himself was still sitting in front of his computer with the screen displaying that white and grey checkerboard screen. You slowly approached him, eyeing his skull as it leaned back against his chair and his closed sockets. He snored softly, his head rolling to one side as he slouched down and the swivel chair turned ever so slightly at the shifting of his long legs. A soft smile crept onto your face and a rush of gratitude filled you to see him finally getting some rest.

You pulled his black sheet off his bed and gently draped it over him while he slept on. Movement on the computer screen caught your eye and you hesitated, severely tempted to investigate the small squares. With a small glance at Mutt, to check that he was still passed out, you leaned closer to the computer.

The sneaking suspicion you had that they were camera feeds was confirmed as you made out the grainy, black and white scenes displayed on the monitor. They must be old cameras, the ones for the house were in color and had better resolution, but you could still discern the outlines of stone walls and pine forests. Small figures moved on screen and, squinting your eyes (you kept your hands behind your back to avoid touching Mutt’s keyboard) you saw for the first time in your life the shapes of other monsters. There was one who was quite round in shape and, as you watched, they blinked their one large eye and it became two before their mouth formed and they silently spoke to their companions while gesturing at the rubble. The companions were a tall, furry creature in armor with a dog’s head and the other had a long face covered almost completely by an overly large hat. The hat monster floated around on what looked like balls of grey fire and their long, reptilian snout split as they, too, spoke and gestured with their body towards a portion of the rock pile. 

The archway above the wall seemed intact, so what happened with the collapse? You wondered, looking back to the hat and eyeball monsters as they moved more rocks onto the pile; directed by pointing and silent barks from the dog monster.

You tilted your head, thinking, as you quietly retreated from the basement before you woke up Mutt and got in trouble. As you passed Butch in the kitchen, you mentioned to him that Mutt was asleep and that you’d bring him a plate downstairs after you had gotten the others.

That wall… it had to be the wall of District 4 - of The Ruins. If there had been a breach, then it made sense there must’ve been a hole and those rocks… were there to plug it up. You didn’t see any other monsters besides those three, so did that mean the Guard had withdrawn from the fight? But then what were those three doing there?

Didn’t Sans tell you once that the royal family had a personal guard made up entirely of dog monsters? If the Queens had sent their personal entourage to help out… did that mean the breach was worse than you thought? 

But Milord and Edge had to be okay. You couldn’t imagine Mutt falling asleep like that if tragedy had hit the family. So did that mean the fighters had merely withdrawn, or was it all over? You could rationalize that those three were a patrol of some kind… but you had no way of knowing if they were part of the Guard or not. Did the Guard wear uniforms, like the military you knew, or badges, like the police force? The dog monster’s armor kind of looked like Pap’s… but those other two wore nothing to show if they were in the Guard. Milord wore his leather jacket and purple scarf, as a mark of his position as Captain, but that didn’t mean that any of his underlings did the same. Edge didn’t wear anything special, after all, despite being a specialist himself.

Regardless of your knocks, most of the rooms were empty. Axe must’ve been outside, and you knew Sans was still keeping Pap company, so that only left Red to get from the second story. He gave you a look as he opened his door in response to your knocks. One that told you without him saying anything he knew something was on your mind.

“Um, dinner’s ready,” you said quietly, gesturing over your shoulder with your thumb. Red quirked a bony brow at you, his sharp teeth set in the beginnings of a scowl. He leaned his guitar safely against the wall before joining you in the hall.

“what’s eatin’ yeh, Doll?” he asked bluntly, folding his arms over the front of his red turtleneck. You chewed your lip and silently debated if you should tell him what you saw. Red was just as invested in information on the breech as you, you knew that, but you didn’t want to give him false hope that Edge was coming home soon.

“Out of curiosity…” you said slowly, wondering how to ask this without giving too much away, “I was thinking about it and I was just wondering… how do you know if a monster is in the Guard?”

“they get purple scarves,” Red said simply, leading the way down the wide, oak steps. You cursed to yourself silently at the black and white footage. “why yeh thinkin’ on that?”

“Well, I don’t know much about the Underground. I didn’t know if they wore badges like policemen or anything like that,” you said honestly, pausing in front of the front door. Red did the same, his crimson eye lights watching you expectantly to follow him. “Edge doesn’t wear purple. He wears red and black,” you pointed out.

“Edge don’ give a shit,” Red’s rough voice chuckled. “an’ he don’ gotta, neither. he’s got a reputation, Doll. monsters know him on sight ‘n don’ fuck with him.”

You nodded slowly, recalling Milord telling you about how much Edge liked to deny authority and hated being considered part of a group when he was in training. You had no doubt he had made his old partner, Undying, carry their purple symbol for the both of them before his reputation preceded him. “Thanks, Red. I’ve got to go outside to get the others for dinner. We’ll meet you in the kitchen in a bit.”

Red shrugged and stuffed his hands into the pockets of his black hoodie before sauntering down the hall. As you quietly slipped outside into the cool evening air, you had to wonder - was Edge’s reputation good or bad? Did other monsters avoid him out of fear, or out of respect for his strength in magic? He wasn’t exactly the most approachable person, so you assumed the former, but with monsters it was hard to know for sure. They saw scars differently, after all, and you had no idea how Edge chose to conduct himself when he was on the job.

With a small, internal wince, you realized that Edge probably didn’t act too respectfully if you went off how he treated his own brothers. He probably picked a lot more fights with those that didn’t show him the respect he felt he deserved.

Milord, on the other hand… it was hard to imagine him being anything other than his usual, uptight self. He had only ever let himself become even slightly vulnerable when you were alone together and even then he could be stiff or emotionally cold.

You missed those small moments of his. The lavender color he wore when you made him flustered, the hesitant touches, and even the stern talking-tos he gave you when he felt you weren’t doing your best. You’d even take his more possessive side right now, if that meant he was home.

“heya, Thyme,” Sans’ low voice drifted over to you from beside the car and you snapped out of your thoughts. “come outside just to daydream? though it’s more like duskdream, at this point.”

“Dinner…” Your voice trailed off as you stared, wide eyed, at all the car parts laying on the concrete next to the front of the shelby. Pap wasn’t kidding. He really couldn’t wait to take it apart and he had started with the engine he was currently in up to his ribs. As you watched, Pap handed Sans a large, metal piece that looked like a tank of some kind and Sans set it on the ground. Pap wiped his bare hands on his oily jeans. His mittens were tucked safely into his back pocket but you couldn’t smell any brown sugar on the air.

“I’ll go find Axe,” Sans offered, wiping his hands on Pap’s already-stained white shirt. “he’ll blow a gasket if we start without him.”

“SANS! NO P-” Pap smacked his skull on the hood as he surfaced to chastise his brother. He rubbed his skull, scowling, as Sans let out a chuckle before vanishing on the spot.

“Are you okay?” you asked, rushing over as Pap extracted himself from the shelby. His face, shirt, and jeans were soaked in dark, brown oil and you worried for the shelby, too.

“I’M FINE HONEY, DON’T WORRY,” Pap smiled brightly at you before gesturing towards the hollowed out engine block of the car. “ISN’T IT BEAUTIFUL? THE MANUAL I HAVE MADE ME IMAGINE SOMETHING MUCH BIGGER, BUT IT ALL FITS INSIDE THIS LITTLE COMPARTMENT! I CAN’T WAIT TO GET UNDERNEATH IT, THOUGH I’M NOT SURE HOW I’LL DO THAT. I CAN’T HOLD IT UP AND WORK WITH ONLY ONE HAND…”

“I’m glad you’re having so much fun, Pap,” you said, giving the parts on the ground an anxious look, “but what are you going to do with all this in the meantime? I know you have dark vision, but you shouldn’t be working outside at night.”

“DON’T WORRY, HONEY,” Pap tilted your chin up, the oil and car grease on his bony fingers smearing on your skin as he kissed you. “IT WON’T TAKE ME LONG TO PUT IT BACK TOGETHER. I WANTED TO TAKE MY TIME GETTING IT APART SO THAT I REMEMBERED HOW IT ALL FITS BACK IN PLACE. DO YOU… THINK I COULD EAT OUT HERE? I’D LIKE TO KEEP WORKING ON THIS.”

“I know you’re excited, but I think we would all appreciate you coming inside,” you said gently. The table would already feel empty enough as it was; with two brothers gone and one passed out in his chair downstairs.

Pap sighed heavily, glancing longingly at the shelby and its array of parts. “ALRIGHT,” he huffed and pulled off his dirty t-shirt over his skull to start wiping the grime from his hands. Even as you watched, orange plasma was starting to leak again from his joints and he seemed to be in a hurry to get the dirt off and get his mittens back on. “LET ME AT LEAST WASH MY HANDS AND FIND A CLEAN SHIRT. I’LL MEET YOU IN THE KITCHEN, HONEY.”

He turned to head back towards the house and you caught sight of the mark you had given him displayed on his collarbone.

“Wait!” You reached out and grabbed the material of his jeans. Pap paused, his white eye lights shining curiously at you as you hesitated. If there wasn’t going to be an official meeting, Mutt advised you to tell Pap sooner than later. This was the first chance you had since marking Pap to be alone with him. “I just wanted to take a second and discuss the rest of the pack with you.”

“OH, ARE WE DOING THAT MEETING THING TONIGHT?” Pap asked as he pulled his mittens out of the pocket of his jeans. His dirty t-shirt slid from his grasp and fell to the ground. “OR,” he glanced at you, his lights flickering with worry, “DID I BREAK A RULE ALREADY?”

“No, no, you’re fine.” You picked the t-shirt back up and held it for him while he covered his leaking magic. “I just… wanted to let you know we won’t have a meeting soon. We can’t. Not with one of us gone. But you should know who my other betas are. That’s only fair, isn’t it?”

“I ADMIT I’VE BEEN CURIOUS,” Pap said slowly, taking the t-shirt you offered back to him.

“So currently, there’s you, Mutt, Axe, and Milord,” you said quickly, deciding to just say what you needed to and not drag this out. If Pap was upset with any of the others, you might as well deal with it now. “And Milord has asked us to not talk about his mark to anyone outside of the pack, so… please, keep that to yourself out of respect for his wish.”

“NO WAY! THE WEASEL BEAT ME TO IT!?” Pap huffed indignantly, glaring off into the shadowy woods. “I THOUGHT YOU WOULD’VE PICKED ANYONE ELSE OVER THAT NUMBSKULL! W-WHAT ABOUT BUTCH OR RED? I THOUGHT FOR SURE THEY WERE ALREADY MARKED BY YOU, WITH HOW THEY ACT!”

“They’re not… yet,” you added, trying to calm Pap down with a hand on his bony forearm; feeling his tension through the contact. “That brings me to the other thing I need to talk to you about. Future members.”

“WHY ARE YOU ASKING ME?” Pap asked, his irritated expression quickly replaced by a bewildered one.

“Because I don’t want fights if I mark someone else,” you explained, letting your thumb gently drift across the space in the bones of his forearm. “The others approved of me marking you before we had our date. You’re part of the pack now, so you also get a say in these things. The others have already agreed to Butch and Sans, but I won’t mark them if you disapprove. As for Red… I don’t have everyone’s approval on him, yet. Axe already approves, and Mutt does, too, but Milord doesn’t. Then there’s your opinion on everyone. If you don’t want, say, Sans or Butch to be a part of this, then I want us to work on why. Everyone has to agree before I mark someone new.”

Pap shrugged, still looking very confused by all this. “I ALREADY ASSUMED THEY WERE YOURS.” He shook his head and ran one of his hands over the smooth curvature of his skull as he sighed again. “I GUESS… IF I’M BEING COMPLETELY HONEST… THE ONLY ONE I WOULD WORRY ABOUT IS RED. I JUST CAN’T SEE HIM BEING GOOD FOR YOU, HONEY.”

“He’s trying to change,” you said softly. “You don’t have to decide what you think of him right now. Milord is waiting, too, to see if Red can show he deserves to be a part of this. Take your time and be sure of your choice. You can always talk to me about him, too.”

“WHY WOULD YOU WANT SOMEONE LIKE HIM?” Pap asked bluntly. “HE’S IRRITABLE, HEADSTRONG, INSENSITIVE, RUDE, AND HE DOESN’T LISTEN TO ANYBODY. I’VE TOLD YOU BEFORE, HONEY, YOU NEED TO BE DOMINANT TO CONTROL YOUR BETAS. YOU MIGHT LIKE RED, BUT I CAN SEE HIM CAUSING NOTHING BUT PROBLEMS FOR YOU. ...BUT IF HE’S SOMEONE YOU WANT, I’LL THINK ABOUT IT. OKAY?”

You nodded, your hands fidgeting with your nails as you thought. Red was trying, but he still had a ways to go if he now had to prove himself to two of your betas. At least Pap was willing to let Red have a chance without you having to argue for it. “Thank you, Papyrus. I really appreciate you being reasonable with this.”

Pap gave you a curt nod and stared out into the woods. His hands fidgeted with the shirt he held and before you could ask him what was wrong, he said softly, “DO YOU… REALLY WANT TO MARK SANS, TOO?”

The lights in his sockets flickered strangely when he looked back at you. Slowly, you nodded again. “Is that… a bad thing?”

“NOT EXACTLY.” Pap’s fidgeting grew worse and, for a brief moment, you were reminded of Butch. “IT’S JUST… I THINK IT WOULD BE GOOD FOR HIM. I KNOW HE COMES OFF A CERTAIN WAY SINCE HE’S THE HEAD OF THE HOUSE AND TAKES CARE OF ALL OF US BUT HE… REALLY NEEDS SOMEONE TO TAKE CARE OF HIM, TOO. HE’S HAD ALPHAS BEFORE BUT THEY ALL LEFT HIM BECAUSE HE CAN BE TOO LAZY AND STOPS TAKING CARE OF HIMSELF. BUT YOU’RE THE KIND OF ALPHA WHO TAKES CARE OF HER BETAS AND IF YOU’RE WILLING TO GIVE A LITTLE MORE TO HIM AT TIMES…”

You blinked, a little shocked that Pap would be this open to you about his worry for Sans. You had always known that Pap noticed more about his older brother than he let on. Of course, trying to pull things from Sans could be like pulling teeth at times, but the realization that Pap even went so far as to replace ‘depressed’ with ‘lazy’ to try and find a roundabout way of calling his brother out on his issue… was impressive. Perhaps a little insensitive, but you knew it was a lot easier for Pap and Sans to talk about being ‘lazy’ if there were others around.

“I’M SORRY TO DUMP THIS ALL ON YOU RIGHT NOW WHEN I KNOW YOU’RE WORRIED ABOUT MILORD AND THE BREECH.” Pap said quickly, an embarrassed orange flush creeping over his nasal ridge. “SANS TOLD ME YOU WERE HANGING OUT TONIGHT. I JUST KNOW HE’S HIDING SOMETHING FROM ME LATELY AND I’M WORRIED ABOUT HIM. DO YOU THINK YOU COULD CHEER HIM UP, EVEN IF YOU CAN’T GET HIM TO TELL YOU WHAT’S WRONG?”

“I’ll definitely try,” you said quietly, a bittersweet smile tugging at your lips. “I understand your worry, Pap. I’ve known Sans is depressed for a while now. We’ve been trying to work on it together, little by little.”

“YOU HAVE?” Pap’s eye lights widened with surprise. “THAT DOESN’T… BOTHER YOU? HIS LAZINESS?”

“Not at all.” You shook your head, your smile growing. “If he’ll let me help him with his problems, then I want to do it. I want him to be happy, too. If he’s not, then I want him to know that I’ll still be there for him. I love him no matter what.”

All of the air left your lungs as Pap suddenly pulled you into a back-breaking hug.

“I KNEW I LET MYSELF FALL FOR THE RIGHT WOMAN.”

~~~

Dinner was, once again, a rather solemn affair as the five of you gathered around one end of the table to keep each other company. That didn’t stop any of you from glancing at the empty chairs every now and then, or the silences between conversations from stretching out uncomfortably. It would’ve been nice to hear Mutt’s sarcastic remarks, or Milord’s snappy comebacks. Even Edge’s menacing air was missed, if Red’s gloomy attitude was anything to judge by.

“Hey Red,” you quietly caught his attention by nudging his knee with yours. His crimson eye lights found you in Edge’s usual seat and you quietly passed him your unlocked phone beneath the table. “I made a playlist for you on the bus this morning. Do you want to check it out after dinner? It’s got some guitar stuff in there, too, to help you out.”

“I ain’t in th’ mood,” Red growled softly, pushing your phone away with the back of his hand.

“You can still use my phone,” you softly insisted, pushing the device into his hand. “I know you’re worried, Red. I am too. But I’d rather you listen to anything you want and not… fall back on old habits.”

Red’s crimson lights darted past you, lingering at the silver fridge. He quietly pulled the cord for his headphones out, plugged in the phone, and pulled the speakers out of the fur of his hood and onto his skull. You watched him shove the phone into his pocket and silently push his food around his plate with worry furrowing your brow.

Your eyes darted to Sans, who was listening to Pap with a vacant expression on his skull. Pap, perhaps to make up for the silence in the kitchen, was eagerly telling Axe and Butch about how he believed the engine in the car worked. Butch was nodding, his white lights shining with curiosity, while Axe had that dazed look he had worn once when Mutt tried to explain the mechanics of Skyrim to him.

Sans would understand if you went to go check on Red. You just needed to find a good time. After the movie would be the best point, most likely. Especially if you ended up having a deep conversation under the night sky. He had said he just wanted to stargaze, but you knew something was bothering him. His recent nightmare, Pap’s worry, all of it pointed to something going on. You strongly suspected it had to do with the resets. You had never lasted past spring before and he had panicked when you told him your break was rapidly approaching.

Empty plates slowly started to pile up in front of Axe as everyone finished their food. Red was the only one that pushed a nearly full one across the table and Axe had tilted his skull in confusion at the gesture. Since you were finished as well, you stood up and quietly took everything to the sink to start dishes.

“...is he… okay?” Axe asked you under his breath, following you over to the sink as he dumped the contents of Red’s plate into his void. You looked over your shoulder and followed his gaze to Red’s retreating back. You shook your head once at Axe and he frowned.

“OH, SANS! THERE’S SOMETHING I WANT TO SHOW YOU REALLY QUICK!” Pap jumped up from the table, excitement lacing his loud voice. He grabbed Sans by the wrist and pulled him from his chair.

“Paps, I’m kind of-”

“IT’LL ONLY TAKE A MINUTE!”

You chuckled to yourself, appreciating Pap’s determination to not let the heavy mood of the house affect his bubbly personality. Or maybe that was just his way of dealing with things - to focus on the good that he had instead of the looming bad. He had done that before with you and your conversations; pointed out the positive.

“...are you… keeping Red with you again… tonight?” Axe asked, leaning against the marble counter while he watched you. Butch, who was brining you the dirty pans from the stove, looked curiously between the both of you.

“I don’t think I can. Someone else needs me,” you sighed. While you wanted to make sure Red was alright, it would be impossible for Sans to talk to you about what was on his mind if any of his other brothers were present. It hurt, thinking you had to choose between who to comfort, but Sans had asked you for this night and he rarely asked you for anything. “It would be easier if I could be in many places at once,” you quietly wished aloud.

“he can… spend time with us,” Butch offered, scratching at the side of his jaw in thought. “Axe and I… were going to watch movies. I don’t mind… if Red wants to join.”

You beamed at him, appreciating that he was so willing to keep Red company. “I’m sure he could use the distraction. Just don’t push him to talk and give him space if he starts getting angry…”

“...he’s always… angry,” Axe shrugged, rolling his single eye light. He stuffed his hands into the pockets of his threadbare, blue hoodie “...we’ll keep an eye light… on him, Willow. ...and get you… if we think… we can’t handle him.”

“Thank you,” you said, smiling at both of them. “I really appreciate you both looking out for him.”

“...if he… looks out for us,” Axe added, a vacant grin on his skull, “...we’ll… do the same… for him.”

“ and we know he’s… nicer than he seems,” Butch said softly, smiling back at you. The two of them started to make their way out of the kitchen, do doubt to go find Red, and you caught Axe’s arm with a soapy hand.

“Can I ask for one more thing?” you asked, your tone slightly anxious. Axe nodded, his red light darting between your face and soul spot. “Pap said he’s going to put the shelby back together tonight. I don’t like the thought of him outside all by himself…”

“...I’ll… keep a light on him… too.” Axe said, grinning. You breathed a sigh of relief and leaned in to kiss his cheekbone. He smirked mischievously, turned your chin, and caught your lips as you squeaked in surprise. “...you don’t… have school tomorrow, right?”

You shook your head, turning pink in the face as he snaked up between you and the sink, his hands pulling at your waist to hold himself against you. “...then… I want you… all to myself for… awhile after I… wake up.” He growled playfully, nipping at your ear, “...that follows… your rule, right?”

You nodded, closing your eyes and sighing in contentment as he kissed you again. His dexterous, red tongue swirled the taste of iron throughout your mouth and you felt yourself melting into his touch; heat filling you as you craved the comfort the gentle squeeze and grind at your waist offered.

“...not yet, Willow.” Axe teased, biting at your soft spot before slipping away from under your arms. You looked over your shoulder and caught his smirk beneath his hazy, red eye light. “...I don’t… want Butch to get… jealous.”

He left and you stared back at the half-filled sink of dishes. Did he just leave you hot and bothered? What a tease! You laughed to yourself, focusing back on cleaning before you could let your mind suggest what it was he wanted to do with you tomorrow. It probably wouldn’t be a good thing to meet up with Sans and have desire singing in your soul.

But you were really glad to have Axe on your side again.

With your small chore done, you headed back upstairs to your bathroom to wash your face and neck. In your room, you took a moment to straighten things up while you waited for Sans to be done with whatever Pap was showing him. He still hadn’t arrived after you changed into your green sweater and grey sweats. You fussed around, packing your backpack with study materials for Wednesday and lighting a stick of lavender incense for the ceramic horse head. You were just starting to debate on going to find Sans when you finally heard a knock at your door.

You flicked your lights on before descending the narrow staircase, brightening your dusk-filled room. On the other side of the door was Sans, as you had guessed, but a small snort of surprise left you as you saw what he was wearing. Instead of his usual blue hoodie, white t-shirt, and black shorts; he instead wore a button up, white shirt and jeans. Both looked far too big for him and both the sleeves and legs had been rolled up several times for his bony hands and feet.

“...don’t.” Sans’ low voice said flatly, matching the thin line of his eye lights. You covered your mouth, recognizing Pap’s clothes from your date the other night, and stepped aside to let Sans inside.

“Wh-what’s the occasion?” you snickered, following Sans back up the narrow stairs. “Do you guys have a clothes swap holiday I’m unaware of?”

“apparently,” Sans grumbled, falling face first onto your bed so that this low voice was muffled, “when I told Pap we were hanging out, he thought we were having a date! I look stupid, don’t I?”

“N-no, you look fine!” You bit your tongue, hard, to try and stifle your giggles as you sat next to him on your mattress. “I just wish I would’ve known this was a date. Otherwise I wouldn’t be sweating it.”

You elbowed him in the ribs and gestured towards your sweatpants. He chuckled appreciatively at your attempt at a pun. 

“I still look stupid,” Sans mumbled, burying his face back into your cream colored sheets. “Pap can pull this off, but not me.”

“You just need something a bit smaller, that’s all,” you said comfortingly. You gently started to rub his back, your mind whirring as you tried to think of a solution. “Why don’t you borrow some of my clothes? You’re only, what, an inch or so taller than me?”

“eh... when they call it ‘dressing up’ I don’t think they mean an actual dress.”

“I do own things besides dresses, you know,” you said, crossing your room to your pine dresser to find your yoga pants and a band shirt you had picked up while at the mall with Abby today. You turned the yoga pants over in your hands, wondering if Sans would be uncomfortable in them given his love of loose-fitting clothing. You shrugged, grabbed a pair of workout socks from your dresser, and disappeared behind it to swap out your pants.

“Here,” you said, tossing your grey sweatpants and the band shirt over to Sans. It landed on the back of his skull with a dull ‘thump’ and he lifted himself off the mattress to examine it. You sat on the floor, your back to him for privacy, as you pulled on your black socks to cover the scars over your lower legs. “If you want your own dress clothes,” you offered, wiggling your toes to test the feeling of the grips under the socks, “I could pick some up for you when I go to the mall?”

“don’t worry about it,” Sans said. You chanced a glance over your shoulder and caught him just as he was finishing pulling the t-shirt over his head. The black shirt featured a broken clock on a chain and the band name ‘A Day to Remember’ written on it in spiky writing. “heh,” Sans chuckled, pulling at the front of the shirt to examine it, “did you get this for me?”

“Not specifically. I just like the band, to be honest.” You flopped onto your mattress, searching for your phone, before you remember that you had given it to Red to listen to music. You cursed to yourself, realizing that you couldn’t show Sans the band  _ and _ you had kind of screwed yourself out of watching a movie upstairs. “Though, I don’t know if you’d like them or not. You’re so laid back you don’t strike me as a metal fan.”

“yeah, I don’t really make a habit of spinning around on the ceiling.”

You stared at Sans, blinking, before the two of you broke out in a fit of giggles together.

“Could’ve at least given me time to steel myself for that one. You really go for gold with your jokes, don’t you?” you chuckled, smiling as his low giggle turned into a roar of melodic laughter.

“curse this silver tongue of mine!”

“At least you don’t seem to need ketchup to be around me this time,” you said, grinning like an idiot as Sans laid back on the bed with his hands behind his smiling skull. You watched him, your eyes searching the side of his bony face as he watched the smoke of your incense curl up towards the ceiling. “I’m glad you seem like you’re doing okay,” you said quietly.

“why wouldn’t I be?” he asked, turning his skull ever so slightly to stare at you. 

“I… don’t know,” you shrugged, chewing on your lip as you focused your gaze up to the peak of the roof above. “I just worry about you, Sans. I know you have a lot on your mind and you don’t always talk about it. I guess I… just wanted to check in with you.”

The length of silence that stretched between the two of you made you feel uneasy. You glanced back over at Sans, noting the lazy smile he wore like a mask with a furrow of your brow.

“Sans?” You sat up and leaned over him, forcing him to look at you. “What’s going on?”

“nothing.” Sans smiled at you, his white lights hard and unreadable. He pulled at your wrists and gently eased you down until you were curled up at his side. “don’t worry about it.”

“Sans, you promised me that you would talk to me if something was wrong.”

“I know. and nothing is wrong, so stop asking,” he snapped, an irritated undercurrent lacing his low voice. You blinked up at him in surprise. Had you pushed too much? 

He looked down at you, his white lights softening ever so slightly. Sans pressed his teeth to your forehead, kissing you gently before he rolled onto his side, buried his face in your hair, and held you close to him. “just... give me this, Thyme. one day to remember. of me and you and nothing else. no talk of the resets, or any of my problems. just one night before…”

He drifted off, his grip tightening around you. You didn’t miss the weight in his tone or how the words started to choke. You could feel the slight tremor in his limbs as you held him back and listened to his small, gasping breath as he tried to hold everything inside. You scooted up the bed, adjusting yourself, and he clung to you like you were going to disappear. Like you were going to die in his arms.

“I’m not going anywhere,” you said gently, moving his forehead to rest against your chest as you traced your fingers over his skull. “We can spend the night together, just like you wanted. I won’t make you talk about anything you don’t want to but… don’t lie to me.”

Sans nodded against you and his hands slipped beneath your sweater to touch your back. You shivered at the gentle, exploratory touch of your scars, but you allowed it. He just wanted reassurance that you were there - that his was real. If he didn’t want to talk about it right now, that was okay. As long as he did eventually.

_ “Hey, darling, I hope you’re good tonight _

_ And I know you don’t feel right when I’m leaving” _

You could feel him relax against you as you softly sang. He tilted his skull, listening to you, as you tried to put as much comforting intent into your words as you could.

_ “Yeah, I want it, but no, I don’t need it _

_ Tell me something sweet to get me by _

_ ‘Cuz I can’t come home until they’re singing _

_ La. Lalala. Lalalaa.  _

_ Till everyone is singing.” _

His breath was warm, and even, on your skin and you glanced down at him. Sans’ sockets were closed and his touch across your scars had stilled as he let your music wash over him.

_ “And hey, sweetie, but I need you here tonight _

_ And I know that you don’t wanna be leaving _

_ Yeah, you want it, but I can’t help it _

_ I just feel complete when you’re by my side _

_ But I know you can’t come home until they’re singin’ _

_ La. Lalala. Lalalaa. _

_ Til everyone is singing _

_ La. Lalala. Lalalaa. _

_ If you can wait till I get home _

_ Then I swear to you, we can make this last _

_ If you can wait till I get home _

_ Then I swear, come tomorrow, this will all be in our past _

_ And it might be for the best.” _

The song wasn’t over, you still had another chorus and the outro, but Sans had cupped your cheek and drowned the rest of your notes with the taste of rain. He gently pushed you back onto the bed, pulling at you with the need to be close. You wrapped your arms around his shoulders as he climbed on top of you, willing to be what he needed in this moment.

He settled himself between your legs, kissing you sweetly. The hand that cupped your cheek slid back and through your hair, holding you close. The other, limited in movement since he had himself propped up on that elbow, clutched at your chest - at the same spot he had once touched your soul through.

“dammit…” he cursed, letting his skull fall to your neck just as the first pulses of desire started to rush through your veins. “I’m… I’m sorry, Thyme. I-I just… I can’t.”

“It’s okay,” you said gently, reassuring him even as he pushed himself off you to sit at the end of the bed. He buried his face in his hands, his elbows resting on his knees, and you crossed the length of the bed to hug his back. Resting your cheek on his shoulder blades, you said softly, “We don’t have to do that right now.”

“I want to!” Sans growled, his anger causing his ribs to vibrate ever so slightly beneath your touch. “I really, really do! this is the only timeline where we’ve been close enough to do that and now that we have a moment alone I can’t  _ get it up?!  _ what the hell is wrong with me? I’m running out of  _ Thyme _ and-”

“Sans, please,” you sat up as jumped to his feet; pacing restlessly in front of you. “ _ Please _ talk to me and tell me what’s wrong!”

“what do you think?” Sans snapped, frustrated. His hands pulled at his temples as his pacing quickened. “the fucking reset is what’s wrong! it’s coming, I know it is, any day now and what the hell kind of male am I that can’t protect you from it? why the hell do I have so much power if I can’t stop this curse?”

“Sans-” you jumped to your feet, trying to stop his restless movement, but he smacked your hands away.

“-and this  _ fucking _ spring is so warm and I  _ hate _ seeing the snow vanish and the grass grow!”

“Sans-!”

“I don’t want to talk about it!” Sans shouted, the air thrumming with an unknown force. You took a step back, unable to stop a spike of fear in your heart. But that, more than you trying to speak, finally caught Sans’ attention. His white eye lights focused on your chest, wide with his own terror.

“I think you do,” you said quietly. “You’re talking about it now, aren’t you? Please, Sans, let me help you. We can figure this out together. We can stop the resets together.”

“no, we can’t.” Sans sighed, defeated, and sat back on the bed with his skull in his hands. “I wrote it all out, Thyme. everything I remember since the first timeline when you came here. there’s nothing there that can help. nothing except for things that will cause you pain and even if there was a way to stop this… I won’t do it. that nightmare I had… the ones I’ve been having. I see them. Frisk and Chara. I won’t let you become like them. if stopping the resets means destroying your soul I won’t do it.”

“We have to,” you said, trying to keep the frustration out of your own voice. One of those names sounded familiar to you, but you didn’t know why. “Sans, we have to! These resets are destroying your mind!”

“I’d rather be crazy than hurt you,” he said bitterly. “think about it. it’s not so bad, is it? if you’re right and the reset never happens, then I was right to not tell you about the other timelines. if it does... you’ll never truly die. even if I end up unable to place when I am you’ll always have the others to care for you.”

“That’s not fair,” you growled, standing in front of him with your arms crossed and your eyes burning. “You’re not doing some kind of noble sacrifice by keeping this all to yourself, know that? Despite what you think, we’re going to notice! Papyrus already has! He knows something is going on with you, even if you don’t say anything! And do you think, for even a second, that it doesn’t hurt me when I talk to you and you can’t remember what you mean to me?”

“you won’t remember that, next timeline.” Sans stared at the floor, refusing to look up, and you threw your hands up in anger.

“What happened to trying?” You grabbed the sides of his skull, tilting his face up and forcing him to look at you. “What happened to your promise to keep pushing? What happened to the Sans I fell in love with, the one who was just laughing a moment ago and the one who wants this timeline to never go away? I don’t know who this is, sitting here on my bed, just accepting defeat even though he has someone right here in front of him who wants to fight with him!”

“I can’t…” Sans mumbled, a bright blue drop of plasma leaking from his socket and over your hand. “I don’t want to destroy you.”

“I don’t want you to destroy yourself,” you huffed stubbornly. “Let me remind you, in case you’ve mistaken it for another timeline. I had you write everything down so we could try to see if there was a way to stop the resets. You agreed to tell me about the other humans, this Chara and Frisk, so that we could try and think of a way to stop their fates from happening to me. I _want_ _to help you._ Please, please let me.”

Another droplet of plasma leaked out from his other socket. His white lights searched your face, silently pleading for you to stop what you were doing.

“Sans, I’m okay with this,” you pressed, sitting beside him and gently embracing him. “I can handle whatever it is you have to say. You know I love you. It’ll hurt more to know your suffering by yourself. If I can do anything, just one thing, at least let me carry this with you. We can still have a wonderful night. Let’s talk about all this and get it in the open. Remember how good it felt when you told me about the timelines? We can do that again, then we can go and sit beneath the stars and enjoy ourselves knowing that there are no more secrets between us. Deal?”

“I just wanted you to be happy,” Sans mumbled, clinging to you. “in your last days; however many you have. you already have so much weighing on you and I don’t want this to be the thing that crushes you.”

“How about this,” you said, pulling away slightly and wiping the plasma from his face with our sleeve, “You tell me about the timelines and those other humans, I’ll tell you all the things I’ve never told anyone else about me and about That Day. That way, if we are too late in this timeline, then we can start again earlier in the next one. If I believed you this time just for knowing about my old cat then there’s no way I won’t believe you again if you know other things, too. Even though you broke your promise to me, I’ll forgive you this time if you swear on my life that you won’t give up until we stop the resets. Can you do that?”

“I can’t-”

“ _ Sans. _ ”

Still, he hesitated.

“And I’ll tell you about some things that have been bothering me,” you added quietly. “Things that… I haven’t told anyone else. Is that fair?”

A heavy sigh escaped him. “alright,” he mumbled, leaning into your touch. The smallest hint of a grin tugged at the corner of his mouth and he chuckled, “I really should’ve learned by now that I can’t argue with you. not when you’re this determined.”

“Yup!” You nodded. “You can win with some things, but not when it comes to me taking care of you.” You turned him from you, patting the back of his pelvis to usher him towards the stairs. “Now go get that stuff on the timelines! And I swear to you, Sans Gaster, if you aren’t back within five minutes I’m going to go downstairs and  _ clean your room. _ ”

Sans froze, his white lights the size of pinpricks as he turned back to you. “...you wouldn’t.”

“Oh, I’m very serious.” You sat on the bed and crossed your arms, glaring at him. You never thought you’d use Pap’s tip to you this way. But if threatening to clean his room made him understand how serious you were, then you were willing to show that card in your hand. “I’m already debating on doing it anyways, since you lied to me  _ and _ broke a promise. I forgive you, but I still have to punish you for it.”

“but…” Sans’ lights shrank even further as you narrowed your glare at him. He quickly disappeared on the spot, leaving behind only the smell of damp wood.

A heavy sigh escaped you and you flopped back onto your bed. You pressed the heel of your palms into your eyes and took a deep, steadying breath. It had been a good idea to burn that stick of lavender. It didn’t calm you down completely, but it helped.

Had you been too harsh with Sans? You wondered, letting your arms flop to the side as you searched the ceiling for any answers. He was so difficult sometimes. Not that you were exactly one to talk… Getting angry may have yielded results, but you didn’t want him to hide more things in the future because of it.

It was the right thing to do, you quietly reassured yourself. You had tried letting him come to you, then being gentle about getting him to open up. These were serious problems he was hiding if they were starting to affect even his libido. There was no way you could begin to tackle his depression if you couldn’t work on the source of it.

You would make it up to him, you thought as you turned your head to the smell of his magic. Once this was dealt with, and he felt better, you had an idea of how you could tie together a reward and a punishment. You’d have to get his consent, of course, and hope that he still enjoyed being submissive to you.

Sans stood before you, a stack of papers in his hand, and you recognized the list of chores that Milord had made scrawled across the back in neat, minute writing.

“this is everything,” Sans handed the stack to you. You took it and saw that his writing, an almost illegible chicken scratch, covered the back of the chore lists. There were bullet points all over the top page, some grouped by a circle. Many things had been scratched out, or moved around by use of arrows, or scribbled in the margins.

It was an utter mess.

“I tried to keep everything in the proper timeline,” Sans said, sitting next to you as you thumbed through the other pages with your eyes wide. “it wasn’t easy since they change gradually over time, for the most part. I’m sure there’s some stuff that belongs in other timelines, but at least everything is there.”

“What do you mean by everything?”

“things that were significant, or made that timeline unique.” Sans reached over you and flipped to the back page. “like our current one. there’s lots of things that make this unique. your acceptance of the timelines knowledge, becoming an alpha, sharing what happened to you on That Day and our claim… of course, this is just the stuff I know. there can be a bunch of other stuff that I’ve never experienced during these timelines that could repeat but if I didn’t experience it…”

“I understand,” you nodded, focusing on a circled group halfway through the stack. Sans put his hand over it, covering the information, and you looked up at him.

“I want to remind you,” Sans said firmly, his low tone serious, “that you might not like everything you see. your causes of death are many. this is the last time I’ll ask… are you sure you want to see this? this might change your opinion of my brothers. Edge isn’t the only one who’s killed you before.”

“I want to see,” you said quietly, swallowing past a lump in your throat. Sans slowly took his hand away and you looked at the page once again. There, at the end of the circled bullet points, was a small note.  _ ‘3 weeks, 2 days. Starved to death.’ _

You flipped around, not focusing on any one page or sequence at a time. At the end of another group was a scribble of-  _ ‘2 weeks, 6 days. Mauled by Axe.’ _

_ ‘4 days. Head crushed in by Edge.’ _

_ ‘3 weeks, 5 days. Jumped off the roof.’ _

_ ‘1 week, 1 day. Impaled by Milord.’ _

_ ‘5 weeks, 2 days. Death by illness.’ _

“H-how… how many times?” you asked, feeling slightly light headed to see all those end notes. All those times you had died.

“over the course of two and a half years… 19 times.” Sans mumbled, his tone morose. He flipped towards the end of the stack, pointing out two groupings. “these two are the longest, but they end…”

_ ‘12 weeks, 6 days. Disappeared.’ _

_ ‘12 weeks, 3 days. Disappeared.’ _

The last group, rather than have any kind of end note, just had a question mark. It was the current timeline.

“they are significantly longer than the others. I’m not sure why.” Sans said, his hand coming to rest on your back as you stared blankly at the papers. “but they all end the same. you disappear and I have no idea where you go. I just wake up one day and… it’s the beginning, again.”

“How are you sure I’m disappearing and it’s not one of the others?” you asked, thumbing back through the other pages to see more deaths. Edge as a cause was peppered throughout, but the other brothers and accidental deaths were more common during the beginning timelines.

“because in the longer timelines, they all like you to some degree.” Sans leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees, as he watched you. “it’s a strange common factor, but I’ve included it in the notes. It can’t be linked to stopping the resets, though. why would our opinion of you change that? you’ve never hit 12 weeks before without disappearing. if you liked us, why would you leave? I wondered if Red might have something to do with it...”

He froze, his pinpoint eye lights jumping up to study your expression.

“It’s not him,” you said, shaking your head. “At least, for this timeline it’s not. He left that life behind.”

“you... know, then?”

“Yup,” you nodded. “How much do you know about Red?” you asked, curious. If he knew more than he let on, then it would be easier for you to rule Red out as the cause of the disappearances.

“not much, to be honest.” Sans shrugged, deliberately vague.

“But you know that he was a boss and why he was banished?”

“I know he used to be a boss and that he was banished, but not why.”

You hummed thoughtfully and looked back to study the longest timelines. None of them were past 13 weeks. That was 3 months, plus one week. That last week was the first one of April - your spring break. No wonder Sans had panicked when he heard how close you were to it. You flipped back and took your time going through each timeline, trying to remember key points to cross reference.

“All of them are under a month,” you said quietly, having quietly put your emotions about your deaths in a box to deal with later. “Except for the 12 weeks ones and these two at 5 and 6 weeks. But it’s strange… death by illness and infection?”

“that was a fox bite,” Sans clarified, “both times. you refused to see a doctor since you didn’t have the money and we didn’t know how to care for you. monster food doesn’t cure illness.”

“Most likely rabies or blood poisoning, if I let a wound fester,” you mumbled, thumbing back through the pages to double check a hunch. “You even put all my marks from the others in here, too.”

“it’s significant,” Sans shrugged. “my kind don’t mark lightly, Thyme.”

You nodded, flipping through the notes again. Sans was right, aside from the greater opinions of the guys during the 12 weeks timelines, there weren’t any significant patterns that could help you. There was, as he warned, plenty to hurt you. It was hard to imagine that Axe would maul you, or that Milord would impale you. They weren’t, you reminded yourself, the same people this time around. Just like you weren’t the yous of previous timelines.

“What about those other humans?” you asked quietly, silently hoping for some answer. “Chara and Fr-” you paused, suddenly remembering where you had heard that name before. “Frisk is the ambassador! That kid!”

“heh, yeah,” Sans smiled bitterly and hung his head.

“But you said their soul was destroyed beyond repair?”

“that was Chara, not Frisk. Frisk is…” Sans picked at the knee of his borrowed sweatpants, a pained look on his skull. “they’d be better off dead, honestly.”

“Why’s that?” you asked, your brow furrowed with confusion. “I saw them on tv back when monsters were first announced to be living in Mt. Ebott. They seemed like a normal kid.”

“do you ever wonder why they never kept fighting for monster rights?” Sans asked, his tone heavy. He laid back on your bed, his hands behind his skull, and stared up at the ceiling. “it’s because they can’t.”

“What happened to them?”

Sans sighed again and patted the space next to him for you to take. “if I’m doing this, I’m starting with the first.”

_ Chara. The first human with the power to reset. _

_ They were the first one I met, and the first soul I ever truly hated. _

_ Back when I had met them I was still learning how to pick myself up despite my mourning for Wings. Pap was still a little kid - he was shorter than me. _

_ When it first started happening, the resets, I thought Pap was just messing with me. He would repeat things he said to me the day before, or ask my help solving puzzles he had already solved. I didn’t think much of it. He was excitable and would do things his own way, so if he wanted to try and solve the horoscope again who was I to tell him he couldn’t? _

_ It got really weird for me when a friend I used to visit started telling the same jokes. They never repeated jokes; it was one of the reasons she and I got along so well. I just figured she was having an off day and left it at that. _

_ I didn’t recognize it then, but the days were repeating. I knew something was wrong, I kept hearing rumors of the same people disappearing, but I never made the connection. Our village was close to the borders of The Ruins - monsters disappeared if they weren’t careful around that Feral infested place. _

_ I had no idea, honestly, what I was dealing with the first time I met them. They seemed like just a human child. I didn’t know any other humans. But Pap was excited to meet them, so we took them back to our home. A small, hungry, silent child. Pap fussed over them, insisting that we keep them and make them part of the family. I agreed. I had no reason not to. _

_ And then they killed Pap. _

_ I watched them plunge the knife into his ribs, into his soul. _

_ I watched him turn to dust in front of my eyes. _

_ I killed them. Without hesitation or mercy for a child, I tore their soul from their body and screamed in grief while I did so. _

_ Then I woke up to Pap shaking me awake in my bed. _

“he was never the same, after that.” Sans said quietly, his hand squeezing yours tightly. “I’ve… always wondered if his soul remembers it. his death. maybe that’s why he can heal and leaks magic, because his soul is still trying to recover from the shock.”

“So you… killed them? Chara?” you asked, turning onto your side so you could hold Sans close.

“many times,” Sans nodded. 

_ I met them again and again. No one believed me when I tried warning them about this kid. Fallen humans are rare in the Underground, why would they? So to keep Pap safe, I started going out on my own to search for Chara and where they appeared.  _

_ I watched other monsters die over and over again to their knife as I chased that kid. Somehow, they knew me. They avoided me and when I cornered them I watched them reach inside of their clothes and reset time. It wasn’t until I nearly lost my mind and tore their soul apart in frustration that the resets finally stopped. That last time I killed them was the last time I woke up in my bed that day. That timeline had finally stopped repeating. _

_ I’m sorry to admit this to you, Thyme, but… part of the reason why monsters hate humans so much might be because of me. There was already the prejudice we held onto from the war, but after Chara I had no love for humans and I did everything in my power to warn my fellows just in case another fell. Despite my fallen grace as the ex-royal scientist I still had a lot of friends in high places. Friends in the Guard and in Court. I didn’t tell them about my experience in exact terms, but I told them enough that they believed ‘the mad skeleton’ and put out a watch against all other humans. _

_ So you can imagine my surprise, many years later, when one of my friends begged me to protect a human. They begged me to promise to protect them and shield them from harm because they were good. _

_ I didn’t believe that, but I did promise to watch over them. If they turned out to be another Chara I would destroy them, too. _

_ But Frisk was nothing like Chara. Frisk was a pure Determination soul that sought mercy with everyone they came across. Completely unlike Corruption, the anti-soul of Chara. _

“Wait, anti-soul?” you asked, propping yourself up onto your elbow to raise a brow at Sans.

“it’s a theory of mine,” Sans explained. “I told you before that monster souls are pure white, right? when our soul turns on us and makes us Feral, it becomes black. our souls already corrupt slightly from LOVE and EXP and I can see it judging by the amount of grey or black tainting the white. human souls, I reason, can become tainted from it, too. Chara had an insane amount of LOVE in their soul and because of this, they became an anti-soul: Corruption. you could turn into one too, Thyme, if you had enough LOVE or EXP. instead of Kindness, you’d be Animosity. Bravery becomes Cowardice, Perseverance becomes Apathy… I’ve met enough humans since those two to believe that my theory is right. I wouldn’t be able to prove it, of course. not without taking a pure soul and subjecting it to vast amounts of LOVE and EXP to see if there was a change but… I thought Chara was Justice, when I first met them. that’s why I trusted them at first. they felt like Justice, but when I looked at them with my Sight, I could see their soul was all wrong. it was inverted and stained with black; an anti-soul.”

“What about Determination and Honesty?” you asked, feeling a nagging thought at the back of your mind. Sans couldn’t tell that Chara had become an anti-soul? At least, he didn’t know until their actions showed what they had become and he looked at their soul himself.

“Irresolution and Deceit.” Sans sighed, his white lights flickering sadly. “that’s what happened to Frisk… kind of. they changed my mind about you humans, you know. their desire for mercy for all led me to wanting to protect them. hell, I made sure they found their way to the palace in New Home City so that they could be protected by the royal family. I introduced Frisk to Asgore myself before I went home.”

“How do you know Frisk had the power to reset?”

“because they died a lot,” Sans shrugged. “as a pacifist myself, I can tell you how hard it is to keep that up in the Underground. most monsters don’t give a damn if you don’t want to fight if you have something they want. I don’t like to fight, but I will if I have to. Frisk, on the other hand, had no power. no LOVE in their soul to give them the strength to hurt others for their own gain. they died quite a bit and I knew that they had the power to reset because the days started to repeat again.”

“What happened to them?”

“they lived with Asgore and the Queens for a while.” Sans rolled onto his side, propping his skull up on his elbow, as he looked down at you. “they helped break the barrier. Toriel told me after we became free that Asgore sacrificed himself to the machine. I thought that Alphys had given up manufacturing faux souls since she lacked Wings’ notes, but I was wrong. Asgore had that kid push the button and - boom - the barrier broke. Toriel herself pulled Frisk from the rubble. but they were never the same. that wild magic that made up the barrier rebounded on them like it did for me and twisted their soul.”

“How do you know?” you asked, your words barely above a whisper. You knew for yourself that Alphys didn’t manufacture souls - Asgore had bought them from Red. That pained expression crossed Sans’ skull again and he looked away from you at a spot above your head.

“after my bros and I moved up here… Toriel asked me to come back to the Palace.” Sans mumbled, “after Frisk made their choice to fight for monster rights and made the announcement to the other humans that we were here, they started having fits. moments where they would be themselves and then they would… be someone else. they hesitated for the smallest thing and all that determination that drove them was just gone. since I was the only one who had suffered a rebound from the machine.... it had been a long time since the accident and I seemed sane enough now, so Slians had the idea for Toriel to call me back to help Frisk. why do you think I don’t like talking about my ‘job’ to anyone? I go back to the Palace, every now and then, to try and help a human whose soul is caught between Determination and Irresolution. not quite one or the other. not a soul or an anti-soul. it’s painful for them. I can’t reverse what the exposure to the barrier did to them, but I can make them more comfortable. just like when I have to restrain my brothers, I can force my will on their soul and make them sleep. Tori doesn’t know how, but that doesn’t stop her from asking me to do it. I’ve begged her to just put Frisk out of their misery but… she won’t. Tori sees Frisk as her child and she’s told me again and again that she won’t throw another one away.”

You shifted, to hold Sans tightly in an attempt to comfort him, and ignored the nagging feeling you had hearing the nickname ‘Tori’ in favor of focusing on Frisk. To you, it sounded like Frisk suffered from something like Bipolar Disorder or maybe even Dissociative Identity, but you couldn’t know for sure without speaking to them yourself. “If Tori let Frisk return to the surface, to humans, we could probably help them.”

“Tori won’t allow it.” Sans sighed. “Frisk got that way because of their interaction with monsters and magic. do you honestly think the humans would see us in a good light if they saw what it did to a kid, being around us?”

You shook your head, understanding that Toriel had good intentions despite Frisk’s suffering. If the monsters sent a damaged kid down the mountain, humans would be howling for revenge. For a Queen that wanted peace, keeping Frisk with the monsters was a safer option. “So… how did you know when Frisk lost the power to reset?”

Sans chuckled sadly, his finger coming up to gently trace your jawline. “you showed up. I didn’t know you had it until after your first reset. thinking back, I think my guess would be right if I assumed Frisk lost the power to reset after their encounter with the barrier; after their soul was twisted beyond repair and they were driven mad. Chara lost the power after their soul was torn apart. you... I don’t know how, if, you’ll ever lose it, but I don’t want you to end up like them. I don’t want your soul destroyed just to stop the resets, but I don’t see how.”

“You said…” you sat up, holding your chin as you thought hard on what Sans had told you, “that Chara reached into their clothes before they reset time in front of you. How did Frisk do it?”

“they died, just like you,” Sans said, following your motion and sitting up, too. “my only guess to stop the resets for you is to keep you alive. since we’ve made it this far, now it’s just keeping you from disappearing. but I…” Sans leaned the side of his skull against your shoulder and wrapped his arms around your waist. “I don’t want to keep you locked up here. I tried, once before and… you were miserable and you didn’t understand and… that’s the only timeline where you…” he looked ashamed, pained, and he turned his skull away so you couldn’t see his expression. “I don’t know how Mutt does it, honestly, living here every day, unable to really go outside or wander around.”

“He told me he was always a bit of a shut in,” you said, kissing the side of Sans’ skull. “I know he wants to be free, but he tells me whenever I fuss about it not to worry too much. I think having us all around, knowing he exists, means everything to him. Knowing he’s loved so much gives him reason.”

“but you couldn’t live that way, could you?” Sans asked, turning so that you could see one of his eye lights. “even knowing why I want you to stay, you wouldn’t let me keep you here and safe, would you?”

“Sans… there’s a war looming between monsters and humans,” you said quietly, holding him tightly as if speaking that aloud was going to rip him out from under you. “I can’t hide away. Not if I can do something about it. I don’t think my petition can change the world, but dissolving segregation could be the first step to finding peace between our species. I have to go out and fight for it if I want you and your brothers to be free; for all monsters to be free.”

“how do you know about that?” Sans asked, sitting up so he could search you with curious eye lights.

“I…” you withdrew into yourself, unsure if you had just let something slip that would get Milord into trouble. It was Sans, you reasoned with yourself, but if it had been anyone but him… “How do you know?” you asked, turning the question back on him.

“I still go to Court sometimes,” Sans said simply. “Milord doesn’t see me, thank the stars, or I’d never hear the end of it if he knew I was allowed into Queen Toriel’s private chambers. but that’s where she keeps Frisk hidden, so that’s where I go.”

You chuckled, picking up on the implication Sans was giving you that Milord would think his brother was having an affair with a Queen. Without any warning, an ugly stab of jealousy hit you as you briefly imagined Sans in another woman’s bed. His white lights widened at you, darting between your flushed cheeks and your soul spot.

“are you… jealous?” he asked, a smirk tugging at the corners of his mouth. Your color deepened and he chuckled, “holy shit, you  _ are _ jealous!”

You gritted your teeth and looked away, unsure if it was okay to feel that way or not. Sans wasn’t marked by you. He wasn’t your beta and he was free to date anyone he liked. It would be incredibly hypocritical of you to have your betas and be here with him, now, already having been physical with each other despite his lack of mark. Yes, you had every intention of marking him, but if your betas had to share you then it made sense you had to share your betas. It was a complication of monster relationships you hadn’t really given much thought to until this moment in time.

But the idea that another woman would touch him, kiss him, and draw out the haze in his eye lights made your insides boil.

“you don’t seriously think that Tori and I have a thing, do you?” Sans asked, tilting your chin up. You avoided his gaze in an attempt to avoid the question. “Thyme, I like Tori, but not like that. I’m not a multi-alpha kind of guy; it’s way too much work.”

“Then how come you haven’t let me mark you, yet?” you mumbled, knowing that you sounded slightly childish.

Sans chuckled at the question, tilting your chin further so he could kiss you gently. “until I can find a way to stop these resets for good, I won’t take your mark. what kind of male would I be if I took your mark, knowing I’ve already failed so many times to protect you? I don’t deserve to call myself your beta, yet.”

“When will you think you deserve it, then?” you asked, pushing him back onto the bed so you could climb on top of him. His lights started to haze as you sat on him, scowling with indignity. “What, do you want to hold the power to reset in your own hands?”

“maybe,” he smirked.

“But all you have to do is keep me alive!” you huffed. “Love me, keep my heart beating, and stop me from chasing after shadows into the woods, that’s not so hard!”

“wait,” Sans grabbed your wrists, his eye lights snapping back into focus. “what shadows?”

You stilled, feeling like someone had just dumped cold water over you to douse the flames of your jealousy. This was something you wanted to talk to Sans about, but not like this. You had wanted to ask him questions, lead him up to it, not just dump it on him so he would think you’re losing your grip.

“Thyme,” Sans said firmly, pulling your wrists so you leaned over him. “what shadows?”

“It’s just stress,” you mumbled, feeling small beneath his unwavering gaze. You looked down at the broken clock on his t-shirt. “I hear this… this song and I get this crazy urge to chase something I can’t see. Last time it happened I saw a figure in the mist that I thought was Edge, at first, and I ran off into the woods after it.”

“how many times has this happened?” Sans asked, sitting up. You slid off his lap onto the bed and looked down at the hem of your sweater, feeling like you did something very wrong to keep this hidden.

“Twice,” you admitted softly. “The first time was that day I first wore the poppy dress. The second was the day we had all that mist.”

Sans hummed thoughtfully, his hand covering his frowning teeth. “that mist was recent… but the dress… that was quite some time ago. you said you heard a song and got the urge?”

“It’s just stress, Sans,” you said, trying to reassure yourself more than him as unease filled you from his reaction. “I just shouldn’t go outside by myself until I can unwind. That’s why I asked you to walk me to the bus stop.”

“I thought you were just worried about Milord and wanted company,” Sans mumbled. His brow had become furrowed in thought as he muttered to himself. “tell me about the song you heard.”

“It was just noise,” you shrugged, not wanting him to worry. At least he wasn’t acting like you were crazy, but this seriousness wasn’t very reassuring. “The second time it was a song I knew, but if I’m having hallucinations-”

“hallucinations don’t have the power to compel,” Sans said, his white lights narrowed at you. “do you know why music is banned for monsters?”

You nodded. “Red said it’s because of resonance. he said it can amplify feelings that are already in someone’s soul.”

“right, but here’s the thing, Thyme. that only happens with  _ monster souls. _ beings that are made of and can communicate by magic. it’s the same reason you’ll never be able to speak Font like us.”

“That can’t be right,” you furrowed your own brow, confused, and shook your head. “I’ve sang for Butch, Axe, and Red to calm them down before. I just sang for you! And I  _ can _ speak Font! Red’s been teaching me how!”

“no way, that doesn’t make any sense,” Sans shook his skull vigorously. “I can reason out what I saw happen with Butch. he cares about you and just your presence is enough to calm him down. you just did that for me; I was panicking you were going to leave me! no. you can’t resonate. you can’t speak Font. you’re  _ human _ and it’s  _ impossible. _ ”

You crossed your arms, feeling upset that Sans was flat out denying that you helped him feel better with your song. Why was that such a bad thing - that you could help him and his brothers? Definitely, you chirped at him, thinking about how stubborn he was being.

Sans looked up at you, his expression one of pure shock. You chirped at him again, feeling smug, and his jaw fell open.

“...how?” he croaked out, his white lights searching your face. “you’re… not half monster, are you?”

“No, my parents were human,” you huffed. “I don’t understand why this is a big deal.”

“because it raises two really big questions,” Sans said slowly, scratching at the side of his skull while he thought. “one, how are you able to resonate? that thing in the woods that you saw, that shadow, it has to be a monster. it’s been calling to your soul and trying to lure you away from here. that explains why you disappear around this time! but then the other question is… why does it want to kill you? hell, here’s a third one: how does it know you react to resonance? that first time it happened could’ve been a trial run, a test...”

“But I don’t  _ want _ to be led away from here!”

“think back, Thyme,” Sans said, his eye lights searching you. “when you heard those songs, what did you feel? that you had to run from here? that you were in danger and had to get away?”

“N-no, I…” you trailed back, straining your brain to remember what you were thinking in those two moments. “I… felt like I had to see something important. Then it was… I had to help someone. Pap and Axe were there for the first time, but they didn’t hear anything.”

“because resonance can’t amplify a desire in your soul that isn’t already there.” Sans poked your soul spot, as if for emphasis. “it sounds like a shyren, to be honest. only those monsters have enough control over the frequency of their voices to target individuals. but Mutt would’ve told us if he had spotted any strange monsters on the property and I can’t imagine Axe letting a stranger stay…”

You shifted on the bed, remembering the little flower monster in search of his toy. “There is one,” you said quietly, silently apologizing to him that you were breaking your promise. “His name is Flowey. He’s a little yellow flower monster that helped me find my way back here after I wandered into the woods. He wanders around looking for his toy on the property. Pap told me, after I came back, that he knew him and they’ve been friends for a long time.”

“I’ve never heard of him.” Sans shook his skull, a note of frustration in his low tone. “what does he look like? like that shadow you saw?”

“No, that shadow was big. I thought it was Edge! Flowey is small, usually, but I have seen him grow taller. His head is what grew bigger, honestly, and even if he grew as tall as Edge or Pap his flower would be disproportionate compared to that misty figure I saw.”

“then maybe it wasn’t a shyren. they’re small, too, and only hang out around water. the nearest river is on the edge of the property.”

“It was definitely close to the house. I saw it from the yard.” You shifted again, feeling scared. “Sans, should I be worried? What was that thing?”

“I don’t know. something that large… could only be a greater dog, a piscean… one of royal blood… or one of our brothers. a fuku wouldn’t make sense, they’re elementals and give off light. but then why couldn’t the others hear it?” 

“Sans, I don’t want to go outside tonight,” you mumbled, shivering from nerves. Sans snapped out of his thoughts at your voice. “I’m scared.”

“don’t be. we can still stargaze and enjoy ourselves.” Sans folded you into his embrace and kissed the top of your head. “I’m not going to let you wander off. if you start to, I’ll pull you back and use my Sight to find whatever’s out there.” He squeezed you tightly. “then,” he murmured, his ribs starting to vibrate with an angry growl. The air around you thrummed with energy and you turned your gaze in time to catch his black sockets. “then I’m going to tear their soul apart with my blaster.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The songs in this chapter are:
> 
> Itsumo Nando Demo by Yumi Kimura
> 
> If It Means A Lot to You by A Day to Remember
> 
> (: And, if you would like updates every now and then outside of AOE (like if I'm working on something or if I need to take time off for my health) please consider following me on Insta: https://www.instagram.com/oolongteacup426/?hl=en


	34. Bonus Chapter - Teatime for Two

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A very special thanks to all the lovelies below who submitted question and made this chapter possible! I appreciate all of you, not just the ones below, who have helped this story come so far with your love and encouragement. I hope I can keep making something that you all enjoy <3 And, as always, thank you so much for reading!
> 
> Darling_Angel ~Itiswhatitis  
> Lovzie ~ Jejune_Stylux  
> PopcornInator3000 ~ FireWood64  
> Kats____MoonS

Bonus Chapter! Teatime2

The soft scratching of an eagle feather quill filled the circular room. It darted across a piece of floating parchment under its own volition before it suddenly stopped and fell lifeless onto the wooden table. At the lack of noise, the mound of plushy pillows shifted as the sole inhabitant of the room slowly surfaced. Her dark, ruby red hair was wild and stuck up in every direction. The onyx black orbs of her eyes reflected the dozens of burning candles like so many stars as she rolled onto the dark marble floor. Oolong stretched, catlike, before rising to her feet. She tightened the length of frayed rope around her waist and straightened her oversized, baggy black dress across her pale, reedy frame.

She swiped the bit of parchment out of the air, her dark eyes narrowing at the hieroglyphs. Her mouth opened with a large, drawn out yawn, showing off her elongated canines, and she shook her mane of dark hair to chase away the last bit of sleep.

“Ah, not yet, dear.” She said to the parchment, her voice warbling ever so slightly. The thick paper curled in on itself with a disappointed crumple. “I’m expecting guests soon. Wait until they’re gone.”

Oolong sat on a cushion in front of the circular tea table to examine the stormy crystal ball at its center. With a gentle tracing of her fingertip over its surface, the smoke inside parted to reveal a cutaway of a large brick house and the inhabitants lurking within. She found four of the tiny figures and placed her pointer and pinky fingers against the glass at each of their locations. Inside the crystal, their forms were outlined with a white light.

She took a deep breath, held it, and blew against the crystal to fill it with fog. A tingling sensation ran up her arms as some of her magic was drained and she removed her hands from the crystal ball. Humming to herself, she stood and held her hands before her like a conductor in an orchestra. At her movement, objects started to fly around the circular room.

The eagle quill nestled itself safely upon a high, silver shelf behind tiers of burning candles. Books shuffled on the many, many shelves to allow things hidden behind them to come forth. A stone teapot and white, china cups settled in their places on the table. A blue jar floated over to dump a healthy serving of green leaves covered in tiny, purple, crystal-like flowers into the stone pot. Four cushions rose from the pile of her bed and settled themselves around the table for her incoming guests. The crumpled paper, the one filled with glyphs, she ate.

Oolong picked up the stone pot from the table with both of her hands, cradling it gently, as she took another deep breath. This time, as she exhaled, silver plasma carried on her breath and filled the tiny stone pot. With a tiny drum of her fingertips, silver steam rose from the spout as the belly of stone boiled. Gradually, the steam turned clear and she set it on the table with a satisfied nod.

She turned back to the many bookshelves filling the wall, lifting a blue jar filled with bottle caps and gently pushing aside a ragdoll wolf plushie in search of her spare silver platter. She paused, considering the platter and her incoming guests.

“No, that won’t do, will it?” she huffed to herself, poking at the platter to change it to a gleaming, polished copper. With a wave of her hand, the rest of the silver in the room likewise morphed into the burnt orange metal. “I’ll change it back after he leaves.”

The glass beads, the colors of moss and earth, tinkled together as her first guest found their way through the Void to her. 

“Hello, sweetheart!” Oolong turned, the copper platter and its dome in her hands, to greet Butch. He looked nervously around the room, his white lights wide at the sight of her and so many other strange things. He didn’t understand how he had gotten separated from his brothers. They were right next to him in the absolute dark, then he saw a light and tried to bring them towards it and ended up here. Alone. 

“It’s okay, honey, don’t be nervous,” Oolong patted one of the plush cushions by the table to offer him a seat. “You’re the best at navigating through this place, but your brothers aren’t far behind. Come join me, won’t you?”

Butch hesitated, afraid of this strange woman, but her calm, quiet demeanor and the soft smile she gave him while offering a steaming cup of tea was slightly reassuring. He chose a cushion and settled down, cradling the china cup in his hands so as not to spill it.

It wasn’t like he could run anywhere. It was either this room or the absolute dark of the tunnel he had just left. He did not like the thought of staying in a place where he couldn’t see, by himself. Butch wished again, for the thousandth time already in minutes, that he had control over his magic so he could try to shortcut back to Axe and his room, but he couldn’t feel his brother’s soul here...

The crystal ball was moved from the center of the table into the safety of Oolong’s lap as she, too, took a seat. The copper platter took the ball’s place and, with the dome removed, Butch’s expression brightened as a delicious assortment of treats was revealed. Balls of dark, chocolatey truffles nested in a tiny, dented copper tin; roasted sweet potatoes wrapped in wax paper and dripping in their own sugars, tiny glass cups filled with vanilla custard with tops of caramelized sugar. There was also a devil’s food cake topped with powdered sugar and dark, red roses made of frosting. All sat ready and waiting on the platter. With a gentle smile, Oolong offered the treats to Butch and his opinion of her rose greatly.

“Ah, here they are.” Oolong smiled as she heard the rough growls, raspy remarks, and melodic laughter of the others. Butch quietly sipped his tea, his anxiety melting away like ice beneath the floral steam. He remembered this woman now, and she was a friend. This place was safe.

“-think yer so fuckin’ clever, don’ yeh?” Red snapped, trailing the smell of smoke from the crimson plasma leaking out of his hands. He pushed his way through the curtain of glass beads with enough force to bounce the strands off the marble walls. Mutt, who was close behind him and holding up a ball of burnt orange plasma, let his retort fall short as he looked around the circular room.

“Huh. Wasn’t expecting this.” Mutt mumbled, his red eye lights finding the little animal skeletons scattered across the bookshelves. His lights narrowed at them, a small feeling of unease filling him at the motionless, posed creatures. One creature was very long and had no legs. ...was that a snake? 

“what were you expecting?” Sans asked, banishing the blue ball of plasma he held. His white lights staring at the low, wooden table and the host who sat on the far side of it. His shoulders had been tense with anticipation, but seeing Butch sitting so calmly, peeling back the wax paper to snack on a steaming sweet potato, eased his tension somewhat.

“I’m glad to see the rest of you made it safely,” Oolong beckoned them. She leaned over the table to pour tea into three more cups. “Come sit down while the tea is warm.”

“it’s okay…” Butch said to his brothers, offering them a shy, lopsided smile as they all hesitated to join. “Oolong is… really nice. and... she has snacks.”

Butch’s trust of their host was enough to convince Sans and Mutt that this was a relatively safe place. If the most timid of them all wasn’t afraid, why should they be? Red, however, was much more skeptical and chose to wander around the circular room while keeping Oolong within the sights of his crimson eye lights.

“th’ fuck is this place?” Red asked, picking up a lone, left combat boot from a shelf and examining it. He didn’t like being here, or not knowing how he got here. He didn’t like this woman and the strange energy she gave off or the low, buzzing noise her soul gave off like a hive of bees. He didn’t like the assortment of glass creatures on the shelves, either, or the way they caught the candlelight and made the black marble of the room glitter. 

“Her home,” Mutt explained, his burnt orange tongue darting out to catch a drop of tea on his sharp teeth. “We’ve been here before, but we forget unless we drink her special-tea.”

Oolong stared quietly to Sans, who had stilled after drinking her tea and stared at the tabletop while his white eye lights glitched. A sympathetic smile grew on her face. She had tried before, to tweek her special-tea so that Sans wouldn’t remember everything about his past visits once he drank, but to no avail. He just needed a bit longer than the others to absorb all the information that flooded back. At least she could still make him forget coming here when he left.

“don’ touch that!” Red growled, startling Mutt as he reached for the dented, copper tin of truffles. The crimson lights in Red’s sockets vanished as he turned to Oolong, his rage coming to a boil. None of this made sense. How the hell did they get here and what did this woman want with them? He couldn’t trust anything she offered, not without knowing the price she wanted him to pay. 

“I just want some company,” Oolong said calmly, slowly blinking her dark, star filled eyes at him. “You can eat and drink as much as you like if you answer my simple questions. Why don’t you sit down?”

Red froze, unsure of what to think. He couldn’t detect any lies from this woman, but she made him uneasy. His instincts were screaming not to make her angry, and his instincts were the thing he listened to when he first judged someone. With an irritated scowl, Red reluctantly plopped onto the end cushion on Butch’s left and glared at the steaming cup of tea Oolong set in front of him.

“Have I passed your judgement?” Oolong asked Red, a mischievous smile on her pale face. Red glared at her, too. He still didn’t trust her, but judging by the way the others ate, at least the food wasn’t poisoned. 

“yeh ain’t a liar, so far,” Red grumbled irritably, watching Mutt, who was on Butch’s other side, pull out his pack of cigarettes and light one of the black sticks. Oolong raised a brow at Mutt and his habit, then set the crystal ball back at the center of the table. With a few taps of her pale fingers, the ball slowly started to suck in the purple smoke to let it join the swirling mass within the crystal.

“Ah, come on, she’s not so bad,” Mutt grinned at the others and popped a spicy, chili truffle between his sharp teeth. Honestly, he was just excited to be someplace that wasn’t the house. The tea he sipped was calming, their host was pretty in a messy, exotic way, and he knew there was nothing to worry about here. Oolong was someone to trust; he knew that without a doubt. He couldn’t remember exactly what happened the last time he was here, but he had been here before.

“Well then, my lovelies, shall we get started?” Oolong clapped her hands together, a broad grin on her face. “The tsundere can join us once he gets his panties out of a twist and has some tea.”

“th’ fuck yeh just call me!?” Red snarled, jumping to his feet, jostling the table. Sans snapped out of his trance and laughed out loud, filing the small room with his melodic notes. Mutt snorted with suppressed laughter, breathing purple, clove-scented smoke all over the table.

“that’s... a good word for it,” Butch giggled quietly. He quickly shrank under the glare Red gave him and Oolong distracted Red by shoving the cup of tea into his hands with a flick of her finger.

“I’m just teasing you, you big cactus. Now drink some tea and have some cake,” she sighed, rolling her dark eyes. “Even Edge had a lot of fun when he visited last. If Edge trusts me, why don’t you?”

Red’s lights flickered back into his sockets as the room filled again with the stifled chuckles of his brothers. Edge had been here? That didn’t make sense, Edge didn’t trust anybody! He stared down into his cup at the light brown, floral smelling liquid and questioned his brothers’ judgement. The others seemed okay, and her statement wasn’t a lie, so…

Oolong smiled gently as Red sipped his tea and calmly took his seat. “Thank you, my prickly boy. I’m glad you all made it safely to visit me. Shall we get to know each other a little bit more? I’ll start you all off with something easy: what are your favorite colors?”

“you’ve asked that before,” Sans said, a lazy grin on his skull. He took a cup of custard and twisted, copper spoon to eat it with from the tray. “did you forget our answers from last time?”

“I’m not asking for my benefit,” Oolong shrugged.

Sans quirked his bony brow curiously at her. He had been expecting some kind of answer. Oolong grinned mischievously and Sans’ lazy smile widened. He remembered that any answers he wanted would need payment, first. 

“green,” Sans said without hesitating. The same color of that soul, that dark green of thyme. He also thought of the dense, overgrown green of the woods in deep summer, his favorite season, after the accursed greys and browns of spring had passed. He associated green with the color of life.

“Do stripes count?” Mutt asked, exhaling a plume of purple smoke towards the dark ceiling. At a shake of Oolong’s head, he shrugged. “Red, then. Not like my brother, mind, like the velvety, dark red off of a rose.” He hadn’t seen many flowers or plants, but something about that variant of red made his soul purr. Maybe the scent was part of it, too. It was sultry.

“I really like… white.” Butch smiled, thinking of the white of a blank canvas and the endless opportunities it suggested. Or the white of his favorite flower, the lily of the valley, which he had also named his favorite human after.

Red said nothing, but his mind wandered. He thought of the blue sky when he had first come to the surface. The endless expanse, the openness and freedom of it. Maybe it was that memory, or the damned tea he was drinking, but he gave Oolong a nod of thanks as she offered him a slice of devil’s food cake on a glass plate and ate it without complaint. She wasn’t pushing for him to answer, and that made her okay in his book.

“And what do you think of rainbows, which are culminations of all colors?” Oolong asked, tilting her head slightly in curiosity. 

Butch, surprisingly, was the first to answer. “I’ve… never seen one,” he admitted quietly, turning his teacup in his hands. “I don’t like… open spaces and… I don’t like staring at them, either. but the idea… is pretty.”

“What do you mean, you don’t like open spaces?” Mutt asked, staring at his little brother in surprise. “I know you like to stick to the house, mostly, but I’ve seen you go out into the woods before!”

“that’s… different.” Butch said pointedly. “the woods… don’t feel open.”

“Well you should look at the sky sometime!” Mutt grinned broadly, flicking his spent cigarette into the void behind his jaws with his burnt orange tongue. “Cloud watching is a great way to waste time and rainbows are really something. I thought I was seeing wild surface magic the first time I saw one.”

“there ain’t no wild magic on th’ surface, dumbass,” Red chuckled. His brow furrowed slightly at the memory of seeing so many colors streaked across the sky. He had honestly thought he was on another DT trip, at the time. Hell for all he remembered, he could’ve been. That was back when he first came to the surface and was still detoxing.

“I haven’t seen one, either,” Sans smiled at Butch, reassuring him. Sans didn’t have a big opinion on rainbows. “I prefer staring at the sky at night, not during the day.”

“Oh?” Oolong quirked her brow, eyeing Sans over her own cup of tea. “Do you have a favorite constellation, then?”

“Pegasus,” Sans’ grin grew as he stared across the table at Oolong. “now you answer one of mine, Oolong, since we’ve already paid our answers. how exactly do you make this tea?”

Oolong smiled, knowing that he was asking because he wanted to use it for himself. Not to increase his memory, he already had enough troubles with that as it was, but to reverse engineer its effects so he could forget.

“I’m sorry, Sans,” Oolong said gently, slowly blinking her dark eyes at him. “It is made with my own magic and you know very well that you can’t take anything from this room.”

“Is that how this works?” Mutt asked as he drained his first cup of tea. “We get to ask questions, too? I’ve got a couple.”

“An answer for an answer, darling,” Oolong purred and picked up her stone pot to pour them all a second cup of tea. Sans hid his feeling of disappointment behind the mask of a lazy grin and reached for the truffles sitting in front of Mutt.

“I wouldn’t, if I were you,” Oolong smirked, her dark eyes shining with amusement as Sans’ bony fingers paused over the chocolates. “They’re quite spicy.”

“Eh, they’re not that bad,” Mutt shrugged, fishing his cigarettes out of his pocket again. Butch, who didn’t like Mutt filling the enclosed space with purple smoke, (even with the filtering effects of the crystal ball,) quietly snatched his lighter off the table before Mutt could notice. “Not compared to ghost peppers. Robin got me one to try, once, and  _ those _ have some spice! But carolina reapers are something I really want to try. They’re supposed to be the spiciest thing you can eat after this cactus that produces resiniferatoxin.”

“th’ fuck’s th’ point a’ eatin somethin’ so hot? go lick lava if yer so hell bent on burnin’ a hole through yer magic.” Red rolled his eye lights. He raised a brow, clearly confused as Oolong laughed like a hyena from across the table. Red didn’t understand why his question was so funny to her and he scooted away on his cushion to create some distance between him and the crazy woman. 

Oolong knew the reason, though the others did not. Not even Mutt realized why he enjoyed tormenting himself so much. But it would be a lot of fun once he did understand that part about himself. She glanced down at her crystal ball as her laughter subsided, her fingers drifting across its surface to check the questions she had. There were some she would enjoy asking, oh yes, but not yet. The boys needed to be a bit more relaxed, first.

They, however, seemed to want to push things along as Mutt asked for Red, “Why was that so funny?”

“Oh, you’ll find out,” Oolong grinned mischievously, resting her chin on her hand as she examined Mutt. She could feel the curiosity, the confusion, radiating off him and silently asking her what she knew, but she had already answered a question. To give Mutt a hint, to tease him with the answer inside himself, she asked, “Tell me, Mutt, what is your biggest turn on?”

The unlit cigarette he held between his fingers slipped out of his grasp and rolled away on the dark, marble floor. The question surprised him. Most people weren’t so blatant with questions like this. Mutt didn’t mind talking about these kinds of things, far from it. He wasn’t ashamed of his sexuality. It was a natural part of life, after all, but he knew others (especially his brothers) were much more reserved about these things.

“Sorry, lady.” Mutt searched the floor for his lighter, to give him something to do besides look at their host, and avoided answering the question. “I have an alpha already and I don’t think she’d like it if I shared my kinks with another female.”

But that didn’t stop her question from running across his heated mind. He had many turn ons. Stripes was one - the way they wrapped around and accentuated the curves of the body always brought him to a simmer. He also loved being teased and he knew it gave him a thrill to be told he had to wait for satisfaction. The buildup and anticipation were enough to drive him nuts. But most of all, the thing he loved most, but was also the one thing he was afraid to admit aloud… was being marked. Feeling the points of her canines dig into his bones and the rush that came with her intent to want  _ him. _ To claim him as  _ hers _ and  _ no one else’s _ -

A deep, burnt orange flush flared up across his nasal ridge and Mutt avoided making eye contact with any of his brothers. He momentarily abandoned his search for the lighter to stare instead at the dark ceiling where purple smoke still lingered while his color increased.

“kinda fucked up shit are yeh into?” Red raised a brow at his brother’s reaction, leaning back to examine Mutt in a new, skeptical light. “I ain’t never seen yeh blush like that, yeh slut!”

“Shut up,” Mutt growled, patting himself down frantically in search of his lighter. Butch, taking pity on his brother’s embarrassment, offered him the lighter like he had just picked it up off the floor.

“You’re not one to talk much yourself, Red,” Oolong purred, scratching at her neck. Red flushed crimson and stared a hole into the floor. Sans and Butch looked at each other in confusion.

“so, eh, what else you got for us?” Sans asked quickly, noting Butch’s curious gaze as he looked back and forth between his brothers’ colors and wanting to spare the innocence of the youngest brother. More importantly, he wanted to move away from this subject before Oolong could suggest what  _ his _ private preferences were. It didn’t matter if they all forgot after they left, Sans would remember everything the next time he came back and he couldn’t bear the thought of recalling his brother’s reactions to his own pleasures.

Oolong blinked her black eyes at Sans, her deliberately soft smile hiding just how much she enjoyed watching three of them squirm. It was fun to imagine what kinds of noises their souls would be making now, if monster souls could make sounds just like a human’s could. Unfortunately, they would be forever silent. Human souls had sound to express themselves, but monsters had their magic to act for them when they felt strongly: their colors rose to the surface when they were embarrassed, formed other parts when they were turned on, or their joints leaked plasma into their hands when they were angry. Pap was an exception to this, of course, since he leaked magic without meaning to, but he still lacked a soul sound.

“Alright, how about some comforting thoughts?” Oolong asked, her fingers idly tapping her crystal ball and agitating the smoke within. “Do you guys enjoy baths? Would you use a bathbomb, if you do?”

“hell no,” Red growled, bristling at the thought and stabbing at his cake. It was too easy for someone to sneak up on you, if you let your guard down like that, and to hold you under the water. Skeletons didn’t exactly need to breathe as much as humans, but they still needed air at some point. He would never make that mistake again.

“I wouldn’t mind one,” Sans shrugged, thankful that the conversation was on a different topic, and selected another custard as well as one of the warm sweet potatoes. His eye lights darted around the giant ring of bookshelves, searching. Did Oolong keep ketchup in this place? He could really use something like that to relax. Not too much, he didn’t want to get drunk, but just one to unwind would be nice. “bath bombs are those smelly, fizzy things, right? I’ll pass and stick with just the hot water.”

“I’ll… stick with showers.” Butch said softly, still kind of confused on what Oolong had been implying with Red by scratching her neck. “they’re… a lot faster and… the whole point of them… is to wash things off, right?”

“You don’t sit in a bath to get clean, you do it to relax,” Mutt explained, taking a deep drag off his black cigarette to help the last of his color leave his skull. “A bath and a pine scented bath bomb is nice. But if you ask me, there are way better ways to unwind.” For one, nothing beat fooling around and feeling that release after a good claim. It was his favorite way to relax, but if he couldn’t do that, then a pack of cigarettes and a video game were the next best thing.

“You don’t have to have to bathe to relax. Unwinding can be done with whatever you enjoy doing.” Oolong said, reaching to the copper platter and selecting a custard to snack on. She poked at the caramelized sugar with her twisted spoon, breaking it into smaller pieces, and looked across the table at Butch. “For example, you like to draw, Mutt plays games, Sans tells jokes, and Red likes to play guitar…”

“who th’ fuck says?!” Red snarled, banging his fist on the table and rattling the dishes. Oolong winced at the sudden, loud noise and the lights from the candles flickered as they dimmed.

“easy there, it’s alright,” Sans said, his low tone soothing as he reached over to rub Oolong’s back. His skull turned as he glared at his irritable brother. “don’t start shouting, Red, or we’re all gonna have a bad time. none of us care what you like to do as long as it doesn’t result in blowing the place up.”

“What kind of stuff do you draw, Butch?” Mutt asked, his red eye lights studying Oolong out of the corner of his socket. She had seemed so confident thus far, but that noise had silenced her and she stared without blinking at the crystal ball on the table.

“um... whatever I see, really.” Butch shrugged, drinking the last of his tea. Without speaking, Oolong raised her hand and the stone pot floated over to refill his cup. “I really like… figure drawing, though. like animals and… people.”

“is that why yer always watchin’ us sleep?” Red asked, raising a brow at his little brother. Butch nodded, gold flushing his cheekbones, and Red stabbed his fork into the rest of the cake on his plate to eat. “huh. ‘n I thought it was some weird shit Axe taught yeh.”

“You know if you want to draw us, you could just ask?” Mutt said, wanting Butch to feel encouraged.

“it’s... kind of a weird thing… to ask,” Butch shrugged. He envied Mutt’s ability to be so confident in himself, but it was hard for Butch to explain why he got so nervous. What would he do if someone said no? Wouldn’t that just make things weird the next time he talked to them? It was hard enough talking to anybody, or being around lots of people, without them thinking he was some kind of oddball for wanting them to sit still and be stared at for hours on end. Butch looked off at the shelves, the thousands of books reminding him of his Lily, and the thought helped soothe his nerves.

“Hey, if I can get Robin to pick up more games, and you’ll play with me, I’ll let you draw me.” Mutt poked Butch on his cheekbone, gently teasing him for his remaining gold color. “I’ve been meaning to ask her for new ones. Smash and Skyrim are fun, but Smash is only good if I’ve got skilled opponents and Skyrim kind of lost its sparkle since the magic system just makes me wish for other powers. You like RDR2, don’t you? I was going to ask for more first person shooters if they’re out there.”

“why would you wish for more powers?” Sans asked, rolling his white lights and taking another sweet potato to munch on. “the ones we have are more trouble than they’re worth, honestly.”

“Says the freak of nature who can see souls, force others to sleep, and can throw people with his magic,” Mutt huffed, rolling his eye lights. Oolong looked up, her expression calm once again as she quietly resumed eating her custard. “Seriously, wouldn’t it be awesome to be able to do something else besides summoning bones or weapons? Think about it! How cool would it be to, I don’t know, change your shape into anything you like? You could be anything you want!”

“th’ fuck kinda power is that?” Red jabbed his fork at Mutt, showering him in chocolate crumbs. “yeh want somethin’ useful, go with invisibility! yeh can get away with anythin’!”

“I like… the sound of both of those,” Butch nodded at Red and Mutt. He imagined what it would be like to slip away anywhere, unseen, but then decided it wouldn’t be that useful since things that could sense magic would still know he was there. Shape shifting would be far more useful to evade hostility, but Butch imagined it would be rather difficult learning to control a different body. Learning his new magic was hard enough. “I’d rather be able to… talk to anything.”

“language ain’t that hard, Butch.” Red sighed, rolling his crimson lights at his brother.

“I meant… to like birds and stuff,” Butch clarified. If he could talk to animals, then they could warn him about things he didn’t want to encounter. He didn’t have to be invisible if he could just avoid threats entirely. “but animals... can’t understand any language we know. Axe has already… tried.”

“You’ve been quiet, Sans,” Oolong whispered, leaning around the table to speak to the side of Sans’ skull. The other brothers didn’t notice, not with how involved their conversation on hypothetical new powers was becoming. “What kind of power do you wish you had instead?”

Sans’ expression became veiled behind a lazy grin as he stared down into his half-filled cup of tea. He wouldn’t say, couldn’t say, the desire he had. If he could have a new power, it would be to bring people back from the dead like nothing had ever happened to them. To reverse time itself instead of just being present as it started over and over.

“It’s okay, hun, it’ll get better” Oolong said gently, her pale hand settling on his shoulder. She topped off his tea with the stone pot and urged him to drink. Clearing her throat, to catch the others attention, she asked, “Since Butch brought up animals, why don’t you tell me your favorites?”

“foxes...!” Butch said brightly, sincerely enjoying the question. Oolong nodded, a grin on her face. Clever, sweet, but vicious when alone and cornered, and oh so shy, a fox would definitely suit Butch.

“Oh, uh, I don’t know,” Mutt tapped at his golden fang as he contemplated the sudden question. “Something that flies? Bats are pretty cool, I suppose.”

Oolong nodded again. They navigated the world by interpreting the information they gathered, were relatively secretive and hard to find, yet were a creature that formed strong family bonds. Mutt would make a good bat.

“what about turtles? those are pretty cute.” Sans said, a small grin returning to his skull as he downed his cup of tea in one go. Oolong smiled softly and refilled his cup. Solitary, long lived, and with a tough outer shell to hide inside that also protected their weakest points. It was a good fit for him, too.

Red, who was now pouting since he had eaten all of his cake and refused to reach for more, did not answer right away. His crimson lights were on the chili truffles Mutt still had as he debated with himself if he wanted to brave the spice, and decided he did. He stole a pair of chocolates when Mutt wasn’t looking, popped them past his sharp teeth, and grunted, “honey badger.”

Oolong laughed out loud. Of course he would. Honey badger don’t give no fucks. The guys, unsure of why she was laughing so hard that she tipped onto the floor, glanced at each other. The smoke inside the crystal ball on the table swirled erratically as if agitated.

“Haha, bear with me, guys,” Oolong chuckled, slowly surfacing by pulling herself back up onto the table. “I didn’t expect an animal question to have me roaring with laughter.”

Sans perked up at the puns just as Red groaned and hid his face in his hand.

“did you know this chick told jokes?” Sans grinned, elbowing Mutt in the ribs. Red scowled and pulled his hood over his skull to hide in. He wished he had his headphones so he didn’t have to listen to this garbage. “it’s pretty en _ deer _ ing.”

“Don’t rat me out!” Oolong cackled, a sound very much like a hyena, and it echoed off the marble walls. Sans’ melodic laugh joined hers while Mutt smoked patiently, a grin on his skull, waiting for them both to joke themselves out. Butch, on the other hand, was giggling quietly behind his hand.

“don’t get so squirrely, Oolong,” Sans chuckled, watching Oolong clutch the crystal ball to her chest to keep it from slipping away, “or we’ll think you’re otter your mind.”

“fer th’ love of th’ angel, shut th’ fuck up,” Red growled, glaring across the table at Sans. “‘n stop encouragin’ him!” he snapped at Butch, who shrank back behind Mutt to hide his barely suppressed giggling fit.

“Ah, lighten up Red,” Mutt waved a hand at him, his black cigarette bouncing in his fangs as he spoke. “They’re just jokes.”

“He can’t! He doesn’t have his woman to drop his load off into!” Oolong cackled, silver tears welling up in the corners of her dark eyes. Sans fell back onto the floor, howling with laughter, and Butch clung to Mutt to stay upright. Mutt snorted at the lewd pun, purple smoke leaking from his nasal cavity.

Red, finally, cracked a smile and quickly hid it behind his hand. He would die before he let his brothers know his favorite jokes were raunchy puns. Sans would run that train off the rails if he knew.

“I always liked… that you told jokes,” Butch giggled to Sans, once he was able to breathe enough to form actual words. “they always… make me laugh.”

“then laugh louder, cuz I’ve never heard you actually laugh before,” Sans grinned, pushing himself up off the floor and back onto his cushion. “seriously though, Butch. if I knew you liked jokes, I’d tell you everything I’ve ever come up with.”

“I don’t know…” Butch shifted on his cushion, avoiding Sans’ eye lights. “Pap doesn’t like them… and he’s really nice to me. he… might not let me… borrow his puzzles… if he thought I was… encouraging you. I haven’t solved… the rubix cube… yet.”

“I’m sure we can figure it out,” Sans grinned. Butch smiled shyly at him, giggling quietly at the joke.

“don’ start that shit now,” Red growled, quickly losing his humor. “yer jokes ‘r fuckin’ terrible, vanilla.”

“We can’t all be so sinful, my little chocolate devil,” Oolong chuckled, slowly winding down herself. She beckoned to the copper dome lid for the tray, watching it’s movement as it floated through the air and covered the platter. She lifted it back off with her hand, revealing that the sweets of their previous snacks had disappeared and were replaced with an assortment of fruits. Red raspberries, golden pineapple, purple blackberries, and slices of yellow mango were artistically piled across the copper platter. “But since we’re in such a good mood now, why don’t you boys tell me about your pet peeves? That way we can avoid irritating each other for the rest of the visit.”

“people who call me crazy,” Sans answered, grabbing a handful of blackberries from the platter and popping them back into his void.

“You are crazy, vanilla,” Mutt sighed, eating the butt of his spent cigarette as he piled slices of mango on a small glass plate. He paused, considered the rest of the platter, then took some of the pineapple, too. “only you would piss off Edge on purpose and laugh it off.”

“I don’t mean like you guys when you say it in jest. I mean people who say it seriously,” Sans grumbled darkly. Mutt, Butch, and Red all paused as they helped themselves to the new food, surprised by the venom in Sans’ low voice.

“I don’t like it… when Edge… bullies me,” Butch offered quietly, hoping that Sans would come back from the thoughts he was clearly dwelling on.

Red growled, refusing flat out to answer that question because he had already made it clear to everyone that he hated liars. Instead, he filled his mouth with a forkful of pineapple. Despite his scowl, his crimson eye lights shined in delight at the sweet, tangy flavor.

“Don’t misunderstand,” Oolong said gently, steering their thoughts away from darker waters. “I don’t mean things you hate, just things that annoy you. Like… Red gets annoyed by electronic music, especially anything made by Mettaton.”

“no shit,” Red snapped, his crimson eye lights narrowing at Oolong. Once again, he was reminded of how little he knew about this woman. How did she know so much about him? She knew that he liked chocolate cake and pineapple; that he played guitar and hated Mettaton... and why the hell did he trust her anyways without knowing a thing about her? The stupid tea? “I could make better music than that rust bucket by scrapin’ nails against a chalkboard.”

“He’s not-” Mutt started, then quickly fell silent at the daggers Red glared at him.

“So, if you had a choice,” Oolong asked, smirking at Red’s irritation, “between spending a day in a human city or having to listen, and entertain, Mettaton for a day, which would you choose?”

“by ‘entertain’ do yeh mean punch him over ‘n over?” Red smirked, delighted by the thought.

“No.”

“humans,” Red grunted immediately, then kicked himself for answering. He wanted answers, dammit! Why did he give so many? He had only answered one or two of her questions, but that was one or two too many.

“What about the rest of you?” Oolong asked sweetly. “Your pet peeve and your answer to my last question?”

“Hah! That’s easy!” Mutt took a long swig of his tea before answering, “Anyone who messes with my computer setup, and I’d choose Mettaton.”

“course ya would, slut,” Red grumbled. Mutt flushed burnt orange as Red grinned evilly. “yeh ain’t told her yet, even after she marked yeh?”

“I-I- uh-” Mutt stammered, the color quickly draining from his skull until he was the skeletal equivalent of pale.

“Butch? What about you, sweetie?” Oolong asked, cutting off the conversation before it could escalate.

“um…” Butch glanced at Mutt, who was slowly sliding down from his cushion to hide beneath the table. “I… don’t like… really loud people… but… I’d choose Mettaton… over a big city…”

Oolong nodded, satisfied with that answer. Butch wouldn’t be happy either way, spending time in large crowds or with someone as boisterous as Mettaton. Oolong felt bony feet touch her legs and, without looking, swiped her hand through the air to magically right Mutt in his cushion seat.

“How about a different one, hm?” Oolong purred, reaching across the table to take Mutt’s cigarettes. She pinched the end between her fingers to light it and settled the butt between his sharp teeth. He offered her an appreciative smile as thanks. “If-”

“enough fuckin’ quesions” Red snapped, his crimson lights narrowing as he pointed. “how ‘bout yeh give us some fuckin answers, woman? why th’ hell do we gotta tell yeh all this shit anyway? who th’ fuck are yeh, how did we get here, ‘n whaddya want from us?! I don’ believe none ‘a this ‘just get teh know yeh’ bullshit!”

Oolong fell silent, her mane of wild, crimson hair slowly turning as she settled her dark eyes on Red. “I’m Oolong, of course,” she purred, a low hum of energy in her voice that sent shivers down Red’s spine. She reached out and tilted his chin up, leaning her tall frame until her face was inches from his. Red stared into the dark orbs of her eyes, noting that his crimson lights didn’t reflect like the candlelight did, and he shrank back. “You’re here because I willed you to be and you answer because I want to know you. If you don’t want to answer-” she said, speaking his question before it had finished forming in his mind, “then I will be disappointed. You’ve never come to harm speaking your mind here, hm? So be a dear and keep me company for a while. It gets lonely here without you boys.”

“Wait, are you saying we have no choice?” Mutt asked, smoke leaking from his mouth and eye sockets. His red lights narrowed as suspicion stirred in his soul. This had been fun, so far. He liked talking about himself and hearing more about his brothers, but if there was some kind of malicious intent he had missed...

“Of course you have a choice,” Oolong said, smiling gently, and refilled their cups. “But if you don’t answer, how will I know you? You don’t have to say it out loud as long as you say it somehow. There’s nothing to fear from answering. I can’t leave this place and I’m not going to repeat what you tell me.”

“she’s fine, guys,” Sans said quietly, his white eye lights darting between Red, who was shocked at being subdued with only a few words, Mutt, who was still suspicious; and Butch, who was feeding off the energy of his brothers and had become nervous again. All of their gazes turned to the far side of the table, to their eldest brother who swirled the tea in his cup as he looked between them. “we’ve been here quite a few times before, you just can’t remember. I know you feel you can trust her from the tea, but I remember everything and the reason why we feel this way. we can trust this human. she helps us.”

“she... is human?” Butch asked, his gaze looking over Oolong’s dark red hair and black eyes.

“Of course I am, honey, can’t you hear my soul?” Oolong asked, smiling at Butch. He nodded slowly and shoved another raspberry into his mouth, feeling slightly more at ease again.

“it looks like a human soul, too,” Sans added, drinking the rest of his tea and holding his cup out for a refill. Oolong quietly obliged, grateful for the first time that Sans remembered so much and that he wasn’t being troublesome this time around. A small crinkle of worry furrowed her brow, knowing he was this willing to share what he knew because he also knew that they would all forget. That could get dangerous if it wasn’t reigned in and he said too much.

“What do souls even look like?” Mutt asked, staring at their host. He knew he knew her, and that the others did, too, but what did Sans know that he didn’t? Information was his life. It was driving Mutt crazy that he was in the dark about something that sounded so vital. Oolong stared right back at Mutt, the stars in her dark eyes shining, and pointed a pale finger at Sans.

“like... this.” Sans put his hands together. His pointer fingers formed a peak over his curled thumbs to show them an upside down heart. “the color varies somewhat. monsters are white, as you know, but can have streaks of black or grey. humans are their respective color depending on what they are. the hue darkens and can also develop streaks depending on the amount of LOVE or EXP they have. before you ask, Thyme is green. pure green. but you guys already know she has no LOVE or EXP. I know you can sense some levels, even if you can’t guess exactly.”

“So you can tell, just by looking at us, if we have LOVE or have killed before?” Mutt shifted uncomfortably, unnerved by the thought his brother could see his sins with just a glance. Sans, his expression settled into a lazy grin, simply nodded. “What about Oolong? What’s her soul look like? I can’t sense what kind of soul she has at all.”

Sans glanced over to Oolong, for permission to answer the question. Oolong nodded once, her finger tracing small circles over the crystal ball in her lap.

“purple.” Sans said simply. “Perseverance.”

“And why can’t we hear any change in your emotions? It’s just this low drone of bees.” Mutt said, quirking a bony brow at Oolong. She smiled softly at the question, but said nothing.

“we don’t have any more answers left,” Sans said to Mutt.

“At least, Red doesn’t,” Oolong said, a devilish smile gracing her features. “Two questions, three answers. I daresay you’re in my debt right now, my little cactus. You’re lucky I like you so much.”

“how did you learn to see…?” Butch asked quietly, his eye lights on his eldest brother.

“that’s just how it is.” Sans shrugged. This wasn’t the first time he’s had to reassure his brothers, he had to do so when they first discovered his Soul Sight, but that didn’t change that they still asked him about it occasionally in the hopes of gleaming new information.

“Thank you, Sans,” Oolong bowed her head slightly to show her appreciation. “Let’s get back on track, shall we? We don’t have much time left before I have to get you back home.” She looked down at her crystal ball, prodding the smoke around with a moment of her finger. “Oh, I know!” she exclaimed, her dark eyes sparkling with excitement. “Your birthdays! When are they?”

“Aquarius 5,” Sans mumbled. He stared into his cup of tea, silently grateful that she didn’t ask for the year. He had no idea how that translated into the human’s calendar and he couldn’t place how old he was anymore. “Paps was born on Libra 16.”

Butch and Red, at a loss for an answer, turned to Mutt.

“you know… don’t you?” Butch asked, his skull tilted. “when… we were born?”

“Well, yeah,” Mutt nodded, confused that Sans would know his own birthday in the first place. The Underground had strange days - the crystals would brighten and dim at their own whims - and there were no definite seasons to match those on the surface. Districts were either stuck in perpetual winter or were bathed in constant heat. The only time keeping devices were kept in the Palace, under lock and key by the Royals to be used by the Court. Mutt only knew what he knew because of his hacking abilities and, later on, because of his service to the Guard.

“it don’ matter anyway,” Red shrugged, leaning back on his hands and staring up at a copper shelves of candles. The black marble beneath his bony hands was cool to his touch. “it ain’t like they mean much once yer past magical maturity. hell, yeh ain’t gotta know when yeh were born teh mature anyway.”

“I’d like to know…” Butch took a raspberry and examined it in his fingers. “birthdays are… important to humans… aren’t they? I want to… tell Lily mine.”

“It would be helpful,” Oolong said gently, to Mutt, “to give the dates in the Gregorian calendar, too? If you can, Mutt. I’m afraid the Underground’s adaptation of the Babylonian calendar can be a little confusing.”

Mutt hummed thoughtfully, his mind quickly crunching numbers as he thought. “Aquarius 5 translates to February 5 and Libra 16 becomes October 16. Mine is Aries 13, or April 13. Butch is… Taurus 24, which is April 24. Red was born in Scorpio 31, or October 31.”

“when was Edge born?” Red asked, too eager for the answer to really consider the present company.

“and Axe…?” Butch asked, just as eager as Red for more information about his brother.

“Ah… let’s see…” Mutt rubbed at his temples, as if he could coax the information forth just with the touch. “Edge was born on Aries 23, which is March 23, and Axe was born on Virgo 20, or September 20.”

“How about Milord?” Oolong asked, lifting the lid of her stone teapot to check how much she had left inside. 

“Gemini 6,” Mutt explained, “or June 6.”

“And soon after you were born,” Oolong asked, pouring the last of the tea between the brothers, “what did you all want to be as kids?”

“Can we have an answer, first?” Mutt asked, his red lights surveying Oolong in a critical manner. “I know we’ll forget everything once we leave, but I still want one.”

“Of course, you many ask, Mutt.” Oolong nodded, her soft smile settling on her pale face. He had been waiting so patiently, too.

“When we first came here, I know we all felt that this place was familiar. Even without drinking your special-tea.” Mutt held up a hand and ticked off points, his cigarette bobbing against his sharp teeth as he spoke. “We also can’t take shortcuts within this place, our dark vision is useless, and it takes more magic than normal to create light. Is this the Void?”

Oolong’s grin curled up at the corners as the eldest brother answered for her. “you always do figure it out, eventually,” Sans chuckled.

“But how are you able to bring us safely into the void and keep us here?” Mutt asked, his red eye lights wide with shock. “The Void eats magic. We’d be dead in minutes if we stayed there too long.”

“hold on jus’ a fuckin’ second! where are we!?” Red asked, stilling at the thought of being brought to, and possibly lost, in a place he had a slim chance of escaping on his own.

Butch looked between his brothers, not understanding the panic that radiated off of them. He was very familiar with the Void, why did it scare them?

“answer th’ fuckin’ question, woman!” Red barked, staring at Oolong with an unyielding gaze. She smiled softly back, masking her true emotion.

“When you are in the realm of duality, living in the spaces between time in the dark before the light, more things are possible than you think.”

“But you’re human, even though you can obviously do some kind of magic, but how are you still alive?” Mutt asked, his raspy tone filled with awe.

“I eat, drink, and sleep my fill, of course.” Oolong tilted her head, her wild hair falling into her face. “And to keep myself from going crazy in endless solitude, I have tea parties with wonderful guests. Now, enough about me. This is about you. What did you want to be when you were a little babybones?”

The brothers shifted uncomfortably. None of them wanted to be the first to answer. They trusted Oolong, but their trust had fallen somewhat after learning the true nature of her home.

Oolong shrugged and refilled their cups with warm tea. They would all calm down after they drank. Or, at least, three of them would. Sans already knew about her home from a previous visit and it didn’t bother him much since it was proven to be safe.

Giving the brothers time to regain their relaxed demeanor, Oolong reached out and idly swirled a fingertip against the surface of the crystal ball, stirring the smoke within. They didn’t have to tell her, she had ways of getting the answers she wanted.

Butch had simply wanted to survive. The idea that he would live to be as old as he was currently was a fantasy to his childhood self. Sure, he had entertained the idea that he wanted to create beautiful things one day, but staying alive was his dearest wish. He never wanted Axe to be alone ever again.

Mutt wanted to be King. He wanted to be like Asgore - to have four Queens as his loving alphas; to rule over the Underground and have its citizens adore him. He wanted to be loved by all and to have every monster know his name.

Sans wanted nothing more than to be just like Wings: a Royal Scientist. He had gotten his wish, but the joy of it was short lived after he had lost his brother to their experiment.

Red just wanted to be free. Nothing more, nothing less. Free to make his own choices, be his own person - his own boss. Now that he had that on the surface, he realized he didn’t know what to do with it.

“It’s alright, don’t worry about that one.” Oolong said softly, waving the question away for them. She had her answers, she didn’t need to hear them try to speak it. She watched Red out of the corner of her dark eyes as he refilled his glass plate with pineapple. Everyone was calm once again thanks to the tea. “Why don’t you try answering some questions, Red? I’ll answer one of yours in exchange.”

Red chewed on his words, nursing his snack as he thought. One question, huh? Hers could be way too personal for his liking, but she knew things about them that they had never told her. Or, according to vanilla, asked during other visits but now nobody but Sans remembered.

“come back teh me,” Red said, his tone gravelly as he tried to think of a question worth the price she was asking him to pay. Oolong nodded, accepting the small delay.

“Sans?” Oolong reached out, taking a handful of blackberries from the magically refilling stack of fruit. Sans perked up at the sound of his name, drawn out of his thoughts about Wings and his childhood. “Out of curiosity, my little solitary turtle, who do you feel closest to out of your family? Aside from Papyrus and Thyme, that is.”

“uh…” Sans glanced at his brothers, at Butch’s curious gaze and Mutt’s thoughtful one. Then at Red as he stared at his white china cup, his brow furrowed in thought.

Sans didn’t really consider himself too close to any of his brothers, now that he really thought about it. He liked them all, to varying degrees, and would give his life for them to protect them, but none of them knew his secrets. None of them knew his past or his pains or his fears. Hell, the only one that he had ever come close to talking to was…

“Milord,” Sans said, smirking at the shocked look on Mutt’s skull. Sans chuckled, “what’s that look for?”

“He can barely stand you,” Mutt said, his hand freezing from astonishment with his cigarettes halfway out of his pocket. “Milord thinks you’re a lazy slob and your puns drive him insane.”

“eh, true enough. though, to be fair, he doesn’t really like anyone all that much. but we do work together to keep the house running.” Sans shrugged. Part of the reason why he liked Milord wasn’t because of home maintenance, it was because he could talk to Milord about certain events in abstract ways and receive an honest answer without too many questions in return. “we have some good talks, every now and then, on hypotheticals. it’s fun to pick his mind.”

“on... quantum stuff?” Butch asked, his own brow furrowing as he tried to remember what Pap had told him the day after the chess match between his older brothers.

“sometimes,” Sans grinned, “and sometimes we throw crazy scenarios at each other. like... what would happen if Queen Cinn legalized music? or... what if we could turn human for a day?”

Mutt snorted in disbelief, unable to imagine his uptight older brother taking that second question seriously. It was easy to tell who had proposed which scenario.

“Well?” Oolong asked, blinking serenely as she looked up from her crystal ball. “What would you do, Mutt? If you were human for a day?”

“It’s impossible. Why would I care?” Mutt pulled a black cigarette out of his pack, sparked his lighter, and took a deep calming drag from it. It wasn’t so much as he didn’t care, it’s that he didn’t want to entertain too many thoughts about being someone else. He was who he was, and that someone didn’t exist. It just hurt to think of things otherwise.

“say... you had to go back to the Underground and a well of wild magic ran rampant and turned you human,” Sans said, spinning the scenario since he was also curious to hear what Mutt would do. “no one can predict what happens to a monster when they fall in a well.”

“I don’t know,” Mutt exhaled a plume of purple smoke over the table. Oolong wrinkled her nose and twirled her hand, siphoning the smoke away from the food and drinks and into the crystal ball. “If I’m not Mutt the skeleton, I could go wherever I damn well please. If I’m human, that means I can’t hear their souls, right? I’d probably visit the human city with Robin and see her university in person. Check out that mall she goes to and that park she’s told me about…”

The idea of not having to hide, at all, was too tempting to consider further. He could tell anyone he met who his alpha was and have her introduce him, too. He could take her out on the town, explore new places together… hell, he could try his hand at human customs and marry her. She was trying so hard to do things their way, why couldn’t he try for her, too? He’d have to do more research, of course, he didn’t know hardly anything about that custom…

“Oh, here’s a fun little hypothetical for you, Sans,” Oolong grinned, watching him as he sipped his tea. “What would you do if you found out Thyme was pregnant?”

Sans froze in shock, his eye lights wide, as tea leaked through his teeth and down his jaw onto his blue hoodie. Oolong giggled at his reaction, well aware that the other brothers had frozen as well to listen closely to his answer.

“by who?” Red growled. Beneath the table, his hands tightened into fists.

“Is that really important?” Oolong asked.

“yer damn straight it is!” Red snarled. Mutt nodded eagerly in agreement, unaware that he had bitten his cigarette in half and that the rest of it had fallen into his teacup.

“How come vanilla gets the first shot?” Mutt growled. “I was the first one marked, it should be me!”

“why does it… matter?” Butch asked, his white lights narrowed at his brothers. There was a firmness to his usually soft tone that caught the others off guard. “if it’s hers… why does it matter… who did it or… who’s first? as long as… they’re part of the pack… then the baby is all of ours.”

“yeh ain’t even marked yet, so shut the fuck up!”

“you’re not… either.” Butch growled. “and even if… I’m not, yet… I’d still take care of it and… you should too!” Mutt and Red stared at Butch in surprise as he started to lecture them about being too possessive of Lily and how it was unfair to her for them to expect her to choose them over anyone else when she had so many to consider and try to be fair to. Mutt should know better, Butch reminded him, Lily relied on him the most, and Red still had to prove that he belonged.

Sans was still in shock and leaking tea all over the place. How was he supposed to react to that question? For starters, he realized, he should stop tipping tea into his jaw if he wasn’t going to accept it into his void. He set the cup back onto the table and held it. That question wasn’t something he considered too much. Thyme had made it clear that she wasn’t ready for children.

But if it happened by accident? If no one told her about her heat or they got carried away enough to… or what if she did want it? What then? Then it happened. How did he feel about that? Terrified, first off, that it would happen when they still hadn’t figured out how to stop the resets. It would hurt so much to love a kid and then have a reset take them away. But the thought of one also made him feel… overjoyed. He loved having Pap as a little babybones to take care of and he loved children. If it was hers, no matter who sired it… he would love it to pieces.

And if it was his… if he had that chance…

Something stirred inside of Sans that made his bones hot and his hand shake. He put the white china cup back onto the table before he broke it and tried to keep his breathing even and slow. He shoved that feeling down, back inside the little box in his soul. It wasn’t something he could let out just yet. If ever. Only if she chose him.

Oolong was looking at him over her long, steepled fingers. Her hands barely hid the knowing smirk on her pale face or the glimmer in her dark eyes.

“I’d take care of her, of course. no matter what.” Sans put on his lazy grin, acting like the question hadn’t shaken him as much as it had. Butch, who was still lecturing Mutt and Red, nodded approvingly at Sans’ words.

“see…?” Butch gave Sans an admiring smile. “that’s why… you’re the head… of house, Sans. you know… what the right thing… to do is.”

“I’d take care of her and the kid too, you know,” Mutt pouted, feeling extremely put out to be reminded of his jealousy. It wasn’t his fault he wanted the first try. He didn’t know how well he would do with kids, he had never really been around them, but it could be a lot of fun. A hell of a lot more fun than he was raised, anyway.

Red merely grumbled, flushed crimson. Thinking about raising a child inadvertently reminded him of how bad he was with kids. It wouldn’t be for a lack of trying, he was just terrible with the whole “patience” thing. And Red would never, ever admit how terrified he would be if that situation came true. He didn’t want to make the same mistakes.

“Do you want to answer my question now, my prickly little cactus?” Oolong chuckled, pleased with how flustered most of the boys had gotten. Butch was an exception, but she knew that he would dote on Lily the entire time if she was expecting. He was acting composed now, but would panic initially. It would be more out of a fear that she would most likely carry a human/monster hybrid rather than a pure human child and the uncertainty of what to expect. What was the likelihood of everything that could go wrong? Okay, so maybe he would panic a bit more once the situation was more real to him.

“yeh ask anythin’ more ‘bout kids, an’ I’m trashin’ th’ place,” Red threatened though his scowl.

“Oh no, these are far more up your alley,” Oolong waved the threat away as if it were a gnat in her face. “If you could play something besides a guitar, what would you play?”

“who th’ fuck’s sayin’ I play anythin’?” Red growled, bristling as they returned to the subject he hated talking about the most: himself.

“come on, Red, no ones going to tease you.” Sans took the last of the blackberries and dropped them in his teacup to mix with the dregs. “I already know you love chocolate and I don’t touch that cuz you’re so sensitive.”

“th’ fuck yeh just call me?!” Red snarled, jumping to his feet again. Oolong narrowed her eyes at him and pointed down to the ground, forcing his knees to buckle and plopping Red back onto his cushion.

“You’re a creative, Red, just like Butch,” Oolong hummed, smiling as Red realized he had just been forced back down. “There’s nothing wrong with that and nothing to hide. These are your brothers. They’re not going to use this against you, or attempt to humiliate you for it. Must I really explain this every time?”

“Come on, Red, tell us a bit about you,” Mutt’s raspy voice gently encouraged. “The only things we know for sure about you are that you hate liars and Milord and most other things with a fiery passion. Tell us about something you actually like for once.”

“do you really make… music?” Butch asked, his skull tilted. “you know… that’s forbidden… right?”

Red smirked. “yeah, in th’ Underground. ain’t so much on th’ surface, though.”

“so you… do play guitar?” Butch asked, his white lights shining with admiration. He had thought he was the only one who made things and he had never, ever heard any music besides the songs Lily would sing. “will you… play me something?”

“...maybe,” Red grumbled, feeling a little uncomfortable with the attention he was getting. He didn’t like the stupid smirk on Mutt’s skull, neither.

“You do realize you’re still technically breaking the law?” Mutt asked, his smirk widening.

“who th’ fuck’s gonna stop me? tiny?” Red scoffed. “I’d like teh see ‘im try.”

“I’m not saying anything.” Mutt held up a hand in defense. He quietly sipped his tea, broken cigarette and all, and looked the other way, leaving Red to narrow his lights in suspicion.

“Would you only want to play guitar?” Oolong asked, trying to redirect the conversation back to her question.

“nah, I’d try drums,” Red answered, feeling elated that his brothers didn’t seem to want to stop his favorite illicit activity. “seems more fun, bangin’ around on shit ‘n makin’ hella noise.”

“should’ve known you’d be a fan of banging,” Sans’ tone suggested seriousness, but it was lost past the grin on his skull.

“shut th’ fuck up, vanilla,” Red shook his skull, trying to hide his own grin.

“Do you have a favorite band?” Oolong asked, selecting a rather thick slice of mango to nibble on from the silver platter. “You know, someone who inspires you?”

“Avenged Sevenfold, duh,” Red rolled his crimson eye lights. “them ‘er Asking Alexandria. they ain’t bad, neither.”

“Where would you want to perform?” Oolong rolled a bit of the mango between her fingers, examining the sticky juice as it collected on her fingertips. “If you ever became a famous rock star, that is.”

An evil smile graced Red’s skull. “Fell City, yeh witch. where else? get right up on th’ top of the scrapers an’ shake those rocks till I piss off th’ mountain.”

“You do realize that an eruption would be bad for everyone, right?” Mutt sighed, pulling at his face with his hand. “Why else would the Core be so vital? It’s not just to provide electricity, you know.”

“fuck you, yeh know-it-all,” Red grumbled and stuffed a handful of pineapple into his void.

“Beats knowing nothing,” Mutt said slyly, enjoying the venomous glare Red gave him. Mutt didn’t think it was an insult at all to know things; that’s why he enjoyed his job.

“Don’t start arguing, you two,” Oolong purred, covering the copper tray with its dome. “I have just one last question for you before you leave. Can’t we end this visit pleasantly?”

“I, um… have a question… too.” Butch asked shyly, his shoulders rising up as all eyes, and lights, turned towards him. Oolong beckoned to him, gently encouraging the question, and Butch sat up a little straighter. “that crystal…” Butch pointed at the smoke filled ball at the center of the table. “can you… see the future?”

One of Oolong’s pale fingers came up to twirl a lock of her ruby mane. “I can see… significant things. Checkpoints. How they come to be, or their exact nature, changes with the flow of time. Even I can’t control a force as powerful as time magic.”

Mutt opened his mouth, to ask a question, and Oolong put her hand up. “I will allow one more question. Just one. You should discuss it amongst yourselves to be sure that’s what you all want to know.”

The four brothers looked at each other, silently questioning, before leaning their heads over the table to speak in whispers. Oolong smiled, thankful for the distraction, and returned to caressing her crystal ball.

The last question for the boys was simple: where would they take their human on a date? Oolong knew better than to ask this aloud, most of them would be too embarrassed to be verbal with their answers, so gazing was much easier.

Sans wanted to take her to his old hometown in District 1, Snowdin, to show her where he raised Pap. He had considered the Palace, but the intricate beauty of a single building didn’t compare to the quiet serenity of Snowdin, in Sans’ mind. He wanted to take her skating on the frozen river, walk through the frosted forests, and then warm up at Grillbys with good food and jokes. She might even get a kick out of seeing the endless blizzard that marked the border between Districts 1 and 2.

Mutt wanted to take her to the echo fields in Waterfall. He knew how much she like plant life and her endless curiosity about everything she didn’t know. What better place than the most beautiful spot in District 2? The one place filled with the whispers of monsters gone by who had left their thoughts and dreams with the flowers? They could even sit on one of the many bridges and look at the star crystals together, with the countless glowing waterfalls rumbling in the distance.

Butch had no idea where he’d take her. He didn’t want to bring her anywhere near District 4, The Ruins, and risk her safety. It embarrassed him to say, but he’d be okay with them just spending time together at home. The thought of curling up on the couch together beneath a blanket, watching movies and sharing a large tub of nice cream, was more than enough for him. He wanted to listen to her tell him more about herself, since she so rarely did that, and he wanted to sit quietly by her side after she fell asleep - just enjoying the fact that she was there and made him feel loved.

Red’s first thought was to take her to District 3, to Hotland, to show her the outskirts of the land of his birth. He had wanted to show her the magma geysers, the molten rock falls, and the massive lava lakes where the vibrantly scaled drykes lived. It was where he wanted to take her after she learned Font, but after discovering her fear of fire he abandoned that idea. He didn’t know of any other places he considered special enough to share with her and hadn’t had any new ideas since.

“alright, Oolong, we’ve got a question for you,” Sans said, being the first to raise his skull and look at her. Oolong’s finger paused against the surface of her crystal ball, and listened.

“if... you can see the future-” Butch begain.

“-we wanna know who knocks Doll up,” Red finished bluntly. Oolong quirked a brow at him and he flushed crimson, then quickly looked away from the table to hide his color. If it was going to happen, dammit, he wanted to know.

“To be clear,” Mutt pressed, drawing Oolong’s attention to him before she could part her pale lips. “We all get that it’s far in the future before we would even try for something like that. Our relationship is still new and the dynamic of the pack hasn’t settled. Hell, we don’t even know if it’s  _ possible  _ for us to breed with her, but the question stands.”

Oolong hummed thoughtfully and steepled her fingers in front of her face. “Don’t you think that’s an important conversation to have with her, first? As I recall, only one of you has had this discussion, and he’s not currently sitting with us.”

“jus’ answer th’ damn question, witch,” Red growled, impatient. Oolong smirked at his rough tone. Despite his outward reluctance at the thought, he clearly was open to the idea.

“There is no answer,” Oolong shrugged, parting her hands and displaying her palms to the brothers. “I just told you, my ability to see into the future is somewhat inaccurate. If such a thing as her bearing your child was possible, who sired it would vary greatly depending on circumstance. I could tell you that… Axe might be the father. And it could be true in certain timelines, but it would be just as accurate to say that Papyrus might be. Any of the ones she loves has a chance if conditions are favorable.”

“So it is possible?” Mutt asked quietly.

“I didn’t say that,” Oolong wagged a finger at him. “But before you boys go and get yourselves stuck in a rut, I highly suggest you bring up this topic to her. Remember that there is information that you take for granted that she is very much unaware of, still.”

“would she… let us try?” Butch asked, his skull flushed a deep gold. It was a sign of how badly he wanted to know the answer that he didn’t break eye contact when Oolong looked his way.

“Why don’t you ask next time?” she purred, rising from her cushion. “Or, better yet, why don’t you ask her yourself? You’ll remember the answer, that way.”

Oolong darted around the circular tea table, herding the brothers to their feet and towards the glass beads that marked the doorway. Mutt dropped his cigarettes and she flicked her finger at the floor, sending the pack zooming back into his pocket. “On you get, my lovelies. I’m expecting someone else soon and I need to straighten up from our party.”

“let me guess,” Sans grinned, watching Red smack at Oolong’s hands to keep her from touching him. “another one of our brothers?”

A mischievous grin, one that showed off her sharp canines, crawled onto Oolong’s pale face. Her the stars inside her black eyes shined at him. “You’re all out of answers, Sans.”

With a flick of her wrist, she pushed the four of them unceremoniously through the beaded curtain and back into the Void. 

A small sigh of relief escaped her as the feeling returned to her arms, signaling that the brothers had made it back to their house on Lane 66. Just to be safe, she crossed the short distance to her crystal ball and waved the smoke away, to see them in their beds for herself. 

Oolong gave a nod of approval and picked up the copper platter, her sight set on one of the many bookshelves. She didn’t notice that the boot, the one without a pair, had moved in her way and her bare feet tripped over it.

She hissed angrily to herself as she landed, hard, on the black marble. She shook her ruby hair from her face, then glared up at the copper platter above her head. More specifically, at the disembodied hand that held it up.

“I told you, you needed to wait until they were gone,” she growled, accepting the assistance of another floating hand to help her to her feet. She hooked her pale fingers through the hole in the palm, bringing the bony structure to her lips. She brushed the ghost of a kiss against its fingers and sighed, “I suppose you did wait, but you didn’t even give me time to clean up before your visit, my dear.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh yes, one other note. There was a question regarding some of the specifics of monster relationships and how those work. You will get your answer very soon in the story!


	35. Ch 32 - The Difference

Ch 32 - The Difference

The cool, night air felt good against your hot, pink face. Sans scooted closer to you on the roof, wrapping the blanket tightly around your bodies to keep you warm. During the day the spring sun warmed everything it touched, but winter still chilled the night and frost bloomed around you over the rough shingles.

“sure you’re okay?” Sans’ low voice asked quietly. You nodded, rubbing at your red eyes. “I know you wanted to tell me about your past, but…”

“It’s okay. I wanted to.” you mumbled and shook your head. Sans had been such a good listener, too. He had listened intently to every word you said, had held you close when you started to cry… and when you went to show him your scars he had gently stopped you. He told you that it could be done another day, that you had been through enough tonight. Then he kissed the tears from your cheeks and brought you beneath the beautiful, starry sky. “I’m glad I did. It still hurt to say, but it was easier this time.”

“because you’ve already said it?” Sans asked, the arm he had over your shoulders squeezing you gently.

“Not just that,” you leaned your head on his shoulder and looked out over the dark woods, at the river of tiny, white lights in the inky sky. “I mean, yeah, it helps to know that others accepted it before, but… since you opened up to me about your own past I knew you’d understand what it’s like. Because you know how it feels to hurt and to have people avoid you because of an accident. You know what it’s like to lose someone, too.”

Sans nuzzled his face into your hair and whispered in your ear, “you know, I really appreciate you telling me. now I know how to help you more in the next timeline.”

“I’d rather help you now and keep this timeline going,” you sighed back, your arms snaking around his chest as you clung to his black t-shirt.

“if you really want to help me protect this timeline, don’t hide strange things from me.” His hand, the one over your shoulder, clenched into a fist. “like seeing shadows or feeling compelled to wander off. how can I look out for you if i don’t know?”

“I’m sorry,” you mumbled and looked down at your blanket. “I didn’t… want anyone to know. Seeing things and hearing voices that aren’t there… I didn’t want you to think I was losing my mind.”

“do you honestly think I would’ve judged you?” Sans pulled away from you, a touch of hurt in his low voice. “Thyme, you know everyone called me mad after Wings died! just for remembering that he existed when no one else did! if you had told me about these things earlier I could’ve helped you figure it all out.”

“I’m sorry,” you mumbled again, drawing your knees up to your chest beneath the blanket.

Silence fell between you both. Sans let out a soft sigh as he leaned back on his other arm. He pulled at you gently, like he wanted you to lie back on the shingles with him, but you resisted.

“Do you… really think that shadow is why I disappear?” you asked slowly.

“maybe,” he shrugged, releasing you in favor of lying down. You glanced over your shoulder at him and watched him nestle his arms behind his skull like a pillow. “I have no idea what it means, but I don’t like it. I’ve seen something like you described before. back when I was hunting Chara I would catch glimpses of something following them around. it never appeared with a song, though. that’s new. that part might not be related at all.”

“Did Frisk see it, too?” you asked, deciding to lie down with him as a gust of cold wind snuck in through the blanket.

Sans shrugged. “no idea. I never saw it around them when I was watching them. it’s possible that they did, but there’s no way of knowing. Frisk refuses to speak ever since they were exposed to the barrier.”

“You didn’t mention seeing a shadow when you told me about Chara.”

“once is a chance,” Sans murmured, his white eye lights flickering as he stared up at the nearly-full moon. “Chara, by my theory, was an anti-soul. wild magic flows throughout the Underground - who knows how it would’ve reacted to a soul like theirs? but for you to see it, and to have the power to reset, too… twice is too much of a coincidence. it makes my marrow crawl.”

You rolled onto your side and propped yourself up on an elbow so you were overlooking Sans. “Do you think this shadow has something to do with the resets?”

Sans shrugged again. “maybe. knowing this figure appeared twice so close to those who could reset would suggest that someone else is out there that’s aware of the power and is after it. there’s just not enough information to tell for sure. not unless we have a third instance and a pattern forms.” His eye lights dimmed with anger and he growled, “I’m not about to let your soul be destroyed or twisted and allow the reset power to jump again.”

A cool wind blew and you nestled into Sans’ side for warmth. He adjusted his arms so that one of them could rest over your waist. You looked up at the bottom of his jaw, wondering. “Has the power only been wielded by humans?”

“I would assume so.” Sans nodded and glanced down at you. “time is an incredibly powerful type of magic. the old alchemists dabbled in it before but had disastrous results.”

“Alchemists?”

“those whose studies and experiments are purely based in old magic,” Sans explained. “back before the war and the barrier they used to work alongside shamans, those were humans who could use magic, to try and understand the big secrets of our world. time, memory, change, life… all of these things and more have roots in old magic.”

You hummed in thought. “It’s weird to think that humans could use magic, once. I always thought that was just the stuff of fairy tales.”

“you still kind of do, without really knowing it,” Sans squeezed your hip and flashed you a smile. “humans can’t summon or manipulate their magic consciously anymore, but you forget how incredibly deep the wells of magic you carry within your souls are. humans are so powerful, Thyme. they simply have to exist in a place and it bends around them. they change everything they touch in an instant and they’re incredibly resilient and adaptive.”

You fidgeted with the dark cloth of his shirt beneath your fingers, not entirely believing him. If you were so influential, just because you were human, then why did life feel so difficult? If humans could cause change just by being, why did you have to fight so hard for acceptance and love? If you were so powerful, why couldn’t you stop your parents from dying? Why couldn’t you stop the resets just by willing it to be?

As if sensing your dark thoughts (or maybe he knew because of your soul sound,) Sans rolled onto his side and propped himself over you with his elbow. “you’re the perfect example of this,” his low voice murmured. You looked up at him and it was hard to discern his soft eye lights against the backdrop of stars. “what you lived through would’ve destroyed one of my kind. not only that, but you didn’t let it change you for the worst. you’re still true to the Kindness of your soul and you give it freely to those around you. I’ve watched you try to take care of me and my bros over and over despite the pain you quietly carried and it’s fucking incredible.”

A bitter smile made its way onto your face and you looked away. “It took me a long time to get back on my feet and remember myself, Sans.”

“the important thing is you remembered.” Sans said. His thumb gently traced your jawline. You nodded and leaned into the comforting touch, grateful for it. “I’m sorry that you were alone for so long…”

“The important thing is that I’m not anymore,” you replied softly, turning your head to catch his fingers with your lips. “I’ll be okay as long as I have you and the others for the rest of my days. I’ve never felt more loved than when I’m with you guys.”

“you know,” Sans mumbled quietly, and hesitated. You looked over at him and he stared off into the sky. His other hand found yours beneath the blanket and he interlaced his fingers with yours. “part of the reason why this is so hard for me, this whole reset business… is because of what it means if we get it to end. what I said earlier about you never truly dying… if the resets don’t bring you back, then you’re just gone. compared to an infinite... it’s hard to think we’d have so little time together when I know I’ll outlive you.”

You glanced up at the stars one last time before turning and settling yourself on top of Sans. He held his arms off to the side, his white eye lights wide with surprise, as you nuzzled the side of his skull and held him tight.

“I can’t guarantee our life together will be easy as we live it,” you muttered, moving his arms so that he held you back, “but if I were you, and I remembered everything, I’d like to have the moments after. the ones where we already know what we mean to each other and can do things like this - hold each other and stargaze and talk about these heavy things that weigh on us before we comfort each other. Those moments where I find you and you can’t place what timeline you’re in or what we mean to each other really hurt. I want you to remember all the good things we share together. It’s not fair to you, either, to just have a repeat of a beginning where I don’t remember you.”

Sans tightened his hold on you and you gently kissed the side of his skull. Softly, you told him, “You say I’m strong, but the only reason I’ve kept fighting all these years even though I had no one to fight for is because of what it cost to live. My dad sacrificed his life to give me mine. If I just gave up then he would’ve died for nothing. If you need something to think of when you’re depressed, a reason to get out of bed and fight, you should remember Wings. He gave his life to try and set you free. Now that you’re free of the barrier, don’t give up fighting and trap yourself again inside a loop of time. Wings wouldn’t have wanted that. And when these resets stop and I die for the last time, never forget that I lived loving you and trying to show you how to be happy again.”

His arms slid over your back and you could feel him fiddling with his bracelet against the small of your back. “no matter what happens,” Sans said quietly, “...I’ll always remember you.”

~~~

You opened your eyes to the dark ceiling of your room, unsure of what had woken you until you felt a feathery tickle across your chest. You rolled onto your back and Sans, who had been spooning you in your sleep, murmured. His words were rolling and deep, like a waterfall, and you recognized the sound of Font as surely as you saw the scentless yellow magic seeping from his left socket. The yellow plasma glowed faintly and crept slowly, like vines, across your sheets. You laid still in the dark, curious.

Last time you had seen this, the only other time, the magic had scared you witless. The sight of it still made you uneasy, but now you understood it better. Sans had explained to you that it was residual magic from his accident. It couldn’t hurt you at all. This ghostly, yellow magic was all that was left of-

“Wings.” you breathed. The magic stilled, frozen at that word, and you stared at it. The moment you moved, even though you just breathed, it vanished into the dark like it had never been. Sans rolled in his sleep. His brow furrowed and a dark murmuring of deep, rolling Font escaped him.

You sat up and gently shook his frame, whispering his name to wake him, silently cursing that you couldn’t understand what he was saying. Sans’ sockets snapped open. The left one pulsed with bright yellow light against the dark. Then the light wavered, turned white, and his right socket reignited its eye light.

“Are you okay, Sans?” you asked quietly, watching as he slowly sat up and held his skull in his hand. “Did you have another bad dream?”

His white lights darted around - at you, at the blue and red echo flower by your dresser, and at himself. “not... really,” he mumbled, taking in his borrowed t-shirt with its picture of a broken clock.

“Was it about Wings?”

His eye lights widened a bit with surprise, then he slowly nodded.

“Do you want to talk about it?” you asked, laying your hand over his wrist as he examined his plastic bracelet. “You were speaking Font in your sleep and you sounded upset.”

Sans stared off into the dark for so long, you were sure he was going to either shrug it off or tell you not to worry about it. It surprised you when he said, “it’s the same one I usually have. I dream about this giant hall of doors. no matter what one I go through I end up in this empty room with another set of doors. all the rooms i walk into look the same, but I can never go back the way I came and I get lost trying to find my way back to the hall. sometimes I find him standing in one of the rooms. he never says anything to me but I… talk to him.”

“About what?”

“...this time?” Sans leaned over his knees and rested his bony elbows on them. “I… asked if it could stop. me dreaming about him. I want to move on and I don’t feel like I can if I keep seeing him like that.” You shuffled closer to him and draped your arm over his shoulders. Sans glanced at you before resting his head on your shoulder. “I used to, back when I first saw him… I begged him to come back to me. then when I got Pap, I asked him for advice on how to raise a kid. when we moved up to the surface, I vented to him about all of my worries since it’s my responsibility as head of house to keep the family from falling apart. he’s never once answered me.”

“It’s normal to dream about loved ones we’ve lost. Dreams are our subconscious minds trying to process our waking thoughts or memories,” you said gently, trying to be sensitive about the current subject, as you rubbed along his spine to comfort him. “Abstract visions like your hall of doors is just your mind interpreting what it’s trying to deal with. With your inability to forget because of your hyperthymesia and the added stressor of the resets and your responsibilities it’s no wonder you’re dreaming about getting lost. If you want recurring dreams to go away it would help more if you spoke your problems aloud rather than feeding them back into your own mind.”

“yeah,” Sans nodded, rolling his skull to the side so he could flash you a tired grin. “I’m trying.”

You smiled and kissed his bony brow. “I know you are.”

Sans caught your hand and gently pulled you in close, enough that you could feel the heat of his breath on your neck. “that goes for you, too, Thyme,” he turned your chin down and slipped you a taste of rain with a kiss and his blue tongue. He leaned back slightly, his white eye lights searching your face. “are you having weird dreams? I know our talks aren’t always easy for you…”

“The last time I remembered my dreams was after we first talked about the timelines. I think I had one once about giant hands setting me in water, but considering my fear of fire that’s not the strangest dream I’ve had.” you admitted. “I’m doing okay right now, though. What happened in the other timelines isn’t hitting as hard as accepting their existence in the first place. I’ve already accepted that I’ve died before.”

“but if you are feeling overwhelmed... or if you come across strange things again...” Sans traced his finger up the inside of your forearm, sending shivers through you, “you promise you’ll talk to me instead of hiding it?”

You nodded, your cheeks pink as that tickling touch finally settled when he held your wrist. “Promise. As long as you keep yours, too, to come to me when you get depressed and to talk about your worries.”

Sans agreed and you quirked your brow as he came back in to pepper your jawline with skeleton kisses. “Looks like you’re feeling a lot better, though.”

“always do, after you pull the poison from my soul.” Sans hummed and his grin widened. “so... do you want to have some fun? we could pick up where we left off earlier tonight.”

You narrowed your eyes into a glare, scrutinizing his expression. He quirked a bony brow at you and his smile turned into a smirk, as if he was daring you to challenge him. You rolled your eyes, fished one of your hands out from the blankets, and hooked your fingers beneath his collarbone.

“You still broke a promise to me. Did you think I forgot?” you growled, pulling him in by that slim bone till your nose brushed his nasal ridge. Sans’ white lights widened and he flushed blue above his eager smirk. “If you want to claim me, show me you mean to keep it this time.”

“yes ma’am,” he breathed, his color deepening as you gave him a small peck on his teeth. He leaned forward, as if he was expecting more to the kiss. His lights flickered with surprise when you let go of his collarbone and turned your head away. He grinned evilly, caught your cheeks between his thumb and pointer finger, and turned you back to face him. “you know, you’re a bit of a hypocrite, since you hid things from me, too. how about we just call it even?”

“Nope,” you huffed, smirking playfully as you stopped Sans from chasing the kiss with a pair of fingers to his mischievous grin. “You don’t get any honey, my little bee, until you put in the work.”

“mmm, talk about a buzz kill,” Sans grumbled, that grin of his widening. “I’ve got hive a mind to sneak a taste anyway.”

“Not until I punish you,” you said flirtatiously, turning away again as he tried to catch your lips. He was right, it was hard to stay mad at him when you hadn’t been bringing up all of your own worries, but he had still promised he’d work with you about the timelines and you still had to practically force your help on him.

Sans’ hand released your wrist and started to wander towards your waist. You caught his twitching fingers and pinned them to the bed, glaring at him. “If you behave, I promise it won’t sting as much.”

“...and if I don’t  _ bee-have _ ?” Sans asked, his lights settling into a haze as he looked you over.

“Then it’s knot going to be much fun when you’re tied up all afternoon.”

“are you sure that’s a punishment?” Sans leaned into you, hard, and forced you onto the bed on your back. He climbed on top of you and sat on your hips. His hands blocked off either side of your red face, tunneling your vision towards his smirk, which became devilish. “just remember,” he lowered himself so his chest was barely touching you and his low voice growled, “that this goes both ways, Thyme. if you break your promise to me I’ll rope you into my own punishment.”

~~~

The pink and purple sunrise filled the sky over the tops of the forest. Pap must’ve fixed the window at some point - the tape was gone and you had an unobstructed view of the new leaves unfurling on the tops of the trees. New grass was poking out through the thawing mud of the lawn and the scant puddles reflected the morning light like mirrors. You stared idly out at the spring scene. Your hands worked on autopilot at the counter while you made lattes, since your mind was busy with your thoughts from last night.

What you said to Sans while stargazing hadn’t been a lie - you weren’t feeling overwhelmed by your talk of the timelines this time. Accepting their existence the first time had been hard enough, since you had also accepted back then that you had died before. Seeing the details hadn’t been as difficult as you anticipated. Maybe it was because those deaths happened to other yous; maybe it was because you didn’t remember them happening. Or, you considered, maybe it was because you were getting used to hearing hard to accept things. Living with monsters - hearing their stories and helping them heal from their pasts - had made you stronger in a way.

While you poured a generous portion of steamed milk into your pair of mugs you considered what Sans had told you about the other humans - Chara and Frisk. He had said that he had only known humans to wield the power to reset, but why? Humans could use magic a long time ago, so why would that ability start to return now and with something as powerful as time? It occurred to you that those two might’ve been affected by the ambient magic in the Underground, but then how did you gain the power? Had it always been inside you? But if that were true, then why would Frisk not have the ability anymore despite being alive? Broken, sure, but alive.

A small chuckle escaped you as you stared at the two mugs in front of you. You were so distracted by your own thoughts that you didn’t remember that you didn’t have to make so much. You also forgot that you were trying to avoid extra sugar in the morning. With a shrug, you brought both mugs over to the kitchen table to where your books were spread out. Treating yourself every now and then wasn’t so bad.

Even though Milord wasn’t home yet (the thought made your heart clench tightly) you still set the other mug across the table next to the empty chair. At least the morning was quiet. You could use this time to catch up on homework and rewrite Sans’ notes. It was painfully obvious, with how disorganized his written recollection of the timelines was, that he never had to take notes a day in his life. Then again, why would a guy who remembers everything ever need to?

You took out your notebook containing your details of your plant experiment and flipped to the clean pages in the back to start writing. As you stared at Sans’ chicken scratch, trying to mentally group the first timeline together, your hand fell to tug at the hem of your red shirt dress. It kept catching on the stitched ivy pattern of your white, thigh-high stockings. You took a large sip of your latte, appreciating the creaminess of the milk, and shook your head to try to clear the morning fog from your brain.

The soft scritching of your pencil filled your ears as you neatly copied Sans’ notes. A small line of text in the margins of the first timeline made you pause and raise an eyebrow. ‘Late’ was all it said. What did that mean? You slowly flipped through the other pages, to see if that note of significance was repeated anywhere else, and couldn’t find another one like it or any other details. You’d just have to ask Sans what that meant.

The click of the door and a fumbling noise, like someone tripping in the hall, caused you to freeze. You swept all of the notes on the timelines into your backpack and turned your head to listen. Your heart was pounding in your ears, but you could make out the distinct click of boots against the hardwood floor.

Thinking of Milord, you jumped out of your chair and darted to the archway of the kitchen. You froze once again as you saw that it wasn’t Milord crumpled on the stairs on his hands and knees. It was Edge.

He looked awful. His sockets were dark and his shoulders sagged with exhaustion. His black clothes weren’t black anymore - they were stained dark grey with dust. Edge leaned on the wall, streaking dust along the tan wallpaper. His chest heaved as he breathed before he grabbed onto the railing and righted himself. His red boots clicked on the wood as he found his footing. The torn, red scarf around his neck slipped away and fluttered to the ground as he slowly ascended the staircase. You stared after him, your eyes wide with anxiety, and wondered what you should do.

You slowly made your way towards the front door, your eyes on the wood floor and scarf bathed in light from the kitchen. Dark grey dust smeared the wood like soot and you felt your throat tighten as you picked the scarf up off the floor. The fragile grit coating it broke beneath your touch. 

You had seen injuries on the brothers before. Cracks, small ones and big ones that spiderwebbed out, but you had never seen the brothers injured to the point that dust came off them. Dust was monster blood. 

The breech was because of Ferals, and you knew that Edge was an exterminator. He had been fighting them. Was he injured? His partner had been killed...

If Edge was home, you wondered as you looked up the stairs, where was Milord? Fear filled your chest like ice water and made it hard to breathe.

You gripped the scarf tightly in your hands and climbed the stairs after Edge. The dust trail he left crunched under your stockings, leaving sooty streaks where your feet had been and staining the white material you wore.

The sunrise had yet to fully light up the house. At the top of the dark stairs you could just barely make out Edge’s room across the hall. It was a dark pit without any light, but the first weak rays coming in through the window at the far end of the hall showed that his door was left open.

“Edge?” you whispered quietly, standing on the threshold of his room. “Are you okay?”

There was a small, metallic creak, possibly from him rolling on his bed, and you saw one of his red eye lights sputter into existence. It was barely there, like a flame on a matchstick struggling to stay lit in the wind. It reminded you, strangely, of Axe when he was exhausted during Butch’s color change.

“...SCARLET?” he asked quietly, his usually sharp tone dulled. You twisted his red scarf in your hands to match the feeling in your chest.

That wasn’t your name. Did he ever care to learn it? All he knew you as was - “It’s… Pet,” you mumbled, reluctant to use his derogatory nickname for you. But why did him calling you ‘Scarlet’ hurt more than being called ‘Pet?’ Even so, if he was hurt and confused, then you wouldn’t make this hard for him to figure out. “Are you-”

“GET OUT OF MY ROOM, PET,” Edge growled. He turned his skull more and you could see both of his flickering lights narrowed at you.

“I’m not in your room.” You looked down at the floor, at the slight lip that marked the door jam by your toes. You brought your gaze back up to his foggy lights, wishing you could see in the dark. “Are you hurt? Why isn’t Milord with you?”

“UGH, SHUT UP AND LEAVE ME ALONE.” Edge grumbled. The bed creaked again and his eye lights vanished as he adjusted. Worry started to fill you. If he couldn’t even muster the energy to insult you, or shout at you, how bad off was he?

“Should I get Pap?” You paused, listening for some kind of response. All you heard was shallow breathing. Steeling yourself, you reached inside the room for the wall, felt around, and flicked on the light.

It was still quite dark inside even with the light. Edge had stained all of his furniture in what seemed to be his favorite color. The desk and wooden chair to your immediate left had all been stained black and given red trim. Same with the dresser on the far end of the room. His filing cabinet, by the desk, and his bed frame, to the right, were both made of black metal. Even his circular rug was woven of the same black material as the heavy curtains covering the window on the far wall. The only thing that wasn’t black was a strange looking alarm clock next to the head of his bed. It looked like a phone screen with a string of small, bronze bells attached to it.

Edge hadn’t reacted to you turning on the light, so you took a cautious step inside with the intent to at least give him back his scarf. You paused, right in front of his desk, and glanced at his still form. The paper evidence downstairs reminded you that this was the most dangerous person in the house for you. The one most likely to kill you and cause another reset.

You looked at the dust covered scarf in your hands. Hadn’t something changed? Hadn’t Red told you, more than once, that Edge liked you? Didn’t Edge himself shake your hand and agree to give you a chance? You knew that Edge had difficulty showing any kind of affection, but he could care. He cared enough about his brothers to threaten your life if you hurt them. 

Despite that, he couldn’t even show Butch a small amount of mercy even though Edge should be able to sympathize the strongest with his color change. Edge had only ever had a somewhat civil conversation with you because you told him you could help him with Butch.

You set the scarf across the back of the chair and turned around to face Edge. He was sprawled out on his back atop his black sheets, his arms holding his pillow over his skull. His feet, closest to the door, still had their boots on. Everything he wore, down to his studded belts, was covered in dust.

“Edge?” you asked, your voice wavering slightly. He ignored you, or had already fallen asleep. You took a deep breath, bracing yourself, and said with a bit more force, “Edge! Do I need to get Pap to heal you?”

Edge still didn’t respond. You bit your lip, wondering if you were seriously overstepping your bounds for what you wanted to do. You looked him over and tried to see if you could gleam anything from a distance. His turtleneck and jeans were torn in places and hung loosely on his frame (but he was a skeleton, of course that was to be expected,) but you couldn’t tell if anything was broken just by looking. Slowly, you reached out and took the hem of his turtleneck in your fingers. You had seen Edge shirtless before, you knew he didn’t have scars like Red. If something was cracked, or broken-

Edge’s hand flew out from beneath the pillow and tightly grabbed onto your wrist. You whimpered a bit from the pressure of his grip and the grinding of the bones in your wrist as he squeezed.

“DON’T. TOUCH ME.” he hissed venomously, then shoved you away. “HOW MANY TIMES DO I HAVE TO TELL YOU?” You backpedaled into his desk, clutching at your sore wrist, and silently agreed that you’d never do so again.

“Are you hurt?” you asked, unwilling to approach him again closer than arm’s length. Considering his reach was quite long, you were still just inside it despite standing next to the desk.

“WHAT PART,” Edge lifted his pillow from his face to scowl at you, “OF ‘GET OUT’ DO YOU NOT UNDERSTAND, PET?”

You huffed, crossing your arms, “If you just answered the damn question I’d leave you alone.”

Edge glared at you, his lights still flickering, and grumbled, “...I’M FINE.”

You rolled your eyes at him. Irritation, fanned by your worry, burned in your chest. He’s been gone for days, fighting who knew how many Ferals. He’s so exhausted he can’t even climb the stairs or maintain his usual intimidating air. You couldn’t hear lies as well as Red, but it was obvious he wasn’t fine. “You know, I don’t really believe you.”

He growled at you before burning his face back into his dark pillow. “I’M LOW ON MAGIC, YOU MORON. YOU’D KNOW THAT IF YOU COULD SENSE IT.”

“Not having monster senses does make me stupid, it makes me human!”

“THAT’S EVEN WORSE.”

You took a deep breath in through your nose. Rather than say anything back, you quietly walked out of the room. He must not be that bad off if he was back to insulting you.

“SHUT THE LIGHT OFF AND CLOSE THE DAMN DOOR!” he barked at you. You bit the inside of your cheek, holding your snappy retort inside, and went down the stairs. He had kept telling you to get out, so you did. If he wanted the lights off, he could do it himself if he was so fine. If he wanted you to stay out, he could shut the door on his own volition.

Once inside the safety of the kitchen you finally let out your frustrated growl. Even exhausted, Edge still knew how to get under your skin. Why was it so damn hard for him to admit he wasn’t okay? Or ask for help when he so clearly needed it?

Why were you so worried about the jerk?

The irritation in your chest lessened somewhat. You knew why it was so hard for him. Red had been the same way when you first started to know him. Garamond, with his tortures and collars, had stamped out any hope that kindness came without strings attached. Allowing themselves to be vulnerable was a sign of weakness and, as Red had once told you, weakness got you killed in his world.

You knew Edge needed help. He was hurt, in more ways than one, and not just from what he went through with the breech. The way he learned to deal with his pains when growing up, or to get what he wanted, was to lash out at others. That much you had learned from Red and how they had lived under Garamond.

What would your mom do?

You head turned so you could glance at the silver fridge. Something sweet was always the first thing to touch a wounded heart, she had told you. It probably wasn’t good for Edge to eat a bunch of sugar right now, but he did admit he needed to replenish his magic. Hopefully Axe hadn’t touched the plates you had left.

As you slid the pie tin of goulash into the stove to warm up, you let out a small sigh. Glancing at the ceiling above, you set about the kitchen to find the butter, bread, and cheese. You healed the soreness in your wrist with a small bite from the produce in the fridge. At least he had held back. With a small shudder you reminded yourself how easily he could hurt you if he really wanted to.

You worked silently in the rising dawn. Red had been a little easier to get along with when you had first met him, despite him also having a bullying sort of personality. But Red also had a strong desire to not be alone. Edge seemed more than okay being on his own, but then why keep Scarlet close? Why hide her away and keep her from his own brother?

Because you knew, now that you had a moment to think. That was her name. Scarlet.

Just that little slip of the tongue told you so much. Edge didn’t want to be alone, either, if he still called out for her in his small moment of weakness. A presumably helpless human pet was a safe thing to lavish affection on in the lonely apartment. You knew she left. Red had said that much when you admitted you knew about Edge’s color change. She had left him - broke his heart. Then his magic turned his black and he was so much angrier. You stilled, recalling one other thing Red said. Edge didn’t have those scars across his socket until Scarlet left.

She was why Edge hated humans. It didn’t take a lot of thought to know she was why he hated you so much, too. You slowly turned your memories over as you took out the cookie tray to pile with plates of food. As you slid the sizzling grilled cheese from the pan onto a plate you wondered why Edge called you by her name if she had hurt him so badly. Did he just mistake you for her in his exhaustion? Or did he want to believe she came back?

You stared at the hot goulash between your oven mitts. Was it possible he still loved her? Is that why he hated you so much? He wanted you to be someone else? Or was he using you to lash out at someone who wasn’t there anymore? You set the tin on your tray next to the grilled cheese and a mug of ginger tea. 

That had been one of the first things you argued about to Edge. That you weren’t Her. It happened when you confronted him after his fight with Axe. He had seemed so shocked by what you knew and said that he threw a boiling pan of water at you. Then he shouted that he didn’t care what his brothers thought of him as long as they were alive and safe from you.

Your hands shook as you took the tray of steaming food in your hands. After everything Edge had been through, it was incredible that he had shaken your hand, however briefly, and given you a chance.

“Edge?” You called out softly as you crested the top of the stairs. The door was still open, but he had turned the lights off and you stared into the black void of his room. Your brow furrowed with determination. If he could get up to turn off his light, he could’ve shut his door. An open door was a silent invitation.

Carefully balancing the tray on one hand, you reached out and flicked the light back on. Edge growled from his bed and curled up on his side. You ignored the angry noise as you walked in with the tray.

“Well, sit up or you’ll spill things,” you said matter-of-factly. Edge stared at you, confused, as you offered the tray to him. You raised an eyebrow at him. “Don’t be stubborn, Edge. You said it yourself that you need to replenish your magic and you can’t do that by just sleeping.” You offered the tray again, adding, “And I swear to god if you flip this in my face you can clean the mess up yourself.”

The foggy red lights in his sockets sputtered as he narrowed them at you. Even though he was exhausted, Edge pushed himself up and sat against the dark, twisted iron of the headboard.

“YOU POISONED IT, DIDN’T YOU?” he asked slowly, his tired gaze following your every move as you set the tray on his lap. You took great care not to accidentally touch him and he let you back away without lashing out at you again. 

“That seems counter-productive, considering my goal is to make sure you’re okay.”

Edge crossed his legs to raise the tray up, making a space on the bed, as he finally looked down to consider what you brought him. He sniffed at the steam and poked at the grilled cheese with his finger. His brow was still furrowed and his eye lights flickered with some unreadable emotion as he mumbled, “WHY… ARE YOU DOING THIS?”

You took a step towards the space he had made on the black sheets. When Edge didn’t protest, you sat on the end of his bed near the door. “I told you already. I want to make sure you’re okay.”

“BUT WHY?” he hissed, stabbing at the goulash. “WHAT ARE YOU AFTER? SOME KIND OF FAVOR?”

“I already told you what my motives are,” you said simply, shrugging.

“IS THIS PITY?” Edge growled, the scant light in his sockets vanishing in anger.

“No.”

“THEN WHY ARE YOU DOING THIS?!”

You stared down at the stitched ivy of your stockings. If it wasn’t pity, why  _ were _ you doing this? Because of the promise you made to Red? Because of your own stubbornness? Edge had berated you, terrified you, and bullied his brothers in front of you. He had tried to kill you when you first met, and had actually done it many times before in alternate timelines.

But he saved you. Once. Despite the countless times you shouted at each other. Despite you slapping him across the face. All because you agreed that you would give each other a chance. You had wanted to start over with Edge and try to be friends before Red asked you for anything.

“When we shook hands...” you said slowly, considering the hem of your red dress, “I know you doubt me even if you can hear that I’m speaking the truth, but I meant what I said. I’ve been trying to show you for so long that I really do want to be friends. I don’t know why I worry about you-”

(Though it had taken others pointing it out for you to fully realize that you did.)

“-especially when you’re such a jerk-”

(He really didn’t deserve this after how he’s treated you and his brothers.)

“-but I thought, maybe, since you aren’t as mean to me as you first were,” you picked at the fabric on your knees, the echoes of Red’s words in your mind. “...maybe… you had started to like me a little bit. I thought you really meant it when you shook back. Why else would you have caught me before I fell down the stairs? I could’ve broken my neck that day but you...”

Your voice trailed off and you glanced at Edge out of the corner of your eye. His brow was furrowed with confusion above his frown. A heavy sigh escaped you. There was a saying your dad once told you: ‘You can lead a horse to water, but you can’t make it drink.’ Edge might need someone to lean on and trust, but you couldn’t force that. Every time you tried he yelled at you, threw things, or dug his heels in the ground and fought you.

“Get some rest after you finish eating,” you said quietly and rose to your feet. “I’ll leave you be. When you do feel better, we need to discuss Butch’s lesson.”

Your hand was on the doorknob when he quietly asked, “HOW DID YOU CONVINCE HIM?”

A small sigh escaped you and your shoulders sagged. “I told you, he just needed time to make his own decision.”

“I WAS EXPECTING YOU TO FAIL, YOU KNOW.” Edge said, contemplating his grilled cheese before taking another bite. A string of melted colby stretched between the sandwich and his sharp teeth. He broke it with his black tongue, drawing the tendril into his void as he contemplated you. 

You kept silent for a moment as you thought about how you fought with both Butch and Axe when the subject had been brought up. “Thanks for the confidence,” you mumbled sarcastically.

Edge quirked a bony brow at you as he dumped the plate of goulash into his void. He held the mug of tea in one hand and shoved the tray at you with the other. “NOW GET ME MORE, PET.”

“Excuse me?” you asked, eyeing the empty tray on the bed.

He rolled his eye lights and said flatly, as if explaining this to you was tiring him further, “I’M STILL HUNGRY, SO GO GET ME MORE FOOD.”

“I might if you ask nicely,” you grumbled. Even if he just asked, instead of telling you to do it that would be fine. It was more than you could hope for to expect politeness from him.

Edge waved a hand at you while he sipped his tea. “GO ON, PET. FETCH.”

“ _ Don’t _ treat me like that!” you snarled, bristling at the command. “I was just trying to do something nice for you. If you’re feeling good enough to berate me, then take care of yourself! I’m nobody’s pet and I’m sure as hell not your servant! _ ” _

You pulled the door roughly shut and stomped down the stairs. A part of you chastised yourself for being angry and saying what you did, but you told that part to shut the fuck up as you pulled your things back out of your bookbag. All you wanted to do was something nice and make sure he was okay. Did he really have to treat you like that?

Feeling irritable, you downed the last of your latte and ripped a piece of paper out of your notebook, to scribble a note to Red, and returned upstairs to stick it in his door. If anyone was going to be happy that Edge was home, it was him. You just really didn’t feel like waking him up and having any kind of conversation right now.

Back in the kitchen, you slumped down into your chair and took the second latte from the other side of the table to hold. With everything that happened with Edge, and the several confusing points your brief conversation brought up, you forgot to pry an answer from him about where Milord was. A low groan escaped you as you let your forehead fall with a bang onto the table.

If something had happened to him, Mutt would tell you, wouldn’t he?

He wouldn’t be able to sleep so soundly in his chair if his brother was dead, right?

You ground your teeth together, frustrated that all you could do was sit here and wait for him to come home. You couldn’t call him or even text him or-

You sat up.  _ You _ couldn’t call him, but that didn’t mean no one else could. Your chair squeaked against the tile as you pushed away from the table and hurried towards the basement.

The stairs creaked beneath your feet and the concrete walls were cool to the touch as you felt your way down into the dark. You could hear Mutt snoring and guessed, even before you flicked on the light, that he was still asleep in his chair. The knot of anxiety you carried eased somewhat as you came to his side and shook his frame beneath the sheet.

“Mutt,” you whispered, more than a few times, as you tried to gently wake him. He murmured in his sleep and rolled his skull away from you. You shook him harder, barking his name to wake him up.

Mutt jerked awake at the loud, sudden noise and sat up. The sheet that covered him slid off his frame and into his lap. The foggy, red lights in his sockets flickered feebly as he took you in and he gave you a tired smile. “Oh, it’s you, pretty bird.”

“I’m sorry to wake you,” you said, letting him draw you into his lap. He slid down in his chair, nuzzling the side of your face, and settled in to fall back asleep. You poked him in his ribs to keep the foggy lights in his sockets. “I know you’re tired, but I need to know… Edge just got home and Milord isn’t with him. Where is he?”

“Edge is home?” Mutt wearily repeated. You nodded and he rubbed at the corner of his socket with his knuckle. “How long was I asleep?”

“Since yesterday afternoon…”

“Oh. That’s not too long.” Mutt yawned widely, giving you a good look at the black void at the back of his mouth. “Milord’ll be home soon, Robin.”

“But he’s okay?” you asked, unable to shake the feeling of worry you had. “Edge is covered in dust and I can’t tell if he’s hurt. Milord’s not stuck in the Underground because of an injury, right?”

“He’s just got more stuff to take care of since he’s Captain and all that. Give him time. He’ll be home before you know it.” Mutt shrugged and closed his sockets. 

That made sense. You know how much Milord worked overtime, even on his days off, to keep up with his duties as Captain. It was hard to imagine how many new things he had to do after something like a breech. Feeling a little better, you shook Mutt again and softly suggested that he fall asleep in his bed this time.

“Mmm… stay with me?” Mutt purred, wrapping his arms around you, and made no motion he wanted to leave his chair.

“Not now, love. I’ve got things to do but I’ll make up for this once you’re awake.” You kissed his cheekbone and gently extracted yourself from his embrace. To make things easier for him, you pushed his chair across the basement floor so that he could roll himself onto his bed. Which he did so with a grateful murmur. You pulled his sheets over him, smiling gently as he nestled down into his mattress, and gave him another kiss on his skull. “Rest up as much as you need. I’ll come get you when it’s dinner time.”

“If I’m still sleeping by dinner,” Mutt mumbled into his pillow, “just leave me be. I don’t want to be up all night with Edge for company. Wake me tomorrow morning, will you?”

You pursed your lips, debating if letting him sleep for that long was healthy. But he had been awake for nearly four days prior, you reminded yourself, and monsters were a lot different than humans in some of their needs. “All right,” you agreed. “I’ll make you coffee tomorrow and we can do something fun together before I go to school.”

You flicked the basement light off as you climbed the creaky stairs; listening to Mutt’s snores as he quickly fell back asleep. You smiled to yourself. The last time you had seen him sleep so much was when you first moved in. You mulled that thought over as you cleaned up your homework from the table. Had there been a breech back then, too? You thought it was curious that he could fall asleep anywhere, but had he just been overworked?

Shaking that thought from your mind (you didn’t need anything else to worry over, at the moment) you sipped your cold latte and moved your backpack to a chair. Doing something, rather than straining your brain, sounded a lot better at the moment. No one else had been bothering to clean much since Milord was gone and that dust Edge tracked in wasn’t going to mop itself up. You rifled through your backpack, to reference the chore list Sans had given back to you, and scanned the neat list Milord had written on the other side of the pages.

“I forgot he mops the ceilings,” you sighed to yourself, reading through the bullet points of tasks for the entryway before stuffing the notes safely back in your backpack. Cleaning the ceiling was one thing you couldn’t do, (he must use magic to lift the mop that high,) but you could do most everything else.

You spent a moment tying the bell of your dress back to keep it out of the way and made your way to the cupboard under the stairs. Bottles of cleaning product, buckets, the mop and broom, all fell out at your feet in an unruly mess. You stared at it. A heavy sigh left you as you remembered Red and his cat-like behavior the night of the storm. If you were going to clean, now was the time to organize it.

Cleaning up the dust on the floor and the wall had been the hardest thing to do. It just didn’t seem to want to come out of the wood with the mop alone - you had to fill a bucket, don the yellow rubber gloves Pap occasionally used, and scrub the floor on your hands and knees with a brush to get the stubborn grit out of the woodwork. Even the wallpaper looked a little faded where you had taken the brush to it. By the time you were done your clothes were streaked with grey. You grabbed your backpack from the kitchen and went back upstairs to change.

The sun outside steadily rose and the sky turned from purple and pink into a pale, clear blue. You had changed into a purple sweater dress and black, thigh-high socks while Sans snored softly in your bed. You smiled at him, glad that he seemed to finally be resting peacefully. 

A small thought occurred to you as you retrieved the loose pages from your backpack to reference the chore list once more. You pulled out your notebook as well, the one with your experiment listed, and tore the sheets of copied notes free from the spiral. You had offered to Milord, once, that he was free to come and look at your work so that he could use it for the Underground. If he found these pages it would be awfully hard to explain to him what they meant without revealing Sans’ secret.

With one eye on Sans, you shoved your hand beneath the space under the bed and felt around for the hole in the fabric of the box spring. Touching the small slit, your fingers quickly found your lockbox. It had only been used for your savings. All of the extra bills that you had left over from when Sans had first paid you had been stored inside, but now you moved them all aside to make room for the notes as well.

You were just about to close the lid and spin the series of numbers on the lock when you thought of something else. Quietly, with one eye on Sans’ sleeping form, you rose to your feet and fetched Red’s old collar from your dresser. That was something secret as well. It belonged safely inside your lockbox and hidden inside the box spring.

The spotless entryway and the living room smelled faintly of cleaning products as you passed them on your way back to the kitchen. You had just started to wipe down the cabinets and appliances when Red sauntered in. He looked to be in a mood already. His sharp teeth were turned down in a scowl, his headphones were on, and he kicked at a chair to move it out from the table before taking a seat.

“Are you okay?” You asked from the counter, a bottle of cleaner in one hand and a rag in another. It wasn’t very unusual for Red to be grumpy, but you had thought he’d be happy to know Edge was home.

Red removed his headphones as his crimson eye lights looked over the half-cleaned kitchen. “th’ fuck yeh doin’, Doll?” he grumbled, looking over at you as you balanced on the counter on your knees.

“Um… cleaning?” You showed him the rag and raised an eyebrow. Wasn’t it obvious? Since it seemed like he hadn’t heard your question, you asked him again, “Is everything okay?”

“I smelled that,” Red gave a rough gesture towards the bottle of cleaner in your hand. “thought if short stack was back, then maybe…” he let out a frustrated growl and pushed at the table with his untied sneaker. His chair teetered dangerously. “should’a figured it was too soon.”

“Um, Edge _ is _ home,” you said slowly. 

Red stilled, his crimson eye lights wide as they snapped over to you. He moved his foot from the table and his chair fell to the floor with a bang. “why th’ fuck didn’ yeh tell me?” he snarled, his sockets going black.

You narrowed your eyes in confusion, setting the bottle and rag on the counter before you slid off the marble onto the floor. “I left you a note in your door. Didn’t you get that?”

“th’ fuck’s a piece a paper gotta say that yeh can’t?!”

You blinked a few times, understanding slowly hitting you. “Red… can you... read?”

“hell no, there ain’t no point,” Red grumbled, his nasal ridge flushing crimson. He sank in his chair and avoided your eyes.

You smiled sadly and kicked yourself for not realizing that sooner. You knew education in the Underground was terrible, but so many of the brothers could read (even with difficulty) that you hadn’t really considered that any of them might be completely illiterate. That was why Red never got curious about your books, or why he never asked about the bands he listened to by name. You had just assumed the reason was entirely because he didn’t like to talk about the things he enjoyed.

You left the yellow gloves by the sink and went to the table to stand by Red. “Edge got home this morning. I caught him coming in,” you said gently, trying to calm his irritation. “He’s upstairs sleeping.”

“yeh checked on ‘im?” Red asked, his crimson eye lights returning to his sockets with a renewed shine to them. You nodded and folded your arms across your chest, debating on how much to say.

“He looks exhausted. I’m not sure if he’s injured, but when I offered to wake up Pap he told me not to bother,” you said quietly, staring at the floor as you decided to keep your interaction with Edge, and the fact that he was covered in dust, to yourself. The last thing you wanted was Red breaking Edge’s door down to check him over. Edge had already nearly broken your wrist for trying to inspect him and you knew he wasn’t above knocking his brothers around. “He’s well enough to move around and make conversation, but I made sure he ate something at the very least.”

Red jumped up from his chair and nearly crushed you in an embrace. “yer ‘n angel, Dollface,” his rough voice mumbled in your ear. You patted his back, more to signal you needed air than to reassure him, and Red eased up on his grip. “I…” he hesitated and nestled his face into your neck. “I know he’s a fuckin’ asshole,” he said slowly, his hands trailing up your back, to your shoulders, to hold you in place. “but... thanks fer not given’ up on ‘im.”

“I still don’t know why you think he likes me,” you sighed to the side of Red’s skull, “but I’ll keep trying, at least.”

You felt Red smile against your skin. “hey, uh, yeh want another Font lesson?” he asked, surfacing with a small bit of color on his skull. “I wanna do somethin’ fer yeh. we ain’t done that in awhile ‘n yeh already made good on yer payment fer another.”

“I’d be okay with that, but I haven’t finished cleaning yet…” you trailed off and looked back towards the counter. 

“fuck that,” Red rolled his eye lights at you and grabbed your wrist, pulling you from the kitchen. “yer too good teh act like tiny.”

You giggled and allowed Red to pull you up the stairs towards his room. He was right, you hadn’t worked on your Font in awhile. It had been kind of hard to do so with all that had happened between you two, but now that you both were on good terms again it would be nice to practice. Especially, you thought quietly to yourself, since you wanted to prove Sans wrong and show him you  _ could _ learn monster language. You smiled fondly at Red as he shut the two of you away in his room. It also helped that he seemed really excited to spend time with you.

“alright, Doll,” Red sank onto the black sheets of his mattress and patted the spot next to him; where your dead phone was also waiting. You sat obediently as he picked up his guitar and he began to idly pluck at the strings. “las’ time yeh figured out how teh speak, but yer fuckin’ terrible at listenin’. thought we could start with that.”

“Or,” you grinned at him as you laid on your belly, propping your chin up on your hands as you listened to him smoothly strum through scales, “you could play me a song? It sounds like you’ve learned a lot since I gave that to you.”

Red glared at you. “helps keep me calm,” he grumbled, rubbing at the color rising on his nasal ridge to banish it. “I ain’t good at this teachin’ shit an’ it don’ help when I get frustrated.”

Your grin widened into a smile. His good mood was infectious. “What do you propose then, oh teacher of mine?” you asked, glancing around his room. It was still pretty empty, but it seemed more like his own space with cds scattered all over the floor among his dirty clothes and the band posters taped crookedly onto the walls. At least there weren’t any stray mustard bottles around this time.

“eh…” Red stared at the spot of wall above your head. “well, when I was learnin’, I was listenin’ all th’ time. yeh ain’t heard much Font an’ me ‘n my bros don’ really speak teh each other in it much, cuz ‘a you, so I thought I’d start talkin’ teh ya in Font only.”

Your eyes widened. You had heard of other people learning a language through immersion, but that didn’t seem like something that would be very helpful at this point. Human language had words with meaning attached to them; it wasn’t spoken solely through intent. What if you needed to have a serious conversation with Red? If he only spoke to you in Font, the language barrier would pose a lot of challenges. “Do you mean in lessons or all the time?”

Red grinned at you and replied with a curt, rock-like scrape and growl of Font.

“Red, seriously, can you at least answer that question before you start?”

He shrugged and replied again in gravelly Font.

You glared at him and sat up on the mattress. “You know, it would’ve helped if you gave me some kind of hint on how to listen. Like dropping another bird line so I can at least work it out.”

Red shook his skull, his chuckle apparent through his rough tumble of strange language. He plucked at the stings of his guitar and you swore you could hear the humor in his words.

You growled in frustration and face planted onto his mattress. “Well, if we’re doing it this way,” you grumbled to the sheets, resigning yourself to try despite the distinct lack of hints, “could you… tell me a story or something? The more I hear the better at this point.”

The ambient noise of the guitar paused as Red thought. He tapped at his golden fang, quietly searching his mind, before he started speaking.

It was like listening to a slow motion rock slide down a mountain. He must’ve been taking his time with his words, out of consideration for you, but that didn’t make it any easier to understand. You turned your head on the mattress to listen and watched him return to the guitar. With nothing else to pay attention to, you watched his hands slide up and down the neck of the instrument, his thumb plucking at the strings since he lacked a pick, and tried to make sense of the gravelly noise in your ears.

There were small fluxes in his rocky tone and points where he seemed to get excited about his story and sped up, but that might’ve just been from his practice with the instrument.

He stopped and looked at you expectantly. Realizing he was done with his story, you shook your head and shrugged your shoulders. Red growled irritably and it was reflected in a sharp note from his instrument.

“I can tell that you’re irritated, at least,” you mumbled. Red rolled his eye lights at you and spoke again. “‘Like that’s anything new.’” you guessed. His expression brightened and you sighed, “I guessed, Red. I didn’t actually understand.”

Red scowled and his hands paused on the guitar. He pointed at you, spitting a sharp reply like shale shattering, and you lifted your hands up towards the ceiling.

“I don’t know what you’re saying. I get what you’re trying to do, and I think it’s a good idea,” you said, trying to keep your own irritation at bay, “but can you please,  _ please, _ switch back to English for five minutes so I can have some kind of hint? I don’t know what to do.”

“there ain’t no trick teh it, Doll,” Red growled irritably. “yeh listen, hear intent, ‘n yeh understand.”

“I get that, but I can’t even fully understand the things  _ I’m saying _ in Font!” You rolled onto your back and let your arms flop out to the side. “I’m not like you. I can’t just… hear Spanish in a song for the first time and know what the words mean. What if I was just like… ‘parle français’ to you?”

“je dirais que ce n'est pas si difficile.” Red smirked at you as your jaw dropped. He picked up your dead phone and held it out to you. “that ain’t th’ first time I heard French, Dollface. they got some decent metal bands.”

You narrowed your eyes at him and took your phone back. He might not be able to read, but that didn’t mean he couldn’t fall down rabbit holes on music websites. “...say something in German.”

Red rolled his eyelights. “wo soll ich anfangen?”

“Japanese.”

“tanoshinde imasu ka?” Red said, his crimson eyelights flattening at you in exasperation. “kore ga dono yō ni anata o tasukete iru no ka wakarimasen.”

“Okay, seriously, how the hell are you doing that?” You got onto your knees and got in his face, not even mad anymore. “That’s seriously impressive, Red! I’ve said it before, but you’ve got a major gift in language!”

A small crimson flush bloomed on his nasal ridge and Red focused his soft eye lights on his guitar. “I told yeh Doll, it ain’t that hard. yer kind put a lot of intent in their songs so it’s easy teh pick up. yeh said so yerself, when yeh showed me that one song when we first listened together. yeh didn’ understand, but yeh felt th’ meanin’.”

“Wait a minute,” you watched Red fiddle with the strings and produce a series of anxious notes. “Red, sing me a song.”

“eh?” Red immediately stopped strumming to stare at you.

“Just hear me out,” you scooted closer on your knees and Red leaned away from you, his color rising again at the excitement singing in your soul. “You told me once that speaking in Font was letting your intent speak first, then the words follow. When I sang for you that one time, you told me you could feel my intent so much that it actually brought out things you were wanting yourself! So if you sing for  _ me _ maybe I can get a better understanding on how to hear your intent. Then I can put in practice by listening to you speak!”

Maybe it was so easy for him to pick up other languages, you reasoned, because a good singer knew how to lace their words with the intent of the song. They felt the music before it ever reached their throats. Was that what he meant when he tried to explain how to speak Font? That you had to feel it like you felt a song?

“hell no. I don’t sing, Doll.” Red growled, turning away from you to hide the deep, crimson flush on his skull.

“Please?”

“no.”

“Come on, Red! Why not?”

“does it sound like I got th’ voice fer it?” Red snapped and pointed at the bones of his neck.

“I sang for you,” you pouted. “I’m not exactly a world-class voice myself, you know. I’m not going to judge you.” You watched Red turn away from you again. His grip tightened on the neck of the guitar to the point the wood groaned beneath his hand. His eye lights snapped over to the noise before he sighed and leaned the instrument back up against the wall.

“I ain’t like yeh,” Red mumbled, his hand coming up to pull at the white fur of his black hood. “yeh wear yer soul on yer sleeve an’ that kinda shit comes easy fer yeh. hell, I had teh get half sloshed jus’ teh open up teh ya. besides teachin’ yeh Font, music’s th’ only thing I got left teh give. if I sing fer yeh, Doll I… I want it teh really mean somethin’. so don’ ask me again.”

You sat back on your heels, a sinking feeling in your gut, and silently chastised yourself. Of course singing would be extra personal to him; to any monster. You knew about resonance and what it did for them. Not to mention that it was hard enough for Red to speak his mind. It was far easier for him to show affection through actions, not with words or songs. “I’m sorry, Red. I didn’t think that through…”

“yeh ain’t always such a smartass.” Red flashed you a sharp-toothed grin that made his gold fang shine. 

“Do you… want to keep going with the lesson?” you asked, slightly encouraged by his calm demeanor. “You could tell me another story in Font and keep playing guitar in the background. Maybe if I listen to them both like I would a foreign song I can still try to hear your intent.”

Red narrowed his crimson lights at you, but he picked his guitar back up. “yeah, alright.”

~~~

The dining table felt full again for the first time in ages.

You sat between Red and Sans, graciously accepting a large, toasted tomato caprese sandwich and cesar salad that Butch handed to you. Pap, who was prepping plates on the clean counter, handed Butch two more plates when he scurried back over. Red kept shooting glances over you at Sans, jealousy eyeing the band shirt of yours that Sans still wore.

Axe sat across from you, his red eye light soft as he watched you with a vacant grin on his skull. You had already tried to ask him about his morning. He wasn’t much for conversation at the moment, but when you asked about what he wanted to do this afternoon his red eye light flashed with excitement. His grin only widened as he kept to his silence.

Mutt had actually woken up briefly at the tantalizing smell of buttered, toasted bread, basil, and nutty pesto. But his company was short lived - he had fallen back asleep with his skull on the table and Butch had to poke him awake before he could take his plate.

Even Edge had come down, to everyone’s surprise. When Sans asked about his unusual daytime behavior, Edge just complained loudly that he wasn’t fed well enough and took his usual spot next to Red. You ignored this small slight in order to hold on to your good mood. Instead, you focused on Butch as he took a seat next to Axe and discussed your plans for your experiment and the garden. Pap, who sat on Butch’s other side, eagerly joined in by asking about the kinds of things you would need to make your vision of the lawn come true.

That meant almost everyone was together again. Only Milord was absent, but the rest of the brothers seemed confident he would return soon now that Edge was back.

Halfway through the meal Sans got to his feet. His chair squeaked back on the tile and he cleared his non-existent throat to get everyone’s attention.

“hey, guys,” he said, his low tone carrying across the table. “I don’t normally flex my spot as head of house, but there are some things I want to go over with you now that most of us are here.” 

Everyone paused with their meal to stare at him. Axe poked Mutt awake so he could listen, too. Edge grumbled irritably, but even he set his fork back onto his plate for Sans’ announcement.

Sans scratched at the back of his skull and shifted on his feet from the attention. “as most of you know, once Milord returns Paps and I are going to go get Undyne and her brother from the Underground for a visit. they’ll be here for a few days, so I wanted to remind you guys that we’re not to speak about Mutt to them in any way. we get some leeway because we’re family, but you all know the fewer people that know about him the better.”

“Yeah, sure, don’t mind me.” Mutt growled darkly, rolling his skull on the table to hide his face. “I just love not existing. It’s a blast.”

“my second, and last point, is about the breech,” Sans continued, choosing to ignore his younger brother’s dark murmurings. “I don’t doubt the skill of the Guard, but I think we should make it a point to be cautious. nobody should go outside after dark until the surface patrols give the all clear up here, too. Edge, I know you’re an exception to this since you’re part of the patrols, but stick to the property on your days off. Axe - your territory extends beyond the boundaries of the property, but stay where we can keep a lens on you. got it?”

“...I can… take care of myself.” Axe huffed and crossed his arms over his chest.

“-and one of us should keep an eye light on Thyme when she works outside,” Sans continued, like he didn’t hear Axe’s complaint. “while I seriously doubt a Feral could get past the Guard, Axe, and Mutt’s network, I don’t want her outside by herself for the foreseeable future. understand?”

You positively beamed at Sans as he resumed his seat. He might’ve just been doing his duty as the head of house, but you couldn’t help but feel he was also using the breech as an excuse to tell his brothers to keep an eye on you. In one clever, fell swoop he had ensured you wouldn’t be lured away and you didn’t have to try to explain the shadow or the compelling song to anyone else.

“ain’t like yeh teh be paranoid, vanilla,” Red scoffed, using his fork to stab at a puddle of mozzarella that had pooled on his plate from his neglected sandwich.

“IT’S NOT FOR VERY LONG,” Papyrus pointed out. “IT’S VERY UNLIKELY THAT A FERAL COULD ESCAPE THE UNDERGROUND, BUT IT DOESN’T HURT TO BE A LITTLE CAUTIOUS. NOT ALL OF US HAVE OFFENSIVE MAGIC, RED.”

“don’t worry… Lily,” Butch gave you a lopsided smile from across the table. “we won’t let… anything happen to you.”

You returned a smile in earnest, feeling bubbly with joy. With your whole family looking out for you, there was no safer place in the world for you to be.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all for your patience while I worked on this chapter! :D I know it's been awhile since another official update, but I admit I had a bit of writer's block with this. Lots of rewriting and editing to get it to turn out just like I wanted it to....
> 
> If you like, consider following me on insta! I post updates on there, both when new chapters are available and just heads up when things are taking more time than usual. I don't want to leave y'all too much in the dark.
> 
> Have a lovely day and thanks for reading!
> 
> https://www.instagram.com/oolongteacup426/?hl=en


	36. Ch 33 - The Woods

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey, all! I'm writing again! :D Thank you guys so much for your understanding and your encouragement while I took a small break. I really appreciate you all.
> 
> I know I didn't get a chance to reply to all the previous comments, but know that I do read them all and they make me smile. Thank you for taking the time to leave some kind words and, as always, thank you for reading! <3

Ch 33 - The Woods

The mud squelched beneath your boots as you walked with Axe beneath the trees. The warm, spring sun may have dried up the scant puddles around the lawn, but in the shade of the woods everything was still damp and cool. It was nice enough outside that you had left your leather jacket at home, though you still pulled at your purple sweater dress against the lingering chill. Axe’s hand tightened around yours.

“...you’re safe… with me,” he gently reminded you. “...I know you’re… worried, but… these are my woods.” His vacant grin widened as you gave his warm finger bones a squeeze. Birdsong filled the air around you and you briefly wondered if he was confusing it for the sound of your soul. It was hard to be worried under the bright sun and with Axe at your side.

“To be honest, I was a little surprised that you still wanted to take me out here after what Sans said,” you admitted. It wasn’t just the lingering thoughts of that shadow or the song; you remembered Axe’s old warnings to you as well. “I know the animals are usually more scared of us than we are of them, but didn’t you say they were more aggressive because they have little ones?”

“...that was when… they were new,” Axe shrugged. His single, red eye light scanned the woods before settling back on you and the path he led you on. “...they’re a lot… bigger now and… the mothers aren’t as… worried for them.”

“You also said that there were other monsters in the woods,” you pointed out, remembering the time he ran out into the blizzard to chase after something you couldn’t see. At the time you thought he was chasing a memory - you had just learned about his old life and the existence of Ferals - but the longer you lived here the more you realized what else lived around the house. “Sans said there are surface patrols, but you don’t mean members of the Guard, do you?”

Axe shook his skull. “...they bring others… to work on the other side… of the mountain. ...sometimes the workers get lost… and end up here. ...most learn their lesson. ...some don’t.”

“You mean to build the village?” you asked, your eyes wide. Axe nodded. You narrowed your eyes slightly, wondering at how territorial Axe acted towards these strangers. “You’re not too mean to them if they’re just lost, are you?”

“...not if they… leave quietly,” Axe shrugged again. He guided you around a patch of curled up ferns, their unfurled leaves and stems poking out of the ground like question marks, and he tilted his skull at you. “...do you still… want to be out here… with me? ...I want this… to be fun for you and not… make you anxious.”

“Yeah, I’d like to see more of this place,” you nodded. You looked up at the branches spread out above you, smiling at all of the new green that had grown on the once bare trees. Some of the buds had started opening and the first new leaves swayed in the breeze. Brown squirrels chattered above the two of you, running across the high branches as they watched you warily, and you hooked your other hand around the crook of Axe’s arm to hold him close. “I’ve only visited Ebott National Park when I was little and even then I’ve only ever been on the hiking paths. I want to see more of it with you. The secret parts that no one has seen before.”

“...I’d like that,” Axe leaned his skull against your shoulder and you carefully kissed the top of his brow to avoid his jagged scar.

“We should make it a point to do this at least once a week,” you said, letting your walking pace slow to a meander so that you could enjoy his company. Despite your lingering worries of what lurked in the woods, you trusted Axe completely and you knew he would protect you. “If Pap’s letting me borrow the car to go to and from the city, we won’t be able to do our daily walks from the bus stop anymore.”

Axe hummed thoughtfully and you felt his thumb move back and forth over the back of your hand. “...you’ll still… work outside. ...I’ll keep you company.”

“As long as you promise not to eat my plants,” you said and playfully poked his ribs. Axe grinned at you, but made no promises. You glared at him, knowing his game and how he was with food. “I’m serious! I’ll let you have something every now and then but you’ll have to ask before you take anything!”

“...isn’t the point… of growing things… to eat it eventually?”

“Yes, but you have to  _ share _ with  _ everyone _ ,” you said firmly, leaving no space in your wording for misinterpretation. “And at some point I’ll be moving my plant experiments outside and I don’t want anyone touching those for any reason. If I lose even a single plant it’ll throw off my whole data set. That brown one, the one that came back after touching the echo flower, isn’t doing so great again and I can’t figure out why. I even put it in the sun to try and bring it back but that’s not helping.”

“...will you plant… flowers, too? ...in your… garden?” Axe asked, gently guiding you around a fallen tree so that you didn’t slip in the mud. The trunks were starting to get thicker and closer together, to the point you were watching your feet more than your surroundings so that you didn’t accidentally trip on a root. 

“Yeah, I thought about planting some around the house to bring some color to the yard. Did Butch tell you that?” you asked, stepping over a particularly gnarled root. You caught Axe’s nod out of the corner of your eye. A sudden caw from a raven made you jump in fright and you felt Axe stiffen next to you. You both stilled on the path, watching the bird laugh at you from high in the trees, before you relaxed again. Instinctually, you reached for the pocket of your coat, before you remembered you had left it at home.

Axe’s red light didn’t miss the small movement. “...that… reminds me…” he mumbled, fishing into his pocket. He pulled out a small bottle and presented it to you in the palm of his hand.

“My pepper spray!” You exclaimed joyfully, taking the bottle back. “You found it! Thank you so much!”

“...it was… really deep in… the woods,” Axe’s slow, deliberate tone was filled with a firmness that made you squirm. His red eye light fixed on your face and you flushed pink. He added sternly, “...I told you… to not come out here… on your own.”

“I’m sorry,” you mumbled and stared at your muddy boots. “I didn’t mean to wander so far in…”

Axe’s light narrowed into a glare as he considered you. “...I’ll forgive you,” he said, tilting your chin up so you were looking at him, “...if you don’t… do it again and… do one thing… for me.”

“What’s that?”

“...don’t plant… any yellow flowers.” Axe stood on the toes of his muddy, copper slippers to kiss your forehead. “...I don’t like them.”

“Sure,” you mumbled, blinking at the strange request. Axe gently tugged you back into motion to resume your walk. “Wait,” you said, realization hitting you, “why don’t you like yellow flowers…?”

You trailed off, unsure if telling Axe about Flowey was a good idea or not. The little flower monster had helped you already and you had broken your promise by telling Sans about him. Was it breaking it more if you told Axe, too? Pap had already vouched for the little monster…

Axe considered you again. The anxious song of nesting birds in the trees around you made you feel like your own anxiety was being amplified.

“...most monsters…” Axe said slowly, considering his words carefully, “...respect my territory. ...no one gets… another warning. ...I don’t like… playing games with… the safety of my family.”

“Axe, don’t hurt Flowey!” You pulled at Axe’s blue sleeve, stopping him on the muddy trail. From his dislike of those colored blooms, and his vague reminder to you of other monsters, you knew that he knew about Flowey. You also realized that it wasn’t Edge that Flowey had alluded to - it was Axe. Axe’s eye light darted towards your grip on his sleeve and back up to your eyes. “I know he’s here, in your woods, but he helped me the day I lost my pepper spray. He helped me find my way home. I know you’re protective of us and your territory but… please don’t hurt him.”

A scowl chased away Axe’s vacant grin. “...Willow… stay away… from that monster. ...he’s dangerous.”

“I know he’s got more power than he lets on,” you pressed, “but he’s just looking for his lost toy. I don’t think he’s dangerous like that. Pap knows him, too. Flowey’s a little rude, but he comes off more like a spoiled child than some kind of malicious-”

“...no.” Axe growled. He took a step towards you to close the distance between you and your vision was filled with his hard, red eye light and angry scowl. “...I don’t… like him. ...few monsters… can evade me and… Mutt’s cameras. ...and I’ve never met… a monster who… can hide the magic… in their soul. ...I don’t want to… argue with you, Willow… so listen to me… on this. ...I’ve given that monster… plenty of chances… to stay away. ...if I catch him… I’ll dust him.”

You bit your lip and fiddled with the pepper spray in your hands. The last thing you wanted was another argument with Axe now that you had made up… but letting him kill someone just for trespassing was still wrong. From what Flowey said, he had been wandering the property for some time and he had never attacked anyone. He even said himself that he avoided the brothers on principle.

“Can we… compromise on this?” you asked quietly, hopefully. Axe narrowed his eye light at you and crossed his arms over his chest, waiting to hear you out. “I know you don’t want Flowey here, but I don’t like the idea of you hurting anyone like that.”

The Axe you knew was gentle, playful, and at times a little weird. He could be overly protective, you knew that, but the glimpses and stories you heard of his darker, violent side scared you. You trusted that he would never hurt you, but if there was any other way to keep him from using extremes against others… especially now that he didn’t need to do that anymore...

“Could you… if you find him,” you said slowly, trying to think of the best way to meet him halfway, “could you capture him instead? You could let Milord deal with him. Isn’t that his job as Captain - to deal with monsters that break the law? If Flowey is on the surface illegally…”

It could be that Flowey might face a vicious punishment from the Queens if he was caught, but it was better than the thought of Axe using such violence again. What if he lost himself in the act, like when he had fought with Edge? What if he ended up wandering the woods, trapped in his own mind from gaining more EXP, until his brothers had to look for him? What if he had to be restrained by Sans and-

“...if…” Axe grumbled reluctantly, his eye light searching the worry furrowing your brow, “...I can get… Milord to… agree on how… to keep him in check… then fine. ...I’ll capture him. ...but I won’t do it… if I can’t contain him.”

“Thank you,” you said softly. “I worry about you too, you know. I just don’t want you to use violence and lose yourself again. It scares me to think you’d get like that and not have Butch or me around to help you…”

At those words, Axe’s angry expression softened. “...and if you… stay far away… from this Flowey… then I’ll compromise.” He gently cupped your cheek with his hand. “...let’s not… talk about this… anymore. ...I wanted to… have fun today and... show you something good… to make up for… how I acted.”

“You don’t have anything to make up for,” you said, pocketing your pepper spray to take Axe’s hand again as you walked on. Remembering the last time Axe wanted to ‘show you something good’ you added, “But I wouldn’t mind seeing how the owlets have grown up.”

“...this is… better,” Axe grinned, his red light shining at you.

“Is it more birds?” You asked, letting yourself grin, too, as he shook his skull at you to keep you guessing. He remembered that you don’t like heights, but it was a bit disappointing to know that you wouldn’t see any of the songbirds that returned to nest. Many of them had bright, beautiful plumage. “Is it… the deer herd? I remember you telling Butch that they moved through this area now and then.”

“...I’m not going to… spoil the surprise.” Axe poked you playfully in the arm and his grin widened.

That did not deter you from guessing. As you walked on, deeper and deeper into the forest, you listed every single animal you could think of that lived in the woods that could be a possibility. Axe wasn’t even entertaining you with a nod or shake of his skull as you guessed foxes, bats, muskrats, beavers, rabbits, and even a badger.

“Oh come on!” you huffed, pretending to be irritated. “Give me a little hint! Just one!”

“...nope.” Axe let out a tumbling chuckle and pulled you to a stop just outside of a small, sunny forest clearing. “...we’re here, though. ...you can see… for yourself.”

“I don’t see anything?” You stood on your toes, looking over the top of his skull expectantly at the bright, grassy hollow between the dense trees. Axe tugged on your arm to catch your attention and pulled you close to him.

“...there are… rules for this one,” he said to you, his hands pulling you against him by your waist. “...first,” he whispered in your ear, gently nipping at your lobe, “...you need to… do exactly… what I say. ...the alpha likes me… but she doesn’t know you.”

“What alpha?” you asked, feeling a stirring of hot jealousy. Axe’s vacant grin widened and he nuzzled his face against your cheek and neck. His lack of answer only fanned that feeling in your chest. You wondered now if he was showing you an animal at all. What if it was a monster friend that lived outside of his territory?

“...second,” he mumbled as he bit at your soft spot, “...is that you need to… wear my mark. ...so they know… you’re my mate.”

He pressed his body into you and forced you to backpedal against the trunk of a tree. You grabbed the front of his hoodie and pulled him into a kiss. His eye light widened with surprise as you eagerly sought his mark, the taste of iron on his red tongue, as the jealousy in your chest flared at the thought of another alpha. This was  _ your _ beta and, monster or not, dammit they were going to respect that!

“...what’s gotten… into you?” Axe smirked, tilting his skull to the side as you trailed kisses along his jaw and down his neck vertebrae. “...are you… going into he-aah!”

Axe let out a cry of delight as you sank your teeth into his neck, not caring if the mark was visible or if the little protruding nubs of bone cut your gums. He grabbed your wrists and pinned them above your head, scraping your knuckles against the rough bark. You pulled away from his neck to see his red light had hazed. He ground his hips hard against yours, his teeth hovering over your lips as he panted against you.

“...what do you… want?” he asked, his breath hot on your face and his tone a low rumble. “...my surprise… or… for me to… take care of you?”

“I want that alpha to know you’re  _ mine. _ ” you growled. It had made you upset when you thought of Sans, who wasn’t marked by you, with another female. But the thought of another alpha going after one of your betas (especially when Axe already admitted she liked him) was enough to drive you a little nuts.

A gentle rumble shook Axe’s ribs as he purred. “...and you’re… mine,” he mumbled, allowing you to have a kiss. He tangled his dexterous tongue around yours, until all you could taste was metal, before he let you go. He took your hand in his and backed off a few steps to pull you along. “...let’s show her… who I belong to.”

“Damn straight,” you grumbled to yourself, then instantly felt guilty for the ugly jealousy writhing in your chest like an eel. You got upset with the others when they let their jealousy get the better of them. How were you any better, with how you just acted? Sans was right. You really were a hypocrite.

Axe shushed your noise with a finger to his teeth. He pulled you further into the clearing and into the warm rays of the sun. He sat you at the center on the soft, new grass and dandelions and whispered for you to wait there.

“...don’t be scared,” he added in hushed tones. “...I won’t let anything… happen to you… but she needs… to approve of you… before the others come. …so just sit still.”

You nodded and settled cross legged on the ground. Axe left you and moved towards an oak tree on the edge of the clearing. It had fallen over only halfway - it’s roots, still covered in dirt and hanging like a gnarled curtain, were the only thing keeping it from falling completely. Axe stopped several feet from this tree and sat on his haunches. You tilted your head in confusion as Axe started drumming his hands on the ground. It was a gentle, lilting beat that had long pauses before he repeated it again.

He had just started to drum again when you saw the shadows stir beyond the roots. You sucked in a breath and held it, your heart pounding in your chest, as a huge grey wolf emerged from the den and into the sunlight. 

The she-wolf was bigger than any pet dog you had ever seen, and many times more beautiful. Silver fur covered her belly and neck, while dark, charcoal grey covered her back and head. Black tipped her perked ears and the tip of her bushy tail. Axe smiled at her and sat completely still as she slowly approached him. Her bright, yellow eyes darted between you and Axe and her black nose twitched as she smelled the air around him. She paused, snuffing at Axe’s skull and hoodie. Her grey tail was held out high behind her.

The wolf circled Axe once before her tail lowered and lost some of its poofiness. It wagged twice to the right and she focused her yellow eyes on you. Her lips lifted in a silent growl and her tail stiffened straight out behind her. Her pointed ears turned back towards the tree and twitched. Something there caused her to turn her head back, to check her den, before her giant paws silently made their way towards you.

Axe had told you not to be afraid, but you couldn’t help the blood rushing in your ears or the pounding of your heart as the massive she-wolf approached you. She circled you from a distance, her hackles slightly raised and her nose twitching. Despite the slight spring chill you felt yourself beginning to sweat. You glanced at Axe, your eyes wide with fear as the she-wolf finally came close and you felt her hot breath on your face as she smelled you.

“...lie down,” you heard Axe say as though from a distance. Your head was starting to spin a bit from holding your breath. You didn’t want to lie down and expose your belly to the long, white fangs the wolf was barring at you. The only thing you could do was sit, frozen, hunched in a ball as you waited for the wolf to go away.

Axe slowly got to his feet and came over to you. The wolf backed away, her yellow eyes darting between you and him. Axe gently helped you lie down and laid himself over your stomach, watching the wolf with his steady, red light. She perked her ears up at him and her bristling fur softened slightly. She approached again, her tail low, and sniffed between the two of you. She gave another wag to the right, her tail and hackles smooth once more, and returned to the entrance of her den.

“...she likes you,” Axe grinned, his red light shining at you. You finally let out the breath you had been holding as Axe climbed off you and chased after the she-wolf.

“Axe, wait-!” you squeaked, still fearful of the grey wolf as she laid in the sun. She didn’t seem to mind Axe approaching her den, or drumming eagerly on the ground again, but her yellow eyes watched you with an intensity that made you want to bolt.

Because of your fear, you were not prepared for the high yips of excitement as a group of puppies barreled from the den to tackle Axe. Their joyful barks and Axe’s tumbling laugh filled the clearing as he was knocked onto his back from the little furballs. The she-wolf gave a low growl of warning to her pups as they crawled over each other, licking Axe’s skull in excitement and wagging their tails so hard their little bodies wiggled along.

You sat up, your eyes wide, as you counted four pups tumbling out into the clearing. One crawled on top of their mother, to try and pull at her ears. Two grabbed at Axe’s blue hoodie and started a game of tug of war. One, whose coat was a little bit darker than the others, turned their yellow eyes on you and raised their tail high. You waited as the pup watched you, curious, before it slowly approached with a twitching black nose. 

Their mother, though she looked irritated by the pup pulling at her ear, watched you expectantly.

The dark pup was within your reach, but you sat very still and waited for him to come to you. He gave a sudden yip that made you jump in surprise, then splayed his paws out on the ground and stuck his butt, and his wagging tail, in the air.

“...he wants… to play.” Axe translated, rolling onto his stomach to watch you and to let the two pups crawling on him wrestle over his back. One of them, mostly silver and slightly bigger than the other one, who had half a black mask on their fuzzy face, growled playfully as they fought for the right to sit on top of Axe.

You glanced nervously at the she-wolf and her unwavering gaze, then slowly reached out and drummed on the ground just like Axe had done. The dark pup gave a yip of excitement and ran circles around you, pouncing back and forth like he wanted you to chase him. You weren’t sure of what to do. He was clearly a puppy, but he was still bigger than most small dogs. You plucked a long-stemmed dandelion and waved the yellow flower at him. The pup, excited, tripped over his own paws as he snapped his baby fangs at the make-shift toy. You smiled brightly, looking at Axe. He mirrored your excited expression.

“Go on, get it,” you gently encouraged the dark pup, waving the flower just out of reach so that he rolled and jumped to try and catch the toy. The other two pups, the ones that had been wrestling on Axe, saw the game their brother played and raced over to join. They tackled you back to the ground and you let out a laugh of delighted surprise as the mostly silver one licked your face. The dark pup took his chance and grabbed the dandelion from your hand and shook it. The one with the half mask, disappointed that she missed out on the game, grabbed at the cuff of your sleeve and tugged at it.

“I think they like me,” you giggled as Axe made his way back to you. He laid in the grass next to you and teased Half-mask away from your dress with his own sleeve. The she-wolf, tired of the smallest pup tugging at her ear, nipped at the pup’s tail and sent it to join its siblings. She laid her head upon her massive paws, seemingly at rest, though she kept her yellow eyes fixed on her pups and the visitors.

“...I thought… you’d like this.” Axe grinned and picked up Half-mask, holding her up in the air and teasing her with a game of airplane. “...I wanted to show you… the pups since they… were born but… she was too… protective of them.” He nodded at the she-wolf and her watchful gaze.

Dark barked at you, splaying his paws to show he wanted to play more despite the dandelion stuck in his teeth. You picked another one and waved it over him, giggling as Silver joined her brother in trying to catch the flower. The smallest one lingered on the outskirts, too shy to approach. He laid on the sun warmed ground, a tiny mirror of his mother, and ate grass as he watched.

“Axe,” you grinned, falling back onto the ground as the two pups you played with tackled you again. “This is the coolest thing I’ve ever done. Ever. How did you get them to trust you so much?”

“...I help them… with hunts,” Axe shrugged, letting Half-mask chew on his hand. It didn’t seem to hurt Axe any, but he still grabbed Half-mask by the top of the snout and gently wrestled her to the ground. “...and keeping their… territory. ...I helped… their alpha… find this den. ...but she wouldn’t… let me near it… when the pups were born. ...I bring gifts, too… sometimes.”

“Gifts?” you asked, pulling your hair away from Dark as he tried to use it as a toy.

“...rabbits… gophers…” Axe ticked the list off on his fingers before Half-mask took his hand back to play. “...small things… to help when… they’re hungry.”

“Oh, so you help the-ah!” you yelped with surprise as Silver sank her baby fangs into your hand. Axe immediately rolled over you and gave her a low, rumbling growl. Silver tucked her tail between her legs and rolled onto her back, presenting her belly and neck to him. The she-wolf raised her head, her ears forward, and only lowered it back onto her paws when Axe lowered himself back to the dirt at your side. Silver rolled onto her belly, whined, and licked at your hand to apologize for being too rough. Dark bounced over and bit at his sister’s tail, enticing her into a game of chase, and they sped off in circles around the clearing with a chorus of yips and barks.

“...are you… okay?” Axe asked, taking your hand and eyeing the tiny droplets of blood welling up from the small punctures.

“I’m fine, it just surprised me,” you nodded. His red eye light narrowed at you, at the wound, and his red tongue darted out to lick it clean. You giggled at him and gave his hand a squeeze. “I’ll just have to wash it once we get home and keep an eye on it. She’s just a puppy; she didn’t mean to. What about you?” you asked, pointing at Half-mask. She had settled on top of Axe’s chest and was happily chewing away at his hand.

“...it doesn’t… hurt.” Axe shrugged and grabbed the top of her snout again, rolling her from side to side as she let out a playful growl. “...they’re too little… to do any damage. ...even the adults... can't draw dust... from me.”

You nodded, watching as Smallest shyly started to come over to you and Axe, but hesitated before he came too close. You laid back on the dirt, scooted close to Axe, and rested your head on his shoulder. He moved his free arm beneath your neck and held your shoulders while you stared up at the sky.

“Thank you for this,” you said quietly, turning your head to watch him gently play with the puppy on his chest. He grinned at you, his eye light soft, before he leaned in and placed a small skeleton kiss on your cheek.

“...I knew… they’d like you,” Axe said, watching as Smallest finally worked up his courage to approach you. He sniffed at your purple dress, his tail low and wagging nervously, before he decided you were okay and curled up at your side. You rested your arm around him and gently pet his course, grey fur. “...animals can… always sense pure souls. ...it took them… a long time… to trust me.”

“I’m kind of surprised you like wolves,” you admitted. You scratched behind Smallest’s ears and he sighed happily, stretching out at your side so you could pay attention to his belly, too. “I don’t mean this to sound weird, but you’re made of bones and don’t dogs like to chew on them?”

You nodded to Half-mask who had, once again, started to chew on Axe’s finger bones. Axe let out a slow, tumbling chuckle and let the pup have her fun. “...I let the little ones… do this. ...the bigger ones… learned really quick… that I’m not… a chew toy.”

“I’m just surprised they’re not marking you at all,” you said, turning your attention to Silver and Dark. Silver, who was bigger than her brother, had finally caught him and pinned him beneath her. They pretended to snarl at each other as Dark fought to regain dominance over his sister.

“...they don’t have… the intent.” Axe rolled Half-mask onto her side and settled her between your bodies; calming her restless wiggles with a gentle belly rub. “...they’re not… like us, Willow. ...we mark… with intent. ...they’re animals and… use other means.”

“Right…” you mumbled, trailing off as you spotted the teeth marks you had left on Axe’s neck. You shifted slightly, feeling guilty again. “Hey, Axe… I’m sorry for marking you like that.”

“...what do you… mean?” Axe looked up from the two sleepy puppies, his red light shining curiously at you.

“I mean your second mark.” You gestured at his neck and felt yourself turn pink under his gaze. “I already marked you once, and I feel really stupid now but… when you mentioned an alpha I didn’t think you were talking about a wolf. I thought you meant a female monster and I… got really jealous and… kind of possessive of you. I’m sorry.”

“...why are you sorry?”

“Because I don’t like it when you and your brothers get like that!” you huffed, slightly frustrated that he didn’t seem upset at all. “Jealousy to the point of possessiveness isn’t healthy in a relationship and I let myself get possessive of you at just the thought of someone else being interested in you…”

“...I don’t know… about that.” Axe squeezed your shoulder and you turned to look at the grin on his skull. “...if I had… another alpha interested… in me and… you didn’t get… a little jealous… I might… be upset. ...I would think… you didn’t care.”

“But I  _ do _ care!” You carefully picked up Smallest and rolled onto your side, so you were facing Axe, and settled the tiny pup next to his dozing sister. “I just feel like if I get jealous like that it means I’m insecure in our relationship and I don’t want to be like that.”

“...maybe it’s okay… to be a little jealous,” Axe said thoughtfully. “...it shows… you care, but… letting it go… too far… isn’t good. ...I know my brothers… can get really jealous… because we’re all… competing for your attention. ...but you work so hard… so make us feel secure… we don’t need to be… jealous of each other. ...though if… a new male… showed interest in you… I’m sure… we’d get protective… of you. ...take Mutt and me… as an example. ...when you first… marked us… we both… wanted to be… your favorite. ...but you don’t have favorites… and take time to let us know… we’re wanted. ...so even though… our pack has grown… and you want more betas… we know… you’ll still make time for us. ...we know… we’re loved.”

The she-wolf, unable to see her two pups between you, got up from her spot near the den and quietly padded her way over. She settled her massive body near Axe, her head near his skull, and eyed her sleeping pups before resting her head on her paws. She didn’t shut her yellow eyes, but they were half-lidded and showed you that she was much more comfortable with your presence than when you first arrived.

“I just…” you mumbled, unsure of how to go about the subject, but knowing that at some point you needed to. “I realized recently with our kind of relationship, being polyamorous… it goes both ways. You guys share me as the alpha but it’s… really hard for me to think of sharing you guys, too.”

Axe hummed thoughtfully and his thumb drifted over your shoulder, scrunching the material. “...our pack… is different. ...your betas… are all related. ...we don’t do anything… with each other… so that leaves you… as the only source… of intimacy for us. …I’ve been in packs before… with other alphas… who’s betas would care for each other… at times. ...the alpha was… usually okay with… that, but… usually… betas don’t share… their time with the alpha. ...since we took your mark… we’re committed to only you. ...does that make sense?”

“So you’re saying,” you said slowly, trying to understand the explanation, “If another alpha has two betas that aren’t related, it’s more of a relationship between the three of them, rather than how it is with us, were it’s more like I’m in multiple relationships and you’re all in one?”

Axe nodded. “...you don’t… share us… and we don’t mind. ...as the alpha you can… choose your betas, but… you also have the… responsibility to… keep harmony if… you want to keep us. ...but you’re unlike other alphas. ...you’re different in that… you talk to us… about what we want… and who you want to… bring in. ...other alphas… don’t do that. ...they mark… who they want and… if a beta doesn’t like their alpha’s choices… they just leave and… find a new pack. ...I’ve done that… before. ...many times.”

“You mean your exes?” you asked, unable to help but feel curious about Axe’s past relationships. You had only heard of one brother’s past alpha - Milord’s - and knew she was a demanding, high-maintenance woman. Axe was so laid back, what would an alpha have to do to make him leave? Unless, you thought as you considered your first fight with him, it had something to do with Butch.

Axe nodded. “...if you… ask me, the way… you do things… makes it easy… to be your beta. ...usually it’s… our job to… care for you but… you do so much… to care for us, too. ...you changed what it means… to be an alpha… and made it harder for yourself… so your betas… would be happier.”

The other two pups, Silver and Dark, trotted over as they tired of their wrestling game. They climbed on top of you and Axe, to join Half-mask and Smallest in a cuddle pile. They gave small sighs of contentment as the ball of furry bodies grew bigger with the added siblings. The She-wolf, now that her pups had all settled in for naps, finally closed her yellow eyes and let out a huff of relief. You scooted closer to the pups and Axe. Their warmth was a balm against the chill of spring now that you all had stilled, and Axe nuzzled the side of your head affectionately as you wriggled your arm around his shoulders.

“...I’m… really grateful… I found you,” Axe said softly, his forehead resting against yours as he watched the pups sleep between you. “...I stopped looking… for an alpha… after I found Butch. ...none of them… would care for… a kid that wasn’t theirs. ...but you didn’t care… if he was yours. ...if any of us… were yours. ...marked or… otherwise. ...you kept your promises… and provided for us… without asking… for anything. ...you never gave up on us… even when things… get hard ...and I think… you’re the one… I’ve been looking for… all this time.”

“What do you mean?” you asked, blinking up at Axe as he turned his red light on you. It softened as he held your gaze, the color starting to haze ever so slightly around the edges of the light.

“...back before… I found Butch…” Axe said quietly, turning his gaze back on the pups, “...I wanted to find… someone like…” he hesitated, his brow furrowing as he tried to find the right words. “ ...I always wanted… a big family and… I never imagined I’d… find Butch or… get so many… other brothers. ...but that’s still… not quite what I wanted.”

“What did you want?” You felt Axe shift slightly beneath you and felt the skull heat up as the beginnings of a red flush crept across his nasal ridge. The pups between you gave sleepy whines of protest at the small movement until Axe settled again.

“...I never stayed… with an alpha… for very long,” Axe mumbled, turning his skull up towards the sky to hide his color from you. “...they always lacked… something I looked for. ...but I think… you have it and… I’m… really nervous… to be sure. ...especially since… we haven’t been together… for very long. ...it’s been two months… since you marked me but… it feels like so much… longer and…”

“You can ask me anything,” you said gently, placing your hand on his chest to stop his nervous rambling. He must be anxious if the shortness of breath you felt was anything to go by. “You know that, right?”

“...would…” Axe opened and closed his jaw, frowning as the words refused to come. He opened and closed his hand into a fist and fidgeted with the cloth on your shoulder. “...would you… ever… want this?” he gestured to the puppies sleeping between you.

“Puppies?” You raised your eyebrow at him. “I don’t mind pets, but I don’t think Milord would allow-”

“...not that!” Axe growled in frustration and rolled onto his side. He stared down at you, his skull flushed red, and the she-wolf perked her head up at the sudden movement. “...I mean… a family. ...with me.”

“Oh!” Your eyes widened with realization. He was asking if you wanted kids.

“...it’s… really important… to me,” Axe said softly, withdrawing ever so slightly at your silence. “...I know… this is… too soon, but…”

“No, it’s okay,” you stopped him with a hand on his shoulder and turned him back towards you. Axe’s eye light lit up brightly and he smiled nervously as you thought. “It’s okay to ask that. Especially if that’s something you want someday. It’s important for people in a relationship to discuss their future together. If that’s something you want, I’m glad we’re talking about it.”

“...so… do you?” Axe asked, tilting his skull at you.

You bit your lip and considered your words carefully. “Whenever I pictured myself as an old woman, I always imagined myself surrounded by family. I never thought I’d be so welcomed into the Gaster family. I… like the idea of our family growing but… there are a lot of things we don’t know. Later on, when we’re in a good place to try for something like that… do you even think we’d be able to breed? You’re a monster and I’m human and there’s no guarantee that’ll work out and if it doesn’t… would you still stay with me regardless?”

The question seemed to catch Axe off guard. The color left his skull and he settled back onto the ground, watching you as he thought.

“...yes.” Axe smiled at you and rested his hand on your hip, giving it a squeeze. “...even if… we can’t have our own… we could… adopt. ...there are plenty… of kids in the Underground… who need parents.”

“Humans, too,” you giggled, feeling elated that this wasn’t a deal breaker for him. “I’d be happy to adopt with you and the others. I think we should do that even if we’re able to have our own.”

“...so… does that mean…?”

“Yes, I want kids someday,” you nodded, watching as Axe’s smile doubled in size and his eye light shined with excitement. “But I do mean someday far in the future. I want our pack to be stable, first and foremost, and I want to finish school. It would be nice, too, to have my career established before we have kids. And the rest of the pack needs to agree on this, too. Kids need a lot of time and care and it might be a little easier, with everyone taking care of them, but…” you froze, realizing something, “Axe,” you turned to him and he raised a bony brow in confusion. “If we ever do decide to try for one of our own, how would I ever decide between any of you? I know this means a lot to you but I can’t just pick you over the rest or the others might think I’m playing favorites. I don’t want you guys arguing over it or-”

“...you might not… have to,” Axe grinned mischievously and squeezed your hip. “...it might be… whoever notices… your heat first… and gets to go… into rut first.”

“Wait, what’s rut?” you asked.

“...the male… equivalent of heat,” Axe shrugged. “...we can’t… go into rut… unless our female… is in heat. ...how else… do you breed?” Axe asked, tilting his skull curiously at you. “...do humans… not get that?”

“Um, no,” you shifted uncomfortably, remembering the very brief explanation Axe had given you about monster females and heat cycles when you had your first period at the house. He had never mentioned males and rut, but why would he? You had only been asking about what happened to their females. You did, however, remember Milord warning you that there was the slight possibility of you getting pregnant if you allowed a claim during your heat. Had he been warning you about that? “I think… if we’re going to talk more about kids… we should have the whole pack there. I have some questions that everyone should weigh in on.”

“...did I not… explain it well?” Axe asked.

You shrugged. “I mean… there’s a lot I don’t get about your guys’ biology and I just think it would help if we discussed these things. I remember how you and Butch acted when I told you I went into heat every month. If that scared you, because of how your females are, I can’t imagine what you guys are like in rut…” A small sigh escaped you as you considered other possibilities. Like the fact that your scent drew them to you during that time. “Maybe we should talk about birth control options. I don’t want any accidents.”

“...how does… that work?” Axe’s eye light flickered as he contemplated the subject. “...if you don’t… want kids… you don’t breed and… you can’t breed… unless-”

“I know, I know it’s supposed to be safe when I’m not in heat,” you scooted closer to Axe, squishing the pile of puppies between you, and shivering as a cold, wet nose touched your neck. “Let’s just have a pack meeting to talk about this when Milord gets home, okay? I know we’re okay with kids, but we should ask the others about it, too. It might not be something that happens soon, but maybe some of the others need time to think about it.”

“...okay.” Axe rested his head against yours and let the subject drop for now. That didn’t stop him from smiling as he closed his sockets, happy that you were willing to give him a bigger family. You both laid there for a while, enjoying each other’s company and the warmth of the wolves around you. You listened to the birdsong around you, contemplating your thoughts, while Axe’s breathing deepened.

“Hey, Axe, can I ask you something?” you asked after a long silence. He cracked open his good socket and gave you an inquisitive stare. “I’m curious… I know your life was hard in District 4… so how did you become such a family man? Was it just because you found Butch?”

The more you thought about it, the less it made sense. The Ruins were the kind of place ruled by fear and paranoia. Ferals and criminals that Queen Slians had taken in lived there and an environment like that didn’t exactly encourage family values. If anything, it would’ve made more sense if Axe had turned out more like Red or Edge - the kind of guy who knew it was better to look after yourself or maybe one other and everyone else be damned. How did such a hard life, where you had to fight for every meal and usually went to sleep hungry, make such a playful, gentle, weird guy?

And Axe had mentioned being abandoned. Not just by his mother, initially, but again by another caregiver. If he had developed abandonment issues, that would prevent him from developing deep bonds without long periods of time to create trust. He had bonded with you right away. Sure, there was the fact that your souls remembered each other over the timelines to consider, but his overprotectiveness couldn’t be explained by that.

“...it wasn’t just… because of Butch.” Axe nuzzled his face into your hair and drew you as close as he could while still being considerate of the sleeping puppies. “...I think… I can thank… Tori for that. ...she taught me… a lot of things… but mostly that… family is… the most important.”

Something clicked in your mind from hearing that name again. “You don’t mean Queen Toriel?” you gasped.

Axe chuckled. “...I didn’t know… she was a Queen… when I knew her.” He sighed into your hair and his fingers found a lock to twirl between his bony digits. “...I don’t remember… everything since…” he shrugged one of his shoulders up towards the jagged scar on his skull, “...but I remember… she was always… very kind to me. ...I don’t know why… my brothers dislike the Queens… so much. ...she found me… outside the gate when… I was just a baby bones… and took me in… like I was her own. ...she taught me everything. ...how to… use my magic and… read and write. ...she taught me how to speak and… kept me safe and fed. ...I wasn’t allowed… to leave our home… but she always told me… it was to keep me safe.”

You nodded. That explained how Axe knew how to write, if a Queen had given him an education while growing up. No doubt he had taught Butch everything he learned, too. It also explained why Axe had confined Butch to their old house. If hiding had kept Axe safe when he was young, why wouldn’t it work again?

“...she would… get sad a lot,” Axe kept going, unaware of your thoughts. “...when she thought… I wasn’t looking. … but she always said… I was her reason… her child. ...I gave her… purpose. ...I didn’t understand… when I was little, but… after I found Butch… I did. ...he gave me… reason, too.”

“But… you said she abandoned you?” you asked gently, remembering that single fact Axe had said when you had your argument. Was it something he misspoke simply out of anger?

Axe nodded, confirming your spoken question wordlessly. “...I don’t… completely understand… why. …I just remember… Slians came one day… to see us when... I was a kid. ...she and Tori argued and… I got scared and hid. ...Slians was… talking about me… being a… a replacement?” Axe tilted his skull and scratched at the hole there, trying to recall something he couldn’t quite remember. “...Tori said she wouldn’t… let me go but… Slians said… I was like… the old one. ...and if I paired with… the one Cinn had found… we could work together… and be just like the one… they lost. ...then that night… Tori blindfolded me… and took me deep into… District 4. ...I didn’t know where… I was and… when I tried to follow her home…” Axe trailed off. He glanced at you with a wavering, red eye light before softly adding, “...she… used her fire magic… to scare me away. ...I ran and hid… and I couldn’t find… my way back. ...I was alone… from then on… until I found Butch.”

“Do you think she was trying to protect you from something?” you asked quietly, turning your head so that your forehead rested against his bony brow. Axe shrugged.

“...I don’t… remember it all.” His red light flickered sadly and you took his hand away from his scar to keep him from picking at it. He squeezed your fingers gratefully and offered you a vacant half-smile. “...ever since… my accident… I only have… bits and pieces. ...I needed Butch… to remind me of… so much of our life together. ...I just remember… that to Tori… family was everything. ...and I carried that, too. ...I remembered the feeling… of a warm home and… being loved. ...I wanted that again. ...always. ...so… when I found Butch… I… fought my first instinct to…” Axe grew quiet and didn’t finish that sentence. “...I chose instead to… give him what I remembered. ...that feeling of… being loved and safe. ...I gave everything I had… of myself to bring back… just that small piece… that I remembered. ...and in return… he helped me… not feel alone anymore.”

You awkwardly hugged Axe over the pups nestled between you and kissed his cheekbone. “You know, I think you’ll make a wonderful dad someday,” you whispered to the side of his skull. You felt the bone beneath your cheek warm and Axe tightened his hold on you. “I mean it. Butch is the most gentle soul I know and you helped make him that way. When we do get to a good enough place to start a family, I know you’ll do wonderfully.”

Axe tilted your chin so you faced him, and was just about to kiss you, when a low howl reached the clearing and he froze. The she-wolf lifted her massive, grey head. Her pointed ears swiveling to catch the sound. The four puppies squirmed beneath you as they woke and Half-mask climbed on top of Axe. She yipped as the howl sounded again and Axe quickly got to his feet.

“...we… need to go,” he said, gently extracting you from the mass of wolf pups. “...the rest are… done hunting and… I don’t want you around… the alpha’s beta. ...he gets… really aggressive.”

“You mean the alpha?” you asked, letting Axe pull you from the warm, sunny clearing and back into the cool shade of the trees. Axe shook his skull and tugged your arm to get you to move faster.

When Axe deemed you were far enough away from the she-wolf and her pups, he pulled you in close and you felt an all encompassing pressure. The darkness from his shortcut stopped almost as quickly as it started. You shook your head, orienting yourself as the smell of iron lingered in your nostrils.

“...no,” Axe said, gently guiding you to sit on a tree root of a massive willow tree. “...I mean… the beta.” 

You gratefully accepted the seat, even if the wood was still a little damp, and turned your head to take in your surroundings. The willow Axe had taken you to had to be taller than the house. It’s long, waving branches surrounded you like a living curtain and you could hear the burbling of a river just out of sight.

“I understand what you mean,” you said to Axe, looking up in wonder at the beautiful, new space. “But when humans talk about wolves, the lead male is called an alpha, too. Not just the female.”

“...isn’t that… confusing?” Axe asked and took a seat next to you. You giggled at the furrow of his brow as he tried to understand that an alpha, to you, could be both male and female.

“I was confused when you guys first explained to me what an alpha meant to you,” you smiled and took his hand, intertwining your fingers as you rested your head on Axe’s shoulder. “Humans usually refer to alphas as males. Like an alpha male is considered a dominant male, while a beta is a male who’s more submissive. At least, that’s how I think it is.”

“...that’s… really backwards.” Axe shook his skull and chuckled at you. “...I’m not… submissive to anyone… except my alpha, but I’m… a beta. ...a beta is… any male who… is marked by an alpha.”

“So what do you call a male in a same gendered relationship?” you asked, curious. “Like if a beta, a male, led a pack?”

“...don’t know.” Axe shrugged. “...I’ve only ever been… interested in females. ...you could… ask Mutt, though. ...I know… he’s more fluid… with his preferences.”

“You didn’t find this out through bragging, did you?” You narrowed your gaze slightly, watching Axe out of the corner of your eyes. 

He grinned mischievously at you in response. “...not bragging… if we’re just… exchanging tips.”

“You little devil!” you gave Axe a playful shove as he cackled at your reddening face. “Those things we do together are private!”

“...but we weren’t… bragging!” Axe laughed, jumping from his seat as you tried to pull his hood over his skull. “...Mutt has… good tips on claiming… but even he… admits I’m better… at foreplay.”

Your face turned brick red as Axe wiggled his fingers at you, daring you to chase him as he teased you with the suggestive movement. You jumped up from your seat, in the mood to comply and show him who’s boss by pulling his hood over his lewd smirk.

“...why are you… mad?” Axe laughed, easily sidestepping your lunge as you slid in the mud. “...even Butch… has asked me… for tips.”

“Don’t you dare make him uncomfortable!” you snapped. Your frustration was mounting as Axe continued to evade you almost effortlessly. His tumbling laugh echoed among the bowing branches and he gave you a small, playful shove to keep you chasing him.

“...you said,” he quoted, his red eye light flashing with amusement, “...that I could… answer his questions… about pack stuff and… that, to me, includes… claiming you. ...he asked for advice.”

“Axe Gaster get your ass over here and let me push you in the mud!” you barked, slipping again as Axe twirled out of your grasp. “I told you Butch and I were going at our own pace!”

“...and he wants… to do more.” Axe shrugged. You slipped again in the mud and he caught you as you fell, but twirled you into his embrace so that your arms were pinned and you were helpless in his grasp. He grinned at the side of your face, his red light shining again. “...I keep telling him… to just go for it. ...I told him… you like a male… who knows what he wants.”

“I appreciate a male who  _ communicates _ what he wants!” you growled, squirming as Axe let one of his hands fall to your thigh and slip up beneath your dress.

“...then I want… to make you mine,” Axe growled in your ear. The desire to shove him into the mud warred with what he was starting to coax into you by teasing the high lining of your socks. “...I’ve loved you… for so long.”

“I love you too, Axe,” you said, then gasped in surprise as he turned you, caught your lips, and tangled his tongue with yours. You sighed into him, the small bit of your playful irritation forgotten as you got lost in the taste of iron. Reality came snapping back as he trailed his fingers up your thigh, towards the building want he was fanning into you.

“...I can be… very patient,” he purred, biting at your neck while he gently clawed at your back. “...but now that… I know… you’re everything I’ve looked for… I don’t want… to hold back anymore.”

“Wait,” you grabbed his wrist and stopped the touch between your legs. “We’re outside. What if someone sees us?”

“...like who?” Axe tilted his skull and looked over his shoulder at the river. “...the ferryman… doesn’t come around… this time of day. ...no one is here… but us. ...unless… you count… a bunch of birds.”

“What about Mutt’s cameras?” you asked, looking up towards the high branches of the willow tree.

Axe smirked mischievously and pointed towards the other side of the river with his thumb. “...that’s the… property line.” He gently leaned into you, pushing you back towards the trunk of the tree and into the slight privacy the curtain of swaying branches provided. “...I brought us… just outside of it… on purpose. ...don’t forget that… I helped place… all of Mutt’s cameras. …I know where… all of them are.”

“But… the ground’s kind of muddy,” you pointed out. A small squeak escaped you as he backed you against the tree.

“...then we won’t… lay on the ground,” he smirked. His hands ran down your arms until he found your wrists and he pinned them above your head. “...I don’t… want to bring you back… to the house for this. ...I want to hear… every noise you make… when I make you feel good.”

“You’ll let me take care of you this time, right?” you asked, knowing that he was referring to your first intimate moment - where he had ‘taken care of you’ on the couch. He had to keep you quiet to keep the others from noticing.

“...eventually.” Axe grinned devilishly and flicked his wrist out to the side. You smelled iron and heard the groan of the tree as something split the wood above your head. You looked up, startled by the noise, to see a trio of red bones had appeared. One protruded from the bark between your wrists, and two others crossed over to lock your hands into place. Axe noticed your widening eyes and gently caressed your jawline with the back of his knuckle.

“...now that… I’ve caught you…” he hummed, coming in close to pepper your cheek with kisses, “...I want to… take my time. ...you seemed… to like being pinned... before and this keeps… my hands free.”

Your heart pounded a tattoo against your ribs as Axe returned his attention to your neck. He nipped at your soft spot while his hands wandered over your waist, tracing the outer contours of your body and sparking heat in your belly.

“You’re not-” your breath hitched as he gave you a particularly rough bite and coaxed a small moan from you. “You’re not,” you breathed, squirming against the restraints, “like a… a closet sadist, are you?”

“...no.” Axe turned his hazed light towards your face and kissed your cheek again. “...I don’t want… to hurt you. ...just to… make you feel good. ...I’ll stop… if you want… but I like… doing this.”

“But I can’t-” you paused as Axe turned your face towards his, to kiss you deeply and steal the words from your mouth with his dancing tongue. His hands made their way under your dress. One tickled the inside of your thigh and the other slowly made its way up towards your heaving chest. When he broke the kiss, to find your soft spot and coax more moans from you, you added breathily, “I want to touch you, too.”

“...you will.” Axe smiled and teased the sensitivity of your breast. You bit your lip and arched your back, craving more touch. A rush of adrenaline ran alongside your desire from doing this outside even though you knew you both were alone. “...I can’t maintain… my summons if… I get too excited. ...once I have my fun… and take care of you… I’ll take my turn… and claim you.” He leaned in, his breath hot on your ear, as his low voice rumbled, “...but only… if you beg for it. ...I liked… hearing that… last time.”

You nodded, giving him silent consent to do what he liked. You already knew he would respect you if you told him to stop, he had done that last time when you got too nervous from the new intimacy. This time, however, he wasn’t sitting on you and pinning you completely. You wrapped your legs around him, pulling him into you as you chased his neck vertebrae with your own bites. You didn’t need your hands to tease him back. 

Axe drew in a small hiss of breath in surprise. You sucked at the sight of his new mark, tracing the contours of your bite with your tongue. You shifted your legs’ grip on him, to keep your own weight from hurting your wrists, by latching onto the space over his pelvis where you could rest yourself. He grabbed your chin and turned your face towards his, his red light hazed to the point it faded into the black of his socket.

“...that’s… not how… this works.” Axe grinned evilly, hovering just over your lips, as his fingers crawled up your thigh. He started to trace the contours of your entrance. The touch strayed close to your sensitive spots, but not directly on them. You whined with impatience and tilted your hips into him, wanting just a bit more. He didn’t give you more than a tantalizing closeness that made you wet with need.

“...good girl,” Axe purred, bringing his slick fingers up to lick clean.

“Please,” you panted, remembering that he wanted to hear when you wanted him. “Give me more than that.”

“...but I’ve… barely started.” Axe tilted your chin and kissed you, letting you taste yourself amongst the metal on his tongue. He continued to tease desire into you by petting your chest and your entrance. He gave you the tips of two fingers, pressing them just inside you. You bucked your hips into him, needing more. Axe smirked against your lips as you moaned into him and then pulled the touch away. He bit your lip, drawing a gasp from you, and withdrew from your body. “...I’ve got… a better idea… this time,” he smirked, looking you up and down as you leaned back against the tree. “...since… you taste so good.”

Axe knelt down into the mud at your feet and lifted one of your legs to rest over his shoulder. You felt your face flush a dark red as he pushed your dress up over your stomach and grinned at the sight before him.

“...have I ever told you…” he asked, glancing up at you to make sure you were okay with this, “...how much I like it… that you don’t… wear underwear?”

He pulled your hips forward, keeping one hand on them to stop the hem of your dress from falling. You caught a flash of his red tongue before it was swirling over your entrance. You shuddered and gasped as he found all those good spots he had avoided before. You squeezed your thighs together, trying to lessen the jolts of electricity that were shooting through you, but Axe gently pushed your legs aside and pushed his tongue deep into you.

“Holy fucking shit-” you panted, whined, and threw your head back against the tree as stars filled your vision. He was good at this. Too good. You were quickly starting to near that peak and heat flushed your skin against the cool air. But he was also good, so good, at keeping you just where he wanted you. Just below that peak but not above it. You twisted your arms against your restraints, begging him between moans for more. He wouldn’t give you that just yet.

A fresh string of curses with Axe’s name mixed in left your lips as you arched your back to get him deeper. He looked up at you, smirking against you as he enjoyed watching you flush and shudder. You let out a cry of delight when his tongue found that spot inside you and caressed it while his teeth teased the spot outside your entrance. Every amazing thing he had ever done in your mouth Axe now repeated down below and you were grabbing at the red bones restraining you, digging your nails into them as you cried out his name and begged him to not stop, to let you ride that wave of pleasure as it came to crash over you.

“Axe, please!” you cried out, writhing beneath him as he paused, smirking, just as you were about to peak. “Please let me! Fuck, I need it please!”

His smile widened as his eye light considered you. It shined with delight among the haze as you tried to draw him in again with your legs, moaning and pleading again for him to finish you. He grabbed your hips and pulled you closer, finding that spot again with his tongue while his fingers dug into your hips. You screamed his name in relief, wrapping your legs around his shoulders and attempted to crush them as he finally pushed you over the edge and let the tidal wave shake your limbs.

You let yourself hang by the red bones, drained. Axe gave you one last lick, sending electric shivers through your over-sensitive entrance, before he stood back up. His red tongue darted out to clean your juices from his face.

“...have fun?” he asked, gently tilting your chin up before placing a kiss on your cheek. You nodded, still panting hard, and he banished the constructs that held you with a wave of his hand. He caught you before you crumpled on your weak knees and held you close. “...should I… give you a moment… before my turn?”

A weak chuckle escaped you as he sat on a tree root and placed you in his lap. You could feel his formed magic through his shorts, reminding you of his own need. You gave him a small nod and rested your head on his shoulder to breathe.

“You’re… really good at that,” you said, once you finally had the air to do so. Axe smiled at you and a small, red flush appeared on his nasal ridge from the compliment. He cuddled you into him and showered your cheek with gentle kisses of appreciation. “So, um,” you asked slowly, unsure of what he wanted now from you. “Do you… want me to tie you up, too? I don’t have any magic so I don’t know how I’d do that…”

“...I’m not… into that,” Axe shook his skull briefly before moving to your neck, to pepper it with kisses and gentle bites. “...I just use it… because I like… taking my time. ...if I get… too excited… I can’t always... enjoy myself… how I like.”

“You mean… you just like the teasing?” you asked, still unsure if Axe had some kind of kink or if he just really, genuinely enjoyed foreplay.

“...I like… watching you get off,” Axe held your gaze with his hazed light. One of his hands, the one not holding you on his lap, slowly crawled up your stomach to gently explore your breasts over your dress. “...I like seeing… how good I make you feel. ...I can’t always… do that during a claim… because I’m too excited, too. ...and I like… knowing I took care of you… first.”

So he did genuinely like foreplay. “Well, is there something I can do for you, too?” you asked, slowly blinking your lashes at him as you felt your body calm enough to go again. A small part of you was disappointed that his magic had already formed. That already was a really great spot to tease, but you wanted to explore more of what happened if the magic was still a feathery plasma. “I know there are certain spots you might like,” you purred and snaked a hand under his blue hoodie, to caress the top wing of his pelvis. Axe shuddered beneath you and pulled you closer to bite at your neck. “But is there anything special you might want? I’ve been told I’m good with my mouth, too.”

“...what do you… mean?” Axe asked. A small groan escaped him as your hand moved into his shorts, to find his member and grasp it. He leaned back on the tree root and the two of you teetered dangerously before he caught the both of you by bracing his hands on the muddy ground.

“I mean what you just did for me, but for you,” you purred. You licked your lips when he looked at your face and, for good measure, you let him see your flat teeth. He shuddered again and his fingertips dug into the dirt as you coaxed his member from his shorts and stroked its length. Another groan escaped him and you felt him tip his pelvis into the touch.

Axe pushed himself off of the ground, caught you, and jumped to his feet. He brought you back to the trunk and pinned your back once again against the bark, but this time he brought your legs up over his hips and held you up himself.

“...next time.” He panted between rough bites at your neck, “...I want this.” He pushed your dress out of the way and pulled his shorts further down until you felt him rubbing against your still slick entrance. “...I want to feel you… so much more.”

You locked your ankles behind his back and turned his face to yours. Since he was holding you up, you had your chance to do what you liked to him this time. You caught his mouth with yours, relishing the sweeter taste of iron he had as you rocked your hips against the head of his member. 

“Then take me,” you breathed, surfacing from the kiss briefly, before you caught that magic tongue of his again. Your hands found the top ridges of his pelvis, grabbed them, and you pulled him into you. Axe rocked his hips, finding your entrance, and you felt him moan as he slid inside. He pulled away from the kiss for a moment, to adjust you against the tree so he could slide himself all the way inside. You heard a small spattering of noise escape his mouth, like the creaking of metal under pressure, as he started to slowly move in and out. Was that Font?

A small shudder shook you. Not only from hearing that you made him feel so good he was unable to use English, but also from the lingering sensitivity of your last peak. Wanting him to reach that, too, you moved your hands under his hoodie to find all the spots you knew. One hand caressed the wing of his pelvis, the other found his spine and you gently scratched your nails along its length. Axe groaned and his brow fell to rest on your shoulder as he ground his hips into yours. His fingers dug into your thighs as he squeezed them and you went after his exposed neck, to bite and suck at the sensitive bones there as he thrust into you.

You murmured his name as that electricity started to build again in you. Axe growled at your call and one of his hands left you. It grabbed the bark near your shoulder and he dug his fingertips deep into the wood. You locked your legs tighter to stay on him, rocking your hips despite the rough bark scratching at your back. You called to him again, pulling him closer by his ribs as Axe got a little faster, a little rougher. You moaned as he pulled at your hips with his other hand and gave you slightly painful bites at your neck. You let your head fall back against the tree as he kept you hovering just below the boiling point again.

“Harder,” you panted to the side of his skull, wondering if he wanted you to beg again like before. “Please, more. I need to feel you come inside me, Axe. I-”

Axe suddenly latched onto your shoulder with his teeth, biting hard enough that you cried out. He slammed into you, again and again, and raked his fingers down your thigh. You felt that electricity sear your nerves again and scraped your nails across his pelvis, down his spine, as you were pushed over the edge a second time. Axe made a muffled noise between a groan and a whine as you felt him shudder. He ground his pelvis against you as he peaked, trying to push himself deeper into you while he filled you with his heat.

The two of you slowed to a stop, panting. Axe finally released his hold on you and you winced as his teeth came away from your skin.

“...I’m… sorry,” he panted, his sharpening red eye light fixed on the marks he had left on you. “...I got… carried away…”

“It’s okay,” you said, gently tilting his skull so you could kiss him. “I don’t mind it if you’re a little rough. I like it.”

“...you’re sure?” Axe asked, eyeing the marks again. Not only on you, but he also looked at the ruined wood of the tree, too. He frowned at those. “...I could’ve… really hurt you.”

“No, you wouldn’t have.” You stood on your wobbly legs, fixed both of your clothes, and led Axe back to the root to sit together. “I know you’d never hurt me, Axe. I love you and I trust you completely.”

Axe gave you an unsure smile. He cupped your cheek and gently kissed you, whispering, “...I love you, too… Willow.”

He wrapped his arm over your shoulder and you leaned against each other while you enjoyed the afterglow together. You stared out at the strip of the river visible beneath the curtain of willow branches. A yellow, almost orange sheen reflected off the water as the sun had started to set.

After some time, Axe quietly asked, “...what should we do… about going home? ...the river will… wash away our scent, but… not our marks.”

You turned your head, to study the mark on Axe’s neck out of the corner of your eye, and chuckled. “I guess we both got a little carried away today.”

“...so what should… we do?” Axe asked, tilting his skull at you expectantly. “...you’re the… alpha. ...it’s… your call.”

You hummed in thought and contemplated the river. “Well, the water is probably a good idea. The others might smell this on us the moment we get in. Unless you use a shortcut to bring us right to my bathroom.”

“...you would let me… shower with you?” Axe asked, smiling at the thought. You shifted uncomfortably under his gaze.

“I’m still… a little sensitive about my scars,” you admitted. “It’s easier for smaller parts, like my arm, shoulder, or back… but not my legs. I’d rather bathe alone if that’s okay.”

Axe nodded and turned his gaze back towards the river. “...I don’t mind. ...we’ll have to… wash our clothes, too… you know. ...the others are used to… me being muddy, but… not you.”

“But if we wash ourselves in the river, would that take care of it?” you asked. Axe nodded and you stared again at the rushing water. It looked very cold. It probably was, if it was runoff from the top of the mountain. “How about this - we jump in quick, you shortcut us back to my room, and we can change immediately into something dry. As for our marks… I just need to eat some monster food and it’ll all heal up. But,” you glanced again at Axe, “I don’t know about yours. I don’t want the others to be upset about a second mark.”

“...I could ask… Pap to heal it.” Axe suggested. “...I get… scrapes… all the time… that I don’t explain. ...it would be fine.”

“I think Papyrus would recognize a mark, considering he has one,” you pointed out. “He’s not stupid, you know. And he already gets a little more jealous of you than the others.”

“...I know.” Axe scratched at the scar on his skull, thinking. “...but… I could say… I showed you… the wolves. ...if I don’t say… you did it… he might assume… I got bit by… one of them. ...it’s happened before.”

“That’s lying,” you huffed. “Can’t you guys hear lies?”

“...it’s not a lie… if it’s a half-truth,” Axe grinned mischievously. “...it’s true… we saw wolves… and it’s true… I got bit by them,” Axe held up his hand to you, where Half-mask had left very slight chew marks on his fingers. “...I just won’t… tell him exactly where… or that you… bit me, too.”

You pursed your lips, not liking the dishonesty. Then again, you reminded yourself, hadn’t you used the same trick before? Saying something that wasn’t technically a lie in order to hide a truth you didn’t want known? “I guess that’s a good plan,” you sighed, unable to think of a better one. “But it would be nice if you guys eventually could accept the fact that I’m intimate with one of you now and then.”

“...we do accept it,” Axe shrugged. “...we just don’t… like it shoved in… our face. ...that’s… bragging.”

You smiled and took Axe’s hand in yours. He was right, of course. “Thanks for thinking of the others. I appreciate it,” you said, giving his fingers a squeeze. “Do you… want to spend the night with me? I’ve got to study for my abnormal psych and calculus exam tomorrow, but I’d like your company.”

Axe hummed thoughtfully, his vacant grin on his skull as he stared at the reflected sunset. “...I do…” he said slowly, considering his words, “...but… I want you… to have a chance… to talk to Edge. ...now that he’s… home again… I want to know when… Butch’s lesson is. ...Butch won’t ask you… to do it… so I will.”

“You want me to do that tonight?” you asked, you mouth open slightly in surprise. Axe nodded.

“...you said… you have exams… tomorrow and the day… after,” Axe reminded you. “...Edge got a few… days off… last time there was… a breech to… recover so he… probably will have some… this time. ...tonight would be… the best chance. ...otherwise… we’ll have to wait… until next week… when he doesn’t go in… for work again. ...not to mention… we need to find a time… that works for us.”

It was hard to argue with that logic. The breach had already thrown a wrench into your plans to talk to Edge earlier this week - Butch was supposed to have one of his lessons on your days off. Now it was looking like you might not get a chance until spring break. Especially if you needed the time to coach Edge on how to teach Butch.

“You’re right, I’ll do that tonight,” you said. Axe smiled brightly at you and nuzzled your cheek affectionately. “Just keep in mind, Axe, that Edge still is recovering from a bunch of fighting we don’t know anything about. I won’t let him push Butch, but I’m not going to push Edge, either, if he needs time to heal.”

Axe tilted his skull, contemplating you out of the corner of his socket. “...he didn’t seem… injured… during lunch.”

“He’s also the kind of dumbass who hides things like that,” you huffed, resting your elbow on your knee and propping your chin on your hand. “You didn’t see him when he came home, Axe. I know he’s not okay. He just won’t let on that he’s not.”

“...are you… worried?” Axe’s bony brow furrowed with confusion. You shrugged at the question.

“I don’t know. I guess?” you mumbled and stared at the mud on your boots. “Trust me, I know he’s a jerk and I know you don’t like him at all. But I… can’t help but feel some empathy for him. You know that Red and I are close now and Red… he told me a lot about his life growing up. It was really hard for him and Edge shared a lot of that, just like Butch shared a lot of your hardships since you grew up together. Edge is an asshole, but I know he cared about you guys. He’s just built up this wall around himself so that he won’t get hurt again.”

“...I… kind of know. ...Red and I… talked… a little bit.” The red light in Axe’s socket flickered strangely. “...do you…” he asked slowly, “...like Edge?”

“I don’t know,” you shrugged again and studied Axe. He had stiffened slightly, like the idea of you being close with Edge was something he didn’t want to think about. “I don’t care for him like I do you, or Mutt, or Butch, or any of the others. I’m not even sure anymore if I want to be friends with him. But I know he needs one, so if we can be friends, I’d be happy with that.”

Axe let out a breath of relief and relaxed. You noticed the slight movement and moved your head to rest on his shoulder.

“Thanks for letting me talk about him with you,” you said quietly, squeezing his hand in yours. “Again, I know you don’t like him, but… you’re a really good listener and it’s hard to talk about him.”

“...I’d rather… you stay away from him,” Axe growled. His grip tightened around your hand and you winced. Axe immediately relaxed and let out a heavy sigh. “...but… you’re right. ...he’s… the only one… who can help Butch. ...none of us… have gone though… a color change and… we don’t know… how to help. ...and I know… I can’t say anything,” Axe added at your look, regarding the mention of color change. He let out a small sigh, admitting, “...unfortunately… you’re the only one… Edge seems to like. ...no one else… would be able to... get him to… cooperate.”

“How do you figure?” you asked, raising your brow at him. It was one thing for Red to say that Edge liked you, but Axe? 

“...no one else… can talk back to him… like you,” Axe mumbled. “...even Sans… will get a punch thrown at him… if he talks down… to Edge. ...and Edge respects Sans. ...not even Milord… can get Edge to listen… and he’s Edge’s boss. ...you’re the only one… who can shout at Edge… or tell him what to do… or make him compromise. ...so he must… like you.”

You chewed on the inside of your cheek while you thought about this. If the way Edge acted now was him when he liked someone, then you really needed to show him healthier ways of doing so. Not just for you, but for his family’s sake. These private lessons wouldn’t be about just how Edge should act around Butch, but they might also end up doubling as some kind of rehabilitation for him. So much for trying to secretly learn about magic. You might not have a chance if you were teaching Edge, too.

“I guess.” You shrugged noncommittally and gestured towards the river. “We should probably get cleaned up and get home before we’re late for dinner. Sans also told us not to be out after dark. I doubt the water is going to be warm... Do you think I could… just splash it on me?”

“...nope.” Axe grinned and scooped you up, bridal style, and carried you towards the water with a mischievous look on his skull. You immediately knew what he was going to do and started to struggle.

“Axe! No no nonono please no!” you squirmed against his hold as you felt him pull you into a shortcut. The pressing dark released you and you stared, for a split second, at the water below you. Your scream was cut short as you fell and the water shocked it from you.

It wasn’t just cold. It was  _ freezing. _

“Get me out!” You sputtered, surfacing against the waves and spitting ice water out of your mouth. You could swim just fine, but you clung to Axe in the hopes he would take another shortcut. “Home! Now! Dammit Axe this is freezing I didn’t want you to  _ fucking dunk me! _ ”

His tumbling laugh filled your ears as you felt the pressure of the new shortcut pull you from the river.

You reappeared in your twilit room. Axe was still laughing as a bunch of water that had hitched a ride with you spilled all over the floor. It washed out towards your bookshelf, your dresser, and the pot with the echo flower. The water leaked under your bed and you stared down at the mess you were now in.

A groan of frustration escaped you as Axe flopped back onto your sheets, roaring with laughter at his prank. Cold might not affect him, but you were shivering and angry. You pulled your dirty clothes from your duffel bag, glaring at him, and tried your best to mop up the water. 

“Clothes,” you said flatly, holding your hand out to him. You kicked your laundry around, mopping haphazardly, and felt grateful that the material of your sweater dresses acted like a sponge. “I’ve got to get all this down to drain into the bathtub before the wood gets damaged. You can take what you’d like to wear from my dresser - I’ve got extra sweatpants and shirts.”

You pulled your yoga pants, socks, and green sweater from your dresser as Axe undressed. He was still giggling to himself as you started to pile all the wet clothes into your duffel bag to move.

He dropped everything - his hoodie, shirt, shorts, and slippers - over your shoulders and onto the wet pile at your feet. Axe snaked his arms around your waist and nuzzled your cheek.

“...love you,” he chuckled. You glared at him, letting him know you were upset, before giving his brow a quick kiss. You weren’t going to stay upset once you were warm and dry. Using the river was something you had agreed to.

“I love you too, you clod,” you huffed, taking your heavy, wet bag and dry clothes down to the bathroom to change. “And put some clothes on!”

Downstairs, you turned the shower on a nice, warm deluge as you stripped off your icy clothes. Getting into dry clothes was fine, but you needed to chase the chill from your skin or you would get sick. The brief time you spent in the water had been enough to make the old bolt in your arm start to ache, and you knew that was an indicator you had gotten too cold. You let out a sigh as the warmth washed over you and decided a quick shower would be fine since you were already in it.

As you lathered a honey-based soap over your scars, to soften them, you considered what Axe had asked you earlier. Would you ever be comfortable enough with yourself to let the guys see you naked? Sure, Mutt had - once - but it was dark and he hadn’t focused on them. 

But, you reminded yourself as you rinsed shampoo from your hair, the guys had dark vision. It was as good as light in the basement when Mutt claimed you. Were you doing yourself any favors by lying to yourself and thinking he didn’t see?

You climbed out of the tub and pulled the wet clothes from your bag. You draped them across the edge to dry and turned to face the mirror. The soap had stung as it ran over the punctures on your hand and the parts of your back where the bark had rubbed it raw. The bite on your neck was starting to change color and, you winced when you touched it, was starting to bruise. You also noticed the dark scratches up your scarred thigh from Axe’s fingertips. You knew he hadn’t meant to, but you also knew the others would flip out if they saw any of this. Sans especially - he was already worried about your safety.

A tired smile tugged at your cheeks as you pulled your green sweater over your head. Axe had been genuinely sorry, but you hadn’t lied when you told him you liked it a little rough. Maybe though, next time, you would talk him into doing this in your room instead of outside. Sheets were more forgiving than bark and he wouldn’t dig his fingers into you if he didn’t have to hold you up. The biting, though… you’d have to think about that. You liked that part a bit too much to want to somehow ban it entirely.

Your black yoga pants and socks were more than enough to hide the other accidents. The collar of your sweater, however, only covered half of the bite he had given you and you wondered how to hide it. You didn’t have much makeup and Axe wasn’t allowed to go into the cupboards to get food for you. Pap was surely already in the kitchen making dinner...

A knock at the bathroom door made you jump. You put a hand over the mark, covering it, before you cracked open the door.

“hey... Lily,” Butch smiled at you. He pointed at the stairs just out of sight, adding with a small giggle, “um… dinner’s ready… if you’re done.” 

“Thanks,” you said, raising an eyebrow as Butch covered his mouth and giggled again. “What’s so funny?”

“you’ll… see.” Butch gave you a broad, lopsided grin and turned around to knock at Red’s door.

“Hey, Butch?” you poked your head out as Red answered his dinner summons. “Leave Edge for me, will you? I want to talk to him.”

Butch nodded, still giggling, and made his way towards Sans’ door. Red watched him walk down the hall with narrowed, crimson lights.

“th’ fuck’s so funny?” he asked you. You shrugged and considered the view you had of his room. It was it’s usual, messy state, but you were more interested in the snack bags crumpled up on the floor.

“Red?” you asked. Red turned his eye lights on you and raised a bony brow. “You wouldn’t happen to have any kind of… monster snacks, would you?”

You watched him narrow his lights suspiciously, to try to look past the gap in the door to see you. He even sniffed at the air, no doubt trying to smell blood, but you hadn’t exactly bled, except with the wolf bite, and hopefully your perfumed soap covered that.

“Axe and I went for a walk today and I got a little roughed up by a tree,” you said sheepishly, hoping that a partial truth like this was enough to fool Red.

Red stared you down and you shifted on your feet, unable to stop the embarrassed flush rising to your cheeks. His glare slowly flattened into a look of exasperation.

“fer fuck’s sake, Doll, can’t yeh even walk in th’ woods without gettin’ hurt?” Red growled and went back into his room to rummage around his things. He tossed you a half-eaten bag of chips with a fluffy, anime-like cat on the package. A peel of melodic laughter from downstairs turned both of your heads and was quickly joined by a raspy response. You glance down the hall. Butch, after getting Sans, must’ve returned downstairs to whatever was going on.

You shoved a handful of purple chips in your mouth and wrinkled your nose at the cherry cola flavoring. “Thanks,” you mumbled to Red, passing him the bag back as you eyed your reflection in the mirror. As soon as you swallowed the marks around your neck melted away like they had never been.

“well, hurry up, Doll,” Red jabbed his thumb towards Edge’s door. He leaned against his own doorframe, giving you every indication he was going to go downstairs with you, and munched on the purple chips while he waited. You glanced at him, unsure if Edge would be in a more forgiving mood with his brother present, and knocked. 

Several long, uneasy seconds passed before Edge opened his door. His lights flickered down at you blearily, still foggy with sleep, but they quickly hardened as he eyed you. Your eyes glanced over his different attire. Instead of his usual black jeans and turtleneck, Edge wore a pair of long, black silk pants and a charcoal grey, loose fitting, long sleeved shirt.

“WHAT?” he snapped, the usual sharpness in his tone. You looked back up at his scowl and reminded yourself of what you wanted.

“Dinner’s ready,” you said, pointing at the stairs. Edge immediately shoved you aside with the back of his gloved hand. You grabbed his wrist to get him to pause.

“DON’T TOUCH ME!” Edge snarled, yanking his wrist away from you. Behind you, Red growled a warning. Edge glared at him, too.

“I just want to ask you,” you said quickly to Edge, placing yourself between the brothers as Red stepped forward aggressively, “if you would come up to my room after dinner to talk.”

Both of their eye lights widened at you in surprise, though Edge was much quicker to recover from the shock. “WHY THE HELL WOULD I DO THAT?”

“To talk about the lesson,” you said and crossed your arms over your chest. You knew he was going to be stubborn about doing things your way, so you decided to entice him with something he wanted. “I was hoping we could at least talk about a time that works for everyone to have it. You know damn well that anything you want to plan for Butch has to go through me first.”

Edge’s red lights scrutinized you. “...FINE,” he grumbled, stepped past you, and made his way downstairs.

“yeh know he’s got a thing ‘bout bein’ touched, right?” Red asked, taking his place by your side as you descended the wide, oak stairs after Edge. “he don’ let no one do that shit.”

“He touched me first to push me out of the way,” you pointed out. You could hear Pap’s loud voice chastising someone, and Sans’ low tone murmuring agreement, as you both approached the kitchen.

‘-HONESTLY, WOLVES?” Papyrus stood in the center of the kitchen and rolled his white eye lights. Axe was in a chair in front of him, his back to you, as Pap pressed a bare hand leaking orange magic to his neck. The whole room smelled like garlic, tomato, and brown sugar.

“I know you’re friends with the local dogs,” Sans piped up from the table, “but you should know better than to take Thyme to see them. they’ve roughed you up once or twice before since you won’t fight them back.”

“...they wouldn’t like me… if I did.” Axe said. “...and you know… my magic is… too powerful. ...I could easily hurt… animals.”

“To be fair, he showed me the puppies,” you said, coming to Axe’s defense as you took a seat next to a still-giggling Butch. All the places at the table were set, but Edge was the only one eating his spaghetti and garlic bread and he did not look happy at all. Then again, he rarely did. “The alpha was there, but Axe took me away before the rest of the pack returned. We had fun.”

“heard you got dunked on,” Sans grinned across from you, eyeing your wet head with a smirk.

“Oh ha ha,” you grumbled sarcastically, rolling your eyes as Axe’s tumbling chuckle filled the kitchen.

“...I thought… it was funny,” Axe turned to look over his shoulder at you, his red light shining, before Pap turned his skull forward again to focus on the mark on his neck.

“WELL, WHATEVER YOU DID TO MAKE THE ALPHA ANGRY, SHE REALLY GOT YOU GOOD,” Pap huffed, lifting his hand to check the mark. “THIS DOESN’T WANT TO COME OUT!”

“...I only upset her… a little,” Axe said, the chuckle still in his voice. You sank in your chair a bit and quietly ate your spaghetti. It wasn’t a lie, you had been really jealous, but you weren’t angry. But what Axe said wasn’t a lie so the fact that you made the mark went unnoticed by the rest. Though Sans did raise a brow at you as you avoided looking across the table at him.

“Either way, I love your fashion choices,” Mutt smirked on Sans’ left side. He wasn’t looking at you, though, but at Axe. “What’s the occasion?”

“...mine are dirty and...I don’t have… any other clothes,” Axe shrugged. You peeked curiously around the chair Axe sat in, but could only see a mass of black. Butch giggled again and elbowed you, his white lights shining with amusement.

“th’ fuck’s so funny?” Red asked again. He had taken a seat next to you, with Edge on his right, but looked to you for an answer. You shrugged and Sans snickered at the question.

“he’s just wanted to dress to impress,” Sans shrugged, smiling as Mutt and Butch rejoined with their own stifled snickers.

“SANS!” Pap snapped, his white eye lights glaring a warning at his brother. “NOT AT THE TABLE!”

“I mean, it’s not the weirdest thing Axe has done,” Mutt shrugged, finally picking up his garlic bread and taking a large, crunchy bite. “Just never pegged him as the type. Good on him.”

“What do you mean?” you asked, grateful to see that Mutt was awake and having a good time with whatever was going on.

“HE’S WEARING ONE OF YOUR DRESSES.” Pap sighed and picked Axe up by the back of his clothes. Pap lifted Axe into the air, giving you a full view of the black sweater dress Axe had borrowed from you. You snorted your spaghetti in surprise and a noodle came out your nose. 

“th’ fuck ‘er yeh wearin’ a dress fer?!” Red snapped, oblivious to you as you covered your red face and pulled the rogue noodle free. Sans howled with melodic laughter and banged his fist on the table. Your face felt like fire as you realized that he, at least, had noticed the noodle.

“...it’s comfy,” Axe said simply. Pap rolled his eye lights again and examined Axe’s neck. The mark was still there, though it had faded considerably, and Pap deemed it good enough. He shooed Axe towards the table and placed the chair next to Butch for Axe to take his seat. Axe, enjoying the reactions from his brothers and you, took his time going back to his chair to show off the borrowed outfit.

“yeh can’ wear that, it’s fer women!” Red growled, standing up angrily. Edge crossed his arms over his chest and glared at everyone, seemingly too upset by everything for words. Either that, or he was still too tired to make his usual stinging remarks.

“...who says?” Axe asked, finally taking his seat. “...if it fits… and I like it… why can’t I… wear it?”

“cuz men don’ wear dresses!” Red jabbed his finger at the hall, adding, “go put on pants like a man, yeh weirdo!”

“...Willow is… wearing pants. ...is she… dressing like… a man?” Axe asked, crossing his arms over his chest as he leaned to look down the table at Red.

“that’s different!” Red growled. “some shit they can wear ‘a ours!”

“...why?”

“cuz she’s a woman!” Red argued feebly, gesturing angrily at you with his fork.

“...you’re just… jealous.” Axe rolled his light and happily twirled his spaghetti around his spoon. Red stared at him, his mouth hanging open in confusion.

“...of fuckin’ what!?” Red asked, his sharp teeth turned down into a frown.

“...that I’m… secure with my… masculinity.” Axe smirked, eating like he hadn’t said something that hushed the whole table, or anything more interesting than the weather.

“GIT OVER HERE YEH LITTLE SHIT!” Red roared, climbing on top of the table to get at Axe. You and Butch grabbed plates and moved them out of Red’s path while the rest of the guys roared with laughter. Even Edge had joined in with his sharp cackle as Axe grinned, darted out of Red’s grasp, and ran under the table, his dress fluttering in the breeze.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you'd like to see some awesome fan art, updates on posts or what's going on during my breaks, or even some dumb blurbs of mine, feel free to follow me on Insta! 
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	37. Ch 34 - Lessons

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope y'all had a merry christmahunakwazaka - whatever! (Holidays :P) 
> 
> This chapter is a little shorter than usual, but that's cuz we're all a little preoccupied around this time of year, hm?
> 
> Hope you lovelies are taking care of yourselves! Thanks for stopping by and giving this a read <3
> 
> Feel free to check out my insta for fanart and updates! :D   
> https://www.instagram.com/oolongteacup426/?hl=en

Ch 34 - Lessons

“Do you think I should go after them?” you asked, looking between Sans and Pap as they helped you clean up the kitchen. Pap took it upon himself to wash dishes. Sans was by his side with a towel to dry and put away. Since Red was still tearing around the house after Axe, (you could hear his rough tones shouting from upstairs,) it fell to Butch to clean up the leftovers. You trotted between them and the table, ferrying dirty dishes and wiping down splatters of sauce Red had caused by climbing over all the table.

“Ah, don’t worry about it. No one can catch Axe unless he wants to be caught.” Mutt leaned back in his chair and waved your worry away. You quirked an eyebrow at him and handed Butch the cold pie tin of last night’s goulash from the fridge. You needed room on the shelf for tonight’s spaghetti for Milord. Mutt handed his own finished plate across the table to his little brother and gave you a reassuring grin. “Red’s a hothead, but he’ll be fine once he accepts this.”

“WHATEVER ‘THIS’ IS,” Edge grumbled sourly and passed his own empty plate over to Butch.

“What, you have a problem with it?” Mutt growled, narrowing his red lights at Edge. Edge matched his glare and you felt the air tense between them. “He’s not the only one in the family who’s a little fluid. Figures you’d-”

“I DON’T GIVE A DAMN WHAT ANY OF YOU ARE.” Edge snapped, rising out of his seat to tower over everyone except Pap (who was the only one taller than him,) “JUST LEAVE ME THE HELL OUT OF THIS CONVERSATION.”

“Fuck you too, you ass,” Mutt muttered darkly. Edge scowled and vanished from the kitchen in the space of a blink, leaving the smell of gasoline to linger in his chair. Mutt stuck his burnt orange tongue out at the spot Edge had just been. 

“Maybe this subject just makes him uncomfortable,” you said gently, placing your hand on Mutt’s shoulder. Mutt’s eye lights snapped over to you and they softened as they spotted your hesitant smile. “It doesn’t sound like he’s against different sexualities. He just doesn’t want to talk about it.”

“to be fair, Edge doesn’t like talking about anything unless he’s insulting us about it,” Sans pointed out. He flicked a finger at a plate in his other hand and if floated on a cloud of blue plasma to put itself away. “with him, not saying anything is probably his weird form of approval.”

“DO YOU THINK AXE IS SERIOUS ABOUT IT, OR JUST JOKING AROUND?” Pap asked, looking over his shoulder at the table to Butch. Butch tilted his skull, unsure of how to answer. The yellow, rubber gloves Pap wore dripped soapy suds as he furrowed his bony brow in thought and turned to Mutt instead. “YOU KNOW MORE ABOUT THIS THAN ANY OF US. WHAT DO YOU THINK?”

“I’m curious... too.” Butch handed you the last plate and turned his curious, white eye lights upon Mutt. “but I was sure… Axe was straight. he’s only ever… dated females.”

“Sexuality and identity aren’t the same thing,” Mutt said gently, his golden fang flashing as he smiled at his little brothers. “First off, don’t confuse them. Maybe Axe’s romantic interests are strictly female, but if he’s wearing a dress maybe that means he doesn’t identify completely as male. It could be he’s just finally comfortable enough to come out as phi.”

“Fee?” You paused at the fridge, a folded card and note with Milord’s name on it in your hand, and raised an eyebrow at Mutt.

“not fee, phi.” Sans leaned on the counter near Pap and explained, “a phi is someone who identifies as a different gender than the one they were born with. you know, a male stating they’re female and vice versa.”

“It can also be a term for someone who doesn’t identify as male or female at all or even somewhere in between,” Mutt added. “And if anyone asks they simply say they’re ‘phi’ and use ‘they/them’ pronouns.”

“DO HUMANS NOT HAVE PHIS?” Pap asked you, glancing curiously down at you as you came to stand on his other side. 

You made the connection in your mind that the term they were using, phi, was a broader term equivalent to non-binary or transgender. “Sure we do. Humans use different names, though, not phi.”

“I don’t think… Axe is a phi,” Butch said softly, his white eye lights darting between Sans and Mutt. Butch handed you a stack of plates to carry to Pap and you gently dropped the stack into the soapy water. “he’s never… asked to be called ‘her’. he just… likes what he likes… and doesn’t care… what anyone else thinks.”

“That’s true. And he still calls himself a beta, never a delta.” Mutt tapped at his golden fang thoughtfully and stared up at the ceiling. “Maybe he just likes to cross-dress?”

“Maybe. It might be better if we just ask him directly and let him tell us himself,” you said. Curious, now that the topic was up, you asked, “Are phis commonly accepted among other monsters?”

“SURE THEY ARE. THE SHOPKEEPER BACK IN OUR OLD HOMETOWN WAS A PHI AND SHE WAS VERY WELL LIKED.” Pap gestured between himself and Sans with a soapy sponge, meaning he was talking about their old home back in District One; in Snowdin. “STILL, IT’S WEIRD FOR AXE TO DRESS LIKE THAT IF HE DOESN’T CONSIDER HIMSELF FEMALE.”

“Has Axe never  _ not _ been weird?” Mutt said with a raspy chuckle.

“It doesn’t have to be weird,” you shrugged. “People can like what they like, you know? It’s fine if guys like ‘feminine’ things like fashion or makeup just like it’s okay for girls to like video games or sports. And what’s a delta?” you asked. Pap shrugged so you looked to Mutt for the answer. It was nice to hear that monsters understood the idea of different sexualities and identities and that they seemed to generally accept it, too, even if they still had defined gender norms.

“A female under an alpha,” Mutt explained. “Undyne’s partner, Alphys, is a delta.”

“Does that make Alphys a phi, then?” you moved to the table and took a seat next to Mutt. It seemed like a pretty encompassing term to you, so you wanted to make sure you understood their definition of it properly. Mutt smiled at you, his red lights shining with excitement to help you understand.

“Not quite. A phi is a standalone name used in conversation to help one monster understand that another wants to be seen as something else,” he said. “That’s why we label certain bits of clothes as strictly ‘male’ or ‘female’. Since our sense of smell tells us what someone was born as, clothing helps us see at a glance what someone wants to be known as without that person having to have a conversation with everyone they meet. If you want to be seen as female, you wear a dress or a skirt. Since the gender ratio of born males and females is about five to one in the Underground, most phis tend to identify as female. 

The titles we have for relationships, such as alpha, beta, and delta, are ones that help represent both identity and sexuality. A born female who wants to be seen as male, who then takes the mark of an alpha, would be called a beta. He would be called the same as a born male, even though he’s a phi. Make sense?”

“a delta is a female who is under an alpha,” Sans’ low tone added from across the kitchen. “an alpha is always a dominant, natural born female, since they’re the only ones who can actually breed and they need their chosen pack to help them prepare for that. but the other title, a delta, is for females the alpha marks, but those females can also be phi.”

“There are more names besides alpha, beta, and delta,” Mutt said, reclaiming your attention. “Polyamory can be done many different ways, though the usual one for us is what you know: the alpha and her betas. Most monsters are either alphas or betas unless they’re not completely straight. Take me, for example. I identify as male, but I’ve had a few different titles depending on my pack and my position in it. When I chose to be marked by a dominant male, I was called an omega. He was my gamma and any females under him were called kappas. Most kappas are usually phi-females since almost all born-females choose to be alphas due to the benefits of having betas. Though females who can’t, or won’t, breed can also call themselves gammas if they lead their own pack.”

“What about anyone who is just phi?” you asked, your brow furrowed as you tried to understand this new information.

“Anyone that is solely phi chooses their title based on their position in their pack and what makes them most comfortable, though a phi can never be an alpha,” Mutt explained. “There are also thetas, but those are more rare than phis. A theta is a dominant male with several rho - sub females - that provide for him, but no males. We thought our late King was a theta but he made it very clear that the Queens ran the relationship and he provided for them all.”

You nodded, slowly processing the flood of information. There were a lot of different names to remember, but Mutt was right. Polyamory could be done many different ways and with the gender ratio being so off in the underground, with males outnumbering females by quite a bit, it was almost expected that not all of them would choose to be with an alpha. 

“That makes sense. So… you were an omega once? Does that mean you’re bisexual?” you asked Mutt. It didn’t surprise you that Mutt had exes, most of the brothers seemed to have at least one, but you didn’t know he had dated males before. You had heard from Axe that Mutt was a little more fluid with his preferences but this was the first you had heard Mutt talking about it. Mutt’s fluidity might also be why he seemed to know so much more about this subject than his brothers.

“I’m pansexual. I still identify as male, though, not as phi.” Mutt grinned at you, his eye lights soft at your easy acceptance of his differences. “Love can come from anyone, pretty bird. Why restrict yourself?”

“IS IT JUST PANS OR IS IT POTS, TOO?” Pap looked over his shoulder at Mutt, pausing as he scrubbed the dishes, and raised a bony brow at him. Sans let out a snort of laughter at the accidental pun and covered his teeth in an attempt to hold his humor in. “I KNEW YOU WERE A BIT OPEN ON THOSE THINGS, BUT STAY AWAY FROM MY COOKWARE.”

Mutt let out a loud, raspy laugh at this. “No, Pap, pansexual means I’m attracted to anyone, not to literal pans. It’s similar to being bi, but someone who’s bi prefers male or female identities. Pansexual is someone who’ll take male, female, phi - anyone. I honestly thought you’d know more about this considering that Sans is bi.”

Sans dropped the pot he was drying with a towel and flushed a deep blue. “keep what I tell you during our drinking nights out of this,” he grumbled over the clatter, hiding his color as he retrieved the pot from the tile. Pap watched him, his white lights narrowed. “that’s not something I want everyone to know.”

“Ah, you don’t need to be embarrassed about it big bro,” Mutt grinned. “Sexuality is a part of all of us no matter where you lie on the spectrum. Even though not everyone agrees with everyone else’s choices, there aren’t any laws that tell us how to be ourselves or who we can love. Who cares if you’re bi? It’s honestly it’s kind of nice to know. I thought I was the only one in the house who wasn’t plain straight aside from Milord until you told me. It’s not like the rest of our bros like to talk about their preferences.” Mutt gestured towards his younger brothers, “Pap and Butch are obviously a bit oblivious about this stuff and it’s nice to get all this in the air.”

“Wait, is Milord bi, too? Or pansexual?” you asked, your eyebrows jumping up towards your hairline in surprise. Milord tended to show very little affection, so it was a bit hard to think he’d be so open with himself.

“Technically, he’s demisexual,” Mutt shrugged, then looked around the kitchen. “Just don’t tell him I told you that. I thought he was asexual for the longest time and he likes to let others think that, too.”

“what’s the... difference?” Butch asked shyly, his skull tilted with curiosity. 

“Asexual means you’re not attracted to anyone physically,” Mutt told him, quickly adding, “but that doesn’t mean someone who’s asexual is aromantic, too. You can be asexual and still be in a relationship but you just leave physical stuff out of it. Demisexual is similar in that someone like that doesn’t have any kind of physical interest in anyone, but that changes if there’s a strong enough emotional attachment. They usually need to trust someone quite a bit before romantic feelings happen.”

A warmth filled your chest at those words. Milord must really trust you, if he was physically attracted to you. “It’s really nice to know that monsters are accepting of these things,” you said, smiling brightly at the room. “Humans are still kind of accepting the sexuality spectrum and transgender individuals. We’ve made progress, but it’s awesome that monster culture is way ahead of us on that.”

“what does… ‘transgender’ mean?” Butch asked you. You went to answer him and paused, noticing that Pap moodily thrust the last of the clean dishes into Sans’ hands. Sans, who still had a dusting of blue across his nasal ridge and was trying to hide it, seemed not to notice Pap’s strange change in attitude as he swapped out the yellow gloves for his red mitts.

“It’s like what ‘phi’ is, but not as encompassing as a term,” you explained, letting that moment pass for now in favor of the conversation. “It means someone who’s in the process of changing their gender into something else or simply identifies themselves differently than what they were born as. We also use the term ‘non-binary’ for someone who identifies as a mixture of male and female or neither at all.”

“humans can change... their gender?” Butch’s white lights went wide at the thought.

“Sure,” you nodded. “From my understanding, they use hormone therapy and corrective surgery to become what they were meant to be.”

From the reactions around the room, either a widening of eye lights or a furrowing of bony brow, you realized you had said something very strange. Skulls turned as the sounds of stomping filled the gap of silence. It sounded like Red was chasing Axe back downstairs.

“Oh, that’s right,” you mumbled, turning pink. “Monsters don’t have medicine. You guys can’t change like that, can you? But…” you let your thought trail off as you chewed on your words. Then, trying to make sure it came out right, you asked slowly, “I thought your magic made up your bodies and represented who you are? How does…?”

“our born gender isn’t our choice,” Sans said gently, grinning at you. “we can’t decide something like that so early. hell, we don’t even know who we are for sure until we reach magical maturity. once our body is first formed, and our alchemical matrix is set and we’re born, we are what we are.”

“What’s an alchemical matrix?” Mutt asked, quirking a bony brow at Sans.

“it’s the connections from our soul that supply our bodies with magic,” Sans explained. “it also determines our magical alignment.”

“What alignment?” Mutt asked, then narrowed his red eye lights at Sans. “How do you know all this?”

“I read it in a book,” Sans shrugged, a lazy grin on his skull. He turned back to the sink, where Pap had been watching the exchange with a frown on his skull, and busied himself with wiping soapy water from the counter.

Mutt rolled his eye lights and he gave an exasperated sigh. “You know what? I’m not even going to ask. I don’t feel like playing the ‘dodge actual answers’ game with you.”

“But your magic can still change,” you said, gesturing towards Butch. “It’s not set even after magical maturity. It just takes a lot more to turn into something else.”

“It’s not… the same,” Butch flushed gold and shrank in his seat as all gazes turned on him. “I’m not… phi or… anything else. I know… what I am I just… see myself... differently than before.”

“I’m sorry, Butch, I didn’t mean it like that!” you said quickly, kicking yourself for making a comparison like that so loosely. “I just meant that some changes in who you are reflect themselves in your magic. I wasn’t trying to change the meaning of your color change by saying that.”

Butch gave you a shy, lopsided smile and reached under the table to give your hand a squeeze. “it’s okay… Lily. I don’t get… all of this stuff… either. I know you… didn’t mean anything… by it. just don’t… think I’m… something else… because of my change.”

You squeezed his hand back, appreciating his understanding. This stuff could be complicated as it was without mistaking one thing for another. The last thing you wanted to do was say or do something through ignorance and insult someone.

Your brow furrowed as you slowly started to understand something. “Hold on,” you mumbled, your mind whirring over your own mistake. “I think I might know why Red is so upset.” You jumped up from the table, your chair screeching across the tile, and raced out of the kitchen. Maybe the others thought Red was just upset because Axe challenged his masculinity, but now you had a hunch it was more than that.

You followed the sound of angry growls and shouting to the living room. Your anxiety spiked as you caught the smell of smoke and instantly pinched your nose shut. You took a moment to breathe slowly through your mouth, to push the memory of flames away, before rounding the corner.

Red was chasing Axe around, grabbing at the black dress his brother wore. Crimson plasma leaked from Red’s hands and his sockets were dark with anger. Many of the lounge chairs had been knocked over and the couch had been shoved halfway across the room.

“take it off!” Red snarled, snatching at Axe again. Axe easily avoided him and jumped up onto the back of the couch. He balanced there like a bird, his arms folded over his chest and a smirk on his skull.

“...no.” Axe narrowed his red light at his brother. “...you can’t tell me… what to like.”

“Guys, hold on,” you stepped forward, to stop Red’s advance towards Axe, and Red shoved you out of the way.

“stay outta this, Doll!” he snapped. Axe’s socket went dark and his amused smirk vanished as you fell to the floor. A low growl escaped him as he lowered his stance, teetering slightly on the back of the couch as he prepared to pounce.

“No, don’t!” You scrambled to your feet and got between them again. You held your arm out (the other was just an elbow, since you kept your nose pinched shut to keep out Red’s magic) and looked between their aggressive stances. “Both of you, sit down for a second so we can talk about this!”

“fuck no!” Red growled. He side-stepped to go around you and you moved to get in his way again. Axe let out another warning growl as Red grabbed your arm. “it’s fuckin’ insultin’ an’ I ain’t gonna let him wear it!”

“I know why you’re angry. I really do!” You grabbed him back and pushed his arm to keep him away from Axe. “You think what he’s doing is belittling all those women you used to protect, don’t you?”

Red stilled. His dark sockets turned to look at your face and you saw his scowl shrink in surprise. You took this as a good sign, that you were right, and continued.

“Those places you destroyed, you did it all to protect the life choices of those women. You fought for them to have the right to be who they are and live how they wanted, didn’t you?” You said quickly. Maybe Axe wouldn’t understand your vague reference, but you knew Red did. He knew you were talking about the brothels he had burned. How many of the women he had fought to protect were phi? Monsters might be more accepting than humans, but that didn’t mean all of them were. Freedom meant everything to Red and not just for himself. “You wanted them to be free to make their own choices, right?”

“‘s right,” Red growled, though you could see the flicker of his crimson eye lights as they started to return. “‘n this jackass is insulin’ every one of ‘em who wasn’ seen fer what they are.”

“No, he’s not,” you gently corrected. “Axe is using his own freedom of choice. I know you don’t care if he’s phi or not, but he doesn’t have to be phi to challenge gender norms. Neither of you is wrong right now. Red, you’re right that those who are different shouldn’t have their symbols of individuality taken away. Axe, you’re right that someone else shouldn’t tell you what you’re allowed to like just because society says it’s supposed to be a certain way. You  _ both _ consider personal freedom to be important and you  _ both _ are allowed to have your side. Just take this moment to see that you’re both fighting for the freedom of choice and understand that you’re just going about it through different ways.” 

There was a long silence as the brothers considered each other. Red’s eye lights came back fully and the crimson plasma he leaked faded, but Axe was the first to speak.

“...I just like… what I like.” Axe said slowly, contemplating his words as his own red eye light returned. “...I don’t think… anyone should tell me… how to be me.”

“‘n I don’ give a shit one way ‘er another,” Red grumbled. “but yeh’ve got no fuckin’ idea what it’s like fer somma them phis.”

“...no, I don’t.” Axe glanced at you before climbing off the back of the couch. He straightened his black dress and Red glared at the gesture. The glare immediately softened when it spotted the flicker of uncertainty in Axe’s eye light, or the guilty shift between his feet. “...I’ll… go find something… else.”

It felt like someone had tightened a belt around your chest as Axe took one more look at himself; at the borrowed dress. Red’s sharp teeth turned down into a frown and frustrated growl escaped him.

“sit th’ fuck down, yeh weirdo,” Red snapped. Axe paused, his eye light flickering curiously back up at Red. Red huffed and he anxiously pulled at the white fur of his black hoodie. He hesitated, growling at himself under his breath, before he mumbled, “it ain’t th’ same as bein’ phi, but… most damn yeh fer what yeh almost were instead a seein’ what yeh saved a yerself. ...so yeh get it. wear th’ stupid thing if it makes yeh so fuckin’ happy.”

Axe’s vacant smile slowly returned. His eye light shined brightly and he rushed Red with a hug, tackling him to the ground. You giggled as Red started swearing incoherently in gravelly Font and tried to push Axe off.

“Oh, come on, Red,” you knelt on the floor near the pair and joined the embrace. Axe’s nasal ridge gained a dusting of red when you kissed it while Red himself flushed entirely crimson with embarrassment beneath you both. “You deserve a little love, too.”

“...come with me,” Axe jumped to his feet and tugged at Red’s sleeve. “...I want to… show you something.”

“swear teh th’ fuckin’ angel,” Red looked to you, his crimson lights silently pleading, as Axe tried to pull him across the living room floor by his hoodie. “if it’s another damn rock-”

“...this is… better,” Axe shook his skull and dragged Red on his back across the hardwood. 

You stifled a giggle and said, “Maybe you should show him your kind of rock, Red.”

Red gave you a bewildered look until you pointed at your neck; to mime putting on headphones. He growled at you, “is that a fuckin’ pun?!”

Laughter finally escaped you as Axe managed to pull Red over the slight lip in the floor, up into the hall, and out of sight. You stood there for a moment, feeling giddy that those two understood each other a bit more.

You left the living room to head back into the kitchen. Sans passed you in the hall, his eye lights glazed over and a lazy grin fixed upon his skull like a mask. He was closely followed by Papyrus.

“-DON’T SEE WHY YOU NEVER TOLD ME THAT!” Pap said irritably, his hands thrown up as he climbed the stairs after his brother. “IT DOESN’T MATTER IF YOU’RE BI, BUT YOU COULD’VE TOLD ME!”

“I just don’t like talking about it.” Sans’ low tone mumbled.

“YOU DON’T LIKE TALKING ABOUT ANYTHING ANYMORE!” You heard Pap’s loud voice echo from upstairs. You paused just below the railing of the loft to listen. “I THOUGHT WE STILL KNEW EVERYTHING ABOUT EACH OTHER! NOT KNOWING YOU LIKE QUANTUM WHATEVER IS ONE THING, BUT THIS IS A BIG PART OF YOU!”

“no one knows everything about someone else, Pap.”

“I THOUGHT WE WERE CLOSE!”

“we are.”

“OBVIOUSLY NOT, IF MUTT KNOWS MORE ABOUT YOU THAN I DO!”

A door slammed upstairs and you stared up at the ceiling with worry bubbling in your chest. You had noticed Pap’s irritated attitude earlier. Was this something you should help them with? You chewed on your lip, glancing between the kitchen and the stairs. It wasn’t possible for you to do two things at once and, right now, there was someone else you needed to focus on.

If Pap and Sans couldn’t work this out on their own, you’d help them later.

You headed back into the kitchen. Mutt and Butch sat at the table together. 

“-that doesn’t mean someone who’s submissive in a relationship isn’t like that overall,” Mutt explained, his red eye lights shining, to his curious little brother. He smiled, with a sharp-toothed enthusiasm that clearly showed, to know someone else was curious about something he knew so much about. “The titles simply refer to leaders or followers and their identities. You can be a beta and still be a top, or be an alpha and a bottom. Preferences in bed aren’t directly translated like that. Hell, I don’t like being submissive in bed but I prefer letting someone else take charge of the relationship. So you can still explore yourself and what you like and not have to worry about changing titles. Betas are betas because they’re identified males who let the alpha make the main decisions in the relationship. You’d be a beta under Robin no matter what, unless you know you’re phi and decide to use delta instead.”

“I’m not… like that.” Butch said softly, his nasal ridge flushing gold. You quietly took a seat next to him and Mutt flashed you a smile. “I don’t like… meeting new people, but… I know I only like… females and that… I’m male. I just… didn’t know there were… so many ways to… like others like that.”

“Didn’t Axe teach you anything about this stuff?” Mutt asked, his brow raised. “I mean, the different titles are pretty common knowledge.”

Butch shook his skull. “he just taught me… to like what I like. Axe had to learn… everything he knows… on his own. Since he only… likes females… I only know about… alphas and betas.” 

Mutt hummed thoughtfully and leaned back in his chair as he contemplated Butch. “I’d have figured he’d know more about these things.”

“I don’t think Axe’s old caretaker ever had the chance to teach him about sexuality,” you added softly. Both boys’ eye lights flicked over to watch you. “He told me he was just a kid when they separated,” you said, trying to not say more than Axe might want his brothers to know, “I don’t think she would teach a child things like that. Identity, on the other hand… I’m glad she taught him to love himself no matter what he likes.”

“Yeah, that’s fair,” Mutt shrugged. “Still, just because you’re learning about these things a little later in life doesn’t make it any less important, Butch. Maybe once you know yourself a little better you’ll find out you’re somewhere on the spectrum, too.”

Butch flushed a darker shade of gold and stared down at the floor, mumbling quietly to himself. A raspy chuckle escaped Mutt and you caught the movement of his hand as he toyed with the cigarette pack in the pocket of his black hoodie.

“No matter what, I’m the last guy who’s gonna judge you,” Mutt said, taking a black cigarette from his pack and nestling it against his gold fang. “You can ask me anything you want to know and you know where I live. Robin? Want to come game with me for a bit?”

“Sorry, not tonight,” you apologized. “I’ve got something to take care of before I study for my tests tomorrow. Are you still okay with me waking you up tomorrow morning, though?”

“Fine with me,” Mutt shrugged. His red light flickered by way of a wink to you. He gave you and Butch a small wave as he sauntered towards the basement door and returned to his room. You could hear his lighter sparking and caught a faint whiff of sweet tobacco.

The gold color slowly faded from Butch’s skull as you quietly sat together. “it’s... a lot to… take in, isn’t it?” he softly asked. His fingers fidgeted with the holey cuff of his red hoodie. You gently took his hand to stop them before he made any holes bigger. Butch gave you a small, lopsided smile and squeezed your fingers in his. “it seems like… you get a lot of… this stuff, though.”

“I’m no expert,” you shrugged and rested your other elbow on the table top to prop your chin up on your hand. “I know a little about it because of the people I knew in high school. There are also groups on my campus that go around talking to people to spread awareness and understanding. I’ve learned a lot from them, too.”

“it doesn’t… bother you?” Butch asked, his white eye lights sneaking glances at your face.

“Not at all!” You said. He finally looked up and held your gaze. “I don’t care how anyone, or any of my partners, choose to identify. Love is love, you know?” Butch nodded and gave your hand another squeeze at those words. You briefly wondered if he was asking you that out of concern for Axe. “Hey, about earlier,” you said slowly, shifting uncomfortably as you thought about what you said. “I really am sorry. I didn’t mean to imply anything about color change.”

Butch shrugged and his thumb drifted idlily over the back of your hand. “it’s okay… Lily. I know… you were just trying… to understand.”

“I’m honestly kind of surprised something like that doesn’t exist for phis, though,” you said quietly, grateful once again for his understanding. “I mean, you guys use magic to manifest… that part of yourself. I don’t understand why that can’t change, too, depending on how you identify.”

“only males… manifest.” Butch said softly, his golden flush returning. “for us… monsters… I mean. Axe told me… females… don’t do that. it’s… already a physical… part of themselves. I don’t know… if it would be different… for a female skeleton,” he added thoughtfully, no doubt imagining the mother he never met, “but… my subspecies is… different than… most monsters… in a lot of things.”

“Yeah, that makes sense,” you nodded slowly. It must be draining for the guys to manifest, considering that most of them would pass out after a claim, but that could also just be physical exertion. If it did cost them magic, just like teleporting and summoning did, you couldn’t imagine the drain it would be for a female trying to carry a child and maintaining that summoned part of themself. Then again, the magical drain of creating a child was what made having a pack so necessary for monster alphas.

What would it be like for you, as someone who couldn’t use magic like a monster could?

“Lily…?” Butch tilted his skull at you. You shook the thought from your head.

“Just thinking…” you mumbled. You didn’t need to dwell on those kinds of thoughts at the moment. Deciding to change the subject, you said, “Um, I’m about to head upstairs to talk to Edge. Do you have any preference on the time of your lesson? Or anything else you want me to bring up to him for you?”

“oh…” Butch’s white eye lights widened slightly at the mention of Edge. You felt his grip tighten on your hand. “Lily you don’t… have to do this… for me…”

“You’ve said that,” you smiled and leaned against his shoulder to be close, “and I’ve already told you that I want to help since this was all my idea. Nothing has changed. Let me do this for you.”

“I know… how he can be…” Butch whispered, so quietly you almost didn’t hear. He nuzzled the top of your head and you felt the warmth of his breath from his nasal cavity against your hair. “anytime is fine… I guess. and all I want… is to not… break things when I… get nervous or… excited. everything else… would be nice, but… I can learn that… from Axe.”

“You can stop the lessons at any time. Remember that.” You watched his other hand come up and rest on your shoulder. You returned the loose hug, asking, “Do you want to walk me up?”

Butch nodded and you slowly rose to your feet together. You caught a strange flickering in his eye lights as you silently walked through the entry hall. His grip tightened on your hand while you climbed the wide, oak steps.

“Lily…?” his soft tone was barely a whisper at the top of the stairs. You turned towards him, silently questioning. “I… I know I can’t… fight him… but…” he gently tugged you a little closer. A gold flush bloomed over his nasal ridge. “but I… if he… hurts you… I want him to know… I’m going to… do something about it.” His breathing became erratic and you saw him shift nervously on his feet. His eye lights kept darting around your face as he stuttered, “I want t-to… protect you… so… c-can I… mark you?”

A smile tugged at your warm cheeks as you watched his color deepen. You gave him a nod of consent and watched his eye lights widen in surprise. Butch simply stared at you for a moment as he hesitated. Did he think he wouldn’t get this far? He knew you loved him and had kissed you before, hadn’t he?

You had to wonder, as you watched him shift nervously on his feet again, if he had ever actually marked you, though. Your weak human senses couldn’t pick up on those scent markers the brothers left. What if he thought he couldn’t protect you before? Would he have been able to mark you?

The nervous waiver of his white lights seemed to harden. Then he released your hand, grabbed both of your cheeks, and pulled you in to press his teeth against your lips. He sighed into you, letting you have a ghost of his taste, before his golden tongue licked hesitantly at your lower lip. You gladly let him in and pulled at his red hoodie to bring him closer. The taste of maple syrup danced over your tongue and you smiled at the warm sweetness.

Butch leaned into you, pushing you away from the stairs. His thumb drifted across the skin over your cheekbone as his other hand got lost in your hair. His kiss was still a little clumsy, but as he started to gain confidence and slowly pushed you towards the wall the steps of his dancing tongue became smoother.

Your back hit the wall and Butch stepped forward to hold you against it with his body. The fabric of his hoodie rose and fell as his breath quickened. A shiver ran through you as his fingers combed through your hair. There was a small moment you felt, where he hesitated again, and then he was gently turning your face to the side. He trailed soft kisses across your hot cheek and down your neck.

The first, gentle bite he gave you had your heart pounding in your chest with anticipation. Your fingers grabbed at his hoodie as another bite hit your soft spot and heat surged through your belly. His hand fell from your hair and traced its way from your shoulder down to your waist. He bit at your spot again, just a touch rougher, and you couldn’t stop a small moan from escaping your lips. His hand squeezed your waist and you felt his warm breath against your neck. Your hands slowly roamed over his back to feel the ripples his ribs made beneath the fabric. You warred with yourself, on whether or not to try and coax more from him, when Butch pulled away.

“I… n-need to stop…” he muttered, his white lights hazed and his cheekbones flushed gold. The look he gave you as his gaze roamed over your face told you that he really, really didn’t want to. “before I… break something…”

You nodded, breathless, and held his gaze. The haze of his lights spread and he lingered before he slowly pulled himself off of you.

All you could think of, in the small moment where you stared at each other, was of the things you’d do to him once he let you. Maybe he heard that lewd thought through your soul’s desire, because Butch let out an almost inaudible groan of want before he darted down the hall for his room.

You pressed your hand against your green sweater, your chest, to feel your heart as you tried to take deep breaths to slow your pulse. Something told you that your old trick of twisting your soft spot wouldn’t work anymore. Not when you had such good association with it now. You looked down the hall, towards Butch’s door where he had vanished. Seeing the line of other doors sent a small shiver through you. What if the others had heard how worked up you got? Would it cause jealousy issues?

Nobody came out. That helped calm you down. If anyone could hear your song of desire the most likely one to burst out into the hall would’ve been Red. That also depended on where he was after Axe dragged him off. Maybe Axe had taken him outside? Milord still wasn’t home and Mutt was downstairs so... That just left Pap, Sans, and Edge. Pap already knew of your intentions with Butch and approved, Sans didn’t care who you dated, and Edge didn’t like you like that. Everything was okay. 

You let out a sigh of relief and straightened your yoga pants; checked your socks were still pulled up. You pushed yourself off the wall and turned to count the doors. The color slowly drained from your face. Butch had pushed you up against the wall with Edge’s room on the other side. If anyone had heard your soul’s noise, it was him.

“Oh fuck,” you swore to yourself. That was pretty ballsy of Butch to not only mark you, but to make sure Edge heard it happen. When did Butch get so bold?

Hopefully, you prayed to yourself, Edge wasn’t going to be an ass about this. You rolled your eyes as you knocked on his door. If there was one thing you could count on with Edge, it was that he could be a major jerk about anything he wanted.

“Edge?” you called out, knocking again as your summons were met with silence. You raised a brow at the closed door. You tried knocking again but to no avail. “Really?” you huffed to the door, putting a hand on your hip. “That’s just rude. You could at least come insult me and let me know you don’t want to talk instead of ignoring me.”

Something about what you just said registered and you shook your head. If you were preferring an insult over silence, something might be wrong with you.

You sighed again and climbed the narrow stairs to your room. If you were going to wait for whenever Edge did want to talk, the least you could do was get some studying done. You paused as your hand slid over the light switch. The light had been left on.

The sight at the top of the steps made you still. The last thing you had ever expected was right there in front of you.

Edge was in your room. Standing nonchalantly at your bookshelf, reading.

Your jaw dropped. You stood there, watching and waiting for him to notice you, but his brow was furrowed in concentration and his red eye lights darted back and forth across the page.

Something changed. Maybe he finally registered the confused noise in your soul, maybe he smelled Butch’s mark, or maybe he finished the paragraph he was on. For whatever reason, Edge finally looked up from the book.

“TOOK YOU LONG ENOUGH,” he grumbled and slid the book back amongst its fellows. “YOU JUST LOVE TO WASTE MY TIME, DON’T YOU? DINNER ENDED AN HOUR AGO.”

“Sorry… we had some things to discuss,” you said slowly, still getting over the shock of seeing Edge quietly reading in your room. You didn’t know what you expected but you never thought he’d willingly set foot here. “Um… what were you reading?”

“SOME NONSENSE ABOUT AND ‘EGO AND ID’,” Edge said, making air quotes with his gloved fingers as you slowly approached him. “WHOEVER WROTE IT IS FULL OF THEMSELVES. I HAVEN’T HAD SOMEONE DRONE ON THAT LONG ABOUT SOMETHING SINCE I LAST LISTENED TO TINY.”

A small laugh escaped you. “Yeah, Yung’s writing is a bit convoluted. Did you… like it? The subject, I mean.” You wondered, silently to yourself, where Edge had learned to read. Red was illiterate - he definitely didn’t teach Edge.

“I ALREADY TOLD YOU IT’S NONSENSE.” Edge snapped. “THERE IS NO PART OF ONESELF THAT ONE IS NOT IN CONTROL OF. LOSS OF THAT CONTROL IS TEMPORARY. JUST LOOK AT MY IDIOT BROTHER AND HIS TEMPER. HE ACTS LIKE A DUMBASS AND THEN HE’S IN CONTROL OF HIMSELF AGAIN.”

“That’s not quite what the ‘ego and id’ are about,” you said. “They work in tandem to influence the self and balance instinctual desire with conscience. I have another printing, by Freud, and there’s this analogy in it about the ego being a rider and the id being a horse-”

“I DON’T CARE.” Edge interrupted bluntly. He folded his arms over his chest and glared down at you, effectively ending what had to have been your first civil conversation together. “STOP YIPPING, PET, AND TELL ME WHEN BUTCH WANTS HIS LESSON. I DON’T HAVE ALL NIGHT TO STAND UP HERE.”

“I know I’m late, but I didn’t make you come up here,” you grumbled, matching his stance.

“YOU’RE THE IDIOT WHO LEFT THEIR DOOR OPEN.”

“You still came up here on your own volition.”

“I DON’T LIKE TO BE KEPT WAITING, PET.”

“It doesn’t matter,” you huffed, moving towards your bed to take a seat. “The point is, we’re both here, and we don’t have to argue, so let’s-eeep!”

You jumped up from your bed the moment your butt hit an icy cold, wet patch. Edge’s sharp cackle filled the room as you felt the spot, and your backside, before remembering that Axe had gotten river water everywhere. He must’ve soaked your sheets when he flopped onto them.

You glared at Edge for taking joy in your discomfort. The cackle turned into a howl of laughter when he spotted your disgruntled look and, for a brief second, you caught the wince that silenced him. He unfolded his arms from his chest and let them rest on his hips.

“WHEN YOU’RE DONE BEING STUPID,” Edge’s tone cut through the silence, “GET TO THE POINT ALREADY.”

You eyed the loose, grey shirt he wore and wondered. The glare and scowl he gave you reminded you not to keep testing his patience, though, so you returned to the matter at hand. “We can discuss a time,” you mentally braced yourself for his response, “after we discuss how the lesson is going to go.”

“GET BENT.” Edge’s scowl grew and his eye lights narrowed to a thin line of angry impatience. “THIS LESSON IS GOING HOW I WANT IT TO GO. YOU DON’T GET TO TELL ME HOW TO DO ANYTHING, CONTROL FREAK.”

“I’m not being a control freak. I want to help make sure it goes well for the both of you,” you said stiffly, determined to not let him push you around. You held his glare even as you adjusted the wet material of your yoga pants to lessen your discomfort. Were you being a control freak? No, you didn’t care so much on the content of Edge’s lesson as you were how he went about getting it across. You just didn’t want anyone, mainly Butch, to get hurt. “I told you before, Butch can end these lessons whenever he wants. So if you want him to want to learn from you, you need to learn to be more gentle with him.”

“OR HE CAN LEARN TO GROW A SPINE!” Edge snapped at you, bending ever so slightly so he could spit words in your face. “DON’T THINK YOU’RE INVINCIBLE BECAUSE YOU WEAR HIS MARK, PET. I DON’T GIVE A SHIT.”

“All you need to do is just be nice!”

“I AM NOT NICE!”

“Then you better fucking learn!” you snapped back. “Remember that I’m the only one helping you right now? If you try to act like a bully to Butch during his lesson Axe and Red will be on you so fast it’ll make your skull spin!”

A peel of mocking laughter filled your room. “THAT’S HOW YOU WANT TO DO THIS, IS IT? YOU’RE GOING TO THREATEN ME TO GET WHAT YOU WANT?”

“No, I’m reminding you about the potential consequences of your actions! You know damn well that Axe won’t let you push Butch around. Remember your last little ‘talk’ with him? About teaching Butch in the first place? Remember what Red did when you decided to bully Butch in front of him?” You jabbed a finger at his face, growling, “If you want to get what you want, you have to give a little! You can’t do this without compromise!”

“ALL I SEE IS YOU MANIPULATING EVERY ONE OF MY BROTHERS.” Edge rolled his red eye lights at you and crossed his arms over his chest again. “I AM NOT SO EASILY INFLUENCED, PET. YOU HAVE NOTHING THAT I WANT.”

You pinched the bridge of your nose, trying to lessen your mounting frustration. Edge was always difficult, you knew that. You knew he liked having control of what was around him and you knew that he was probably in a bit more of a vulnerable state since the breech. He had lost his partner and, if that wince was anything to go by, was hiding some kind of injury. You needed to keep a level head and be patient. 

“I’m not manipulating anyone,” you said coolly. “Butch chose to take your lessons because he wants to learn control of his magic. Axe and Red chose to look out for him because they care about the well being of their little brother. For fuck’s sake, you’re trying to do the same thing as they are, but in a different way! And I’m choosing to try and work with you so that Butch gets what he wants, you don’t loose him as a student, and you don’t end up having Axe and Red after you if you scare him.”

“AND YOU,” Edge sneered, “MADE THEM THINK THAT’S WHAT THEY WANTED, DIDN’T YOU?” 

“No!” You threw your hands up in exasperation. Why was he so determined to think you were manipulating everyone? “I don’t control the people I love, or anyone else, for my own gain!” Deciding to get to the root of the problem, or at least closer to it, you turned the tables on him. “So what do you think I’m getting out of this, Edge? By helping you? What possible ulterior motive could I have?”

“I DON’T FUCKING KNOW, THAT’S WHY I DON’T TRUST YOU!”

“Don’t you think I’ve learned by now to leave you alone? With how you berate me and threaten me?”

“OBVIOUSLY NOT, BECAUSE YOU’RE THE DUMBEST PERSON I’VE EVER MET!”

“So, stupid or not, why the hell do you think I keep putting myself out there for you?”

“YOU TELL ME, PET!”

“Because I want the same thing you want! To take care of this family!” you shouted, tired of his blunt refusal to see that you weren’t out to get him. “You’re not the only one who cares about it or wants to protect it! Like it or not, you’re in this family so that includes you, too!”

Edge straightened up and his voice dripped venom, “I DON’T NEED YOUR PROTECTION.”

You buried your face in your hands. He was just too stubborn. The only way to get him to give, even a little, was to offer him something he wanted. Multiple ideas ran across the front of your mind, but none in particular seemed tempting enough. 

So why not just ask him?

“...what do you want?”

“EH?” Edge quirked a bony brow at you, taken by surprise.

“Tell me what you want from me,” you said, removing your hands to look up at him. “If you let me help you with these lessons, after they’re done, I’ll give you whatever we agree upon. But in exchange you have to at least try to listen to me and work with me until the lessons end. How’s that for a trade?”

Edge’s red lights flickered as he considered you. “ALL YOU WANT IS COOPERATION,” he said slowly, “AND I GET WHAT I WANT?”

“Yes. Almost any kind of favor you can think of. You don’t even have to decide on it now, but remember that we  _ both have to agree. _ ”

Edge contemplated you for a long moment. His red lights studied your face, the spot on your chest where your soul sat; and he ground his sharp teeth together.

“...DEAL.” Edge held out a hand to you. You looked at it, at him, questioning, and he simply scowled with impatience. He let you shake his hand, once, before pulling it away and wiping it on his black, silk pants. “LET’S GET THIS OVER WITH.”

You resisted the urge to roll your eyes at him. Curiosity filled you, since he hadn’t said what his side of the conditions were, but you weren’t going to press the issue further in the moment since he agreed to work with you. “Alright, then. Let’s start with the first lesson and how you teach Butch.”

“THERE’S NOTHING TO GO OVER. I’M TEACHING HIM CONTROL OF HIS NEW MAGIC. IF HE HAS HALF THE WIT YOU’RE DUMBASS HAS HE’LL BE FINE.”

A long, slow breath left you as you fought the knot of anger in your chest. If he insulted your intelligence one more time… “I remember you saying that I wouldn’t understand magic, and that’s fine. You don’t have to teach me about it. What we should focus on, primarily, is  _ how _ you teach  _ him. _ Butch is a sensitive guy. You, if you haven’t noticed, are rather intimidating. So if you want him to focus on your lesson, and not on you, using a more gentle approach would be most effective.”

Edge’s eye lights flattened at you, as if saying “you’re joking, right?”

“There’s a way to do this,” you continued, feeling a bit more confident, and calmer, now that he was listening without trying to butt heads. “I’ve thought about it, and I think we should try role play. We’ll pretend that I’m Butch and you can practice what you say and how you teach on me. I think I know him well enough to know how he’d react.”

“THAT IS,” Edge grumbled and pinched his nasal ridge, “THE MOST ASININE THING I’VE EVER HEARD OF.”

“Just try it,” you sighed. “You promised to cooperate.”

“NOT TO PLAY PRETEND!”

You quirked your brow at him. Edge pulled at his face, muttering under his breath. You caught words like “never again” before he looked at you over his fingers. He let out an annoyed growl before - “FINE!”

“Okay,” you let out a breath of relief. It was reluctant cooperation, but he was working with you all the same. That was a major victory. “We’re going to be outside, most likely, so put yourself there in your mind. See him in front of you. Now try going through some of what you want to say to him. And try to take this seriously. It’ll be over a lot faster if you do.”

Edge stared down at you, scowling. “ALRIGHT, ‘BUTCH’,” he made air quotes with his gloved fingers, “I’M SHOWING YOUR SPINELESS-”

“Nope,” you shook your head and looked at the wall. “Now I’m insulted and I’m looking to Axe for reassurance.”

Edge ground his sharp teeth together in frustration. “IF YOU REALLY WERE BUTCH YOU WOULDN’T SAY JACK SHIT, YOU COWARDLY-”

“Now I’m upset and don’t want to be near you.”

“UGGH, SHUT  _ UP _ YOU  _ STUPID _ PET!”

“Aaand now I’m done,” you huffed, glaring up at him. “If you can just manage to not insult him, that would do wonders.”

“OH, FUCK YOU, YOU ANNOYING LITTLE SHIT!”

It didn’t go very well from there. Edge kept trying his opening, just a simple intro and segway into the main topic, but he just couldn’t do it without some kind of insult or mild jab at you or ‘Butch’. It didn’t help that he was becoming more and more frustrated with each failed attempt. At least, you thought to yourself after the dozenth time, he was trying.

“NO, FUCK THIS, I’M DONE!” Edge threw his hands up in the air and stomped in a circle around you, trailing the smell of gasoline behind him. “THIS IS SO FUCKING REDUNDANT I CAN’T EVEN-!”

He winced again; his words cut off as a particularly exaggerated movement caused him discomfort. A dark spot bloomed on his shirt over his ribs and he quickly covered it with his hand. Though you were already reaching your mental limit, from willingly taking his verbal onslaught, you felt a small worry stir that chased some of that anger away. You had scrubbed that stubborn color out of the floor and wall and knew what it was.

“Why don’t I go get Pap?” you offered quietly, uncrossing your arms for the first time in ages. You started to reach for Edge, reminded yourself he hated being touched, and let your arms fall to your side. “You’ve been home for awhile. Why haven’t you asked him to heal you yet? You could’ve done it at dinner.”

“I’M FINE.” Edge growled, glaring at you. “I DON’T NEED HIM.”

“Then why do you keep wincing?” you asked, raising a brow. “For as much as you tell me that I am, I’m not stupid. Or blind.”

“SHUT UP, PET.”

“No, I’m not going to shut up!” you stomped your foot and glared back. “Dammit, Edge, if you’re hurt  _ you’re _ the fucking idiot for not going to the one-in-a-million healer that  _ lives with you!” _

“THERE’S NO POINT,” his sharp tone was heavy with impatience, “DON’T YOU GET IT, PET? PAPYRUS HAS NEVER CONSENTED TO HEAL ME!”

“Have you ever asked him? That doesn’t sound like that Pap I know.”

“I DON’T NEED TO. HE’S MADE IT CLEAR HE WON’T USE HIS POWER ON ME!”

“Maybe he would if you didn’t constantly beat up his brothers!” you growled, then immediately regretted the words at the look of dark vehemence he gave you. “Look, I…” you sighed, wishing that you could take back what you said even though it was true. You had already seen the cracks Edge had caused on both Sans’ and Red’s skulls. What else had he done before you ever lived here?

But now was not the time to remind Edge of his faults. He was hurt, badly if the dust was anything to go by, and his distrust of others had caused him to hide it. Softly, you pleaded, “Can you just show me?”

“WHY DO YOU CARE?” Edge crossed his arms over his chest to hide the growing dark spot, his red lights flickering, as his body language made it clear he had no intention of showing you.

“You want to teach, right?” you said, trying to keep your tone as gentle as possible, given the impatience you were fighting within yourself. “That’ll be difficult if you have limited movement. Come on, Edge, the others are going to notice if you don’t do something about this. At least let me see so maybe I can try binding them or something. Or-” you added quickly the moment his sharp teeth parted to protest, “I can teach you to do it, if you’re so against me touching you.”

“IF YOU’LL DROP THE FUCKING SUBJECT, FINE.” Edge spat. He grabbed the hem of his shirt, glancing at you as he hesitated. You had just a brief moment to see the spot on the fabric again before he pulled off the long sleeved, charcoal grey shirt he wore.

It was like staring at Red’s scars, only without the silver. There were multiple, clear impact points where Edge had been hit and cracks covered his ribs. You felt your breath leave you, like someone had punched you in the gut, at the sight and put a hand over your mouth.

“Oh, Edge…” you mumbled to your fingers, your gaze tracing a rather large crack in his sternum that leaked dust onto the wood floor.

“DON’T YOU FUCKING DARE,” Edge hissed. “I DON’T NEED YOUR PITY.”

“It’s not pity-” you bit your lip. You had no idea how to help this. The most you assumed was there was one wound - the one that leaked dust. Not this kind of damage. Your eyes darted towards your plants. Their magic could heal you, but not him in the same way. No wonder he hadn’t slept for hours on end like Mutt had. How could he, with injuries like this?

He really, really needed Pap’s help. But he’d never ask for it, you knew that.

“Do you want me to ask Pap for you?” you offered again. You couldn’t fix this with a bit of medical tape. There was no way. He needed healing magic.

“HELL NO. I TOLD YOU HE WON’T HEAL ME.” Edge added bitterly, “AND YOU ALREADY KNOW WHY.”

Your eyes looked over your plants again, the blue and red echo flower, and an idea struck you. “Keep your shirt off,” you said quickly, darting over to your dresser, “and sit on the floor.” Edge gave you a very confused look as you picked up the empty cup from your dead garlic. “I know you don’t, but… please trust me just this once. Give me five minutes and then I won’t bring this up ever again.”

“WHAT ARE YOU DOING?” Edge asked, his eye lights flickering again as you clutched the cup to your chest and darted towards the stairs.

“Trying something. Don’t worry, I’ll come back alone,” you said vaguely. Hopefully his curiosity would keep him there while you attempted this. 

Pap didn’t answer your knocks at his door right away. Then again, you thought as you glanced out the dark window, it was very late at night. You looked over the caution tape covering his door and knocked again.

“OH, HI HONEY,” Pap yawned as he finally answered. He opened his door to you and rubbed at the corner of his sockets. He wore only orange and yellow striped silk pants and his red mitts. “WHY ARE YOU UP SO LATE?”

“I’m working on some stuff,” you shrugged, trying to keep away from specifics. “You’re doing okay, right?”

“HUH? YEAH,” Pap mumbled sleepily. The foggy, white lights in his sockets struggled to stay lit as they looked down at you. “WHY?”

“Just making sure everything’s fine,” you said quickly, knowing you needed to hurry before Edge vanished from your room. Despite that, you still wanted to check in with Pap after overhearing his fight with Sans. “Listen, um, I know it’s late and this is a weird request but… could I have some of your magic?”

You held the cup out to him. Anxiety crept in as you wondered if this would work or not. Their plasma dissipated so quickly... Would it have been better if you had found a jar? 

Pap stared at the cup, his foggy eye lights flickering with confusion. “IS THIS, UH, FOR ONE OF YOUR EXPERIMENTS?”

“Yeah,” you nodded. It was an experiment, that’s for sure.

“WELL, OKAY, THEN.” Pap scratched at the corner of his jaw and yawned again. “JUST HURRY WITH WHATEVER IT IS YOU’RE TRYING TO DO. EVEN IF YOU COVER THE CUP MY MAGIC WON’T LINGER FOR LONG.”

You nodded eagerly and felt yourself buoy with hope that this could work. Pap reached out, pulled at the cuff of his mitten, and orange plasma poured free to fill the cup. The smell of brown sugar tickled your nose. When the cup was full to the brim, you slapped your palm over it to try and preserve the plasma.

“Thanks, love you,” you said, stood on your toes to peck his teeth with a kiss, and raced back to your room. Time was not on your side.

Edge sat on the floor with one knee up, his elbow resting on it. His back was against the wall and he stared out the corner of his socket. His red gaze looked out of the circular window at the black woods, but his skull turned and his eye lights widened as you sped up the steps towards him.

“Move your arms if you don’t want me to touch you!”

He didn’t move, so you didn’t feel bad about pushing his bony arm out of the way before throwing the contents of the cup all over his rib cage. His sharp teeth parted, no doubt to shout at you, but he remained silent. His gaze fell to his chest as the smell of brown sugar reached him.

Most of the orange plasma did not survive the short trip. What little that did ended up soaking into his broken bones at the contact. You bent at your waist to study the smallest of the cracks as they slowly knit, healed by the sugary magic. The larger ones remained but they looked much studier and less likely to have a clean break if he exerted himself.

“At least the big one on your sternum stopped leaking dust,” you mumbled, watching as the healing stopped without more magic to fuel it. “That’s something, at least.”

You looked up and caught the bewildered look Edge was giving you. His red lights flickered and his brow crinkled with confusion. His jaw hung open ever so slightly with the words he couldn’t say.

“He doesn’t know it was for you,” you said, answering what you hoped was the silent question written on his skull. “He thinks it was for an experiment and, well, it kind of was. I had no idea if this would work at all.”

“...WHY?” Edge finally asked, his sharp tone blunted. His eye lights searched your face for the answer.

“If I couldn’t ask Pap, I had to try something,” you shrugged and stood back up. With him sitting on the ground, it was Edge who finally looked up at you. “You’re an ass, Edge, but you don’t deserve to carry around pain like that.”

He turned his gaze down towards his somewhat healed bones. The room was silent again.

“Does it still hurt?” you asked quietly, worried by his lack of cutting words. “I can go ask Pap for more. He probably won’t come up if it’s just one more cup. If you sit near the stairs, maybe more of the plasma would survive-”

“...WHAT HURTS,” Edge mumbled, “IS WATCHING YOU TRY.”

You blinked, not quite catching the quiet words over your own thoughts. “What did you say?”

“I SAID I’M DONE,” Edge growled, though it was weaker than what he normally produced, and stood up. He let out another growl, one that shook his ribs, and quickly stopped when the movement aggravated the injuries that remained. Instead, the pulled his shirt back on and snapped, “FUCK THIS. I’M DONE AND I’LL FIGURE YOUR BULLSHIT OUT A DIFFERENT NIGHT.”

Then he vanished from your sight. Only the smell of gasoline lingered.

A groan escaped you and you pressed the heels of your palms into your eyes. That whole thing with Edge could’ve gone so much better. You knew he was hurting, you knew he was recovering from whatever hell he fought through with the breech and the Ferals, but you had still let him get under your skin.

Granted, he had tried at the end to work with you, but why did you offer him anything he wanted? You had made sure to put in the condition that you both had to agree, but you should’ve still kept a cool head and made sure you knew what he would ask for.

And to top it off, he left before you could set a time for the lesson.

“At least he got healed a little bit,” you mumbled to yourself, toeing the dust Edge had left on the floor. You had been right, he  _ was _ the type to hide things like that. The fact that he had hidden injuries so severe both angered and worried you. Did he really think Pap would turn him away? You had a very hard time believing Pap would do that. You could understand why he would, but Pap was the type to forgive. He didn’t hold grudges as far as you knew. 

The butt of your pants was still damp and you took the moment of privacy to change. A pair of Mutt’s sweatpants always ended up in your laundry, somehow, and you gratefully swapped into those along with a pair of black, thigh-high socks to cover your scarred feet. You glanced at your bed, your damp yoga pants and workout socks in hand, and let out a small sigh. The bedding sure as hell wasn’t going to be dry in a few hours when you wanted to sleep. Mutt would definitely be passed out by now so throwing it in the dryer would have to wait until tomorrow. Maybe you should just wash everything. Undyne and her brother were supposed to visit once Milord returned and you had yet to prepare your room for their arrival. You hadn’t forgotten that you told Sans they could stay in the attic while they were here. You needed to move your garlic experiment outside, hide the echo flower and your lock box...

You shook any lingering thoughts of Edge from your mind and shouldered your backpack. One thing at a time. You could deal with your room and chase Edge down tomorrow. Right now, you had exams to prep for. Sitting on the floor of your room to study did not sound very comfortable, so you headed back downstairs to study. 

A thought occurred to you as you descended the oak steps. If your bed was soaked, where were you going to sleep tonight?

The couch? No, you knew you could crawl into bed with your betas and they wouldn’t be upset. That sounded a lot nicer than the couch. You had already woken Pap up and didn’t want to keep bothering him… Axe would be glad to have you with him, but he was probably sleeping next to Butch like he usually did and you didn’t want to talk about Edge any more tonight. Milord (you felt a pang of loneliness tighten your chest) still wasn’t home. Mutt might be the best choice. He did also agree to spend the morning with you…

A glance at the analog clock on the stove made you wince. Edge had taken up more time than you anticipated. (Was that a good thing?) The paper for abnormal psych was already done, and you were pretty confident in that subject, so you devoted only an hour’s time to study review. You knew the subject, but you still wanted a perfect score. This subject was what you were going to focus on after you got your bachelor’s degree and went for your master’s.

Also, you wanted to put off your worst subject - calculus.

You let your head fall to the table with a soft bang after opening the math book. Once again, you were longing for Milord’s presence in the house. You side eyed the list of equations, willing his frosty voice to speak to you and explain, before pushing yourself up and reluctantly starting on the problems alone.

The house was blissfully quiet as the clock ticked away the hours of the night. Edge must be avoiding you, but you were slightly grateful for the break from him. Your math studies went slightly better than you had anticipated. It could’ve been that you were in your usual study area with Milord and had the benefit of association with the space. Or it could’ve been him drilling you on how to solve each and every problem in prior study times. 

An equation with that stupid E, the epsilon, presented itself. You stared down at the small letter. Nothing came to mind. No solution, no explanation, no whisper of a frosty voice in your ear giving you a hint on how to proceed. Just a blank in your mind and a dull ringing in your ears. You laughed bitterly and wondered if it would help if you chewed mint gum.

That little thought, of how to summon even a piece of him (even if it was his taste,) was enough to send you into frustrated tears. The day with Axe had been beautiful, but it wasn’t enough to fully counterbalance your difficulties with Edge, your exam anxiety, and the painful ache of worry you had as Milord continued to be absent night after night. It was nearly one in the morning. If he wasn’t home by now he wouldn’t be home until tomorrow. Or the day after. Who knew? Mutt had said Milord would be home ‘soon’, but when was that? By the weekend? The middle of next week? What if spring break passed and he still hadn’t come back? You wanted to play chess and find out what books and movies he might like.

You sniffed loudly and wiped your face on your sleeve. You had to study. You owed it to all the time Milord spent tutoring you to not give up. You had to do well on your exam tomorrow. So much of your grade depended on it.

Still. If you could just have something, some small piece to help guide you, that would do it. You didn’t have any mint candy or tea. It was cool outside, but a glance outside the window above the sink showed you the lawn lacked the sparkle of frost beneath the crescent moon. You got up from the table, opened the silver doors, and stuck your head in the freezer. The cold made you shiver, but it smelled like fridge and that didn’t help spark any inspiration. Was there really a brand named ‘Nice Cream’?

You shut the fridge back up and stared across the room at your books.

A small thought occurred to you.

What if you studied in his room?

Milord always locked his room up. But he hadn’t been the last to leave it - you were. You never locked the door again after leaving, right?

You bit your lip and shifted back and forth on your feet. Milord was very much a private person. Would he get upset with you if you went in without asking?

It’s not like you were going in there to look through anything. You just wanted to be where he had been.

The books on the table were quickly swept back into your bag. Taking care to turn off lights behind you, you headed back up the oak steps and down the hall. Milord’s door was easy to find - it was just to the left of Pap’s.

The brass handle clicked softly at your touch. The door swung quietly into the dark interior. You took a single, hesitant step inside and flicked on the light. It was just how you left it. The bed was still neatly made in charcoal grey sheets. The handsome, wooden desk was on the far wall below the blue and black lined topography map, and the wall of medals were just as untouched. You shut the door behind you and glanced at the line of metal filing cabinets on the same wall. Curiosity struck you and you wandered over to them.

_ “Don’t touch my files.” _ his voice echoed in your mind, halting your hand midair. You withdrew the touch, reminding yourself that you didn’t come here to be nosy, and went to the desk. Once there, you also resisted the urge to look in his desk drawers. You had everything you needed in your bag and his trust meant more to you than what you might discover with a little snooping.

It felt as though nearly another hour passed while you stared at the study sheet of equations. You thought that being here, in his leather upholstered swivel chair at his mahogany desk, would help you focus. It had quite the opposite effect. It just made you want to cry again.

With your chest tight, you quit staring at the unsolvable problems you had. It was late and you needed rest for your exams. You got up, stared longingly at Milord’s bed, and shut off the lights. You knew where you wanted to spend the night. 

Flopping onto the bed, you quickly burrowed yourself beneath the cool sheets and stuffed your face into his pillow. His pillow, you noted with a small smile and burning eyes as you hugged it to you, smelled faintly of frost and menthol.

~~~

You squirmed uncomfortably in your sleep, caught between a dream and reality. Did you leave the window open? There was a cold draft on the back of your neck.

Rolling over, you shrugged the sheets up to cover the chilled skin and sighed back into the warm touch that tugged at your waist, chasing that dream again. The draft hit your face and you scrunched up your nose as the smell of menthol tickled it.

Your eyes cracked open and you grumbled irritably to yourself. You didn’t want to shut a damn window, you wanted to stay here, where it was warm and-

Hands tightened around you and pulled you back against his sleeping form. A mumble of deep Font, like cracking lake ice, left him in his sleep. Your eyelids shot open as realization dumped a bucket of ice water on your groggy brain.

Milord was home.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, I hope that I did well with representing different identities and sexualities among monster culture. Please, though, keep in mind that this is a story and monsters aren’t the same as humans. I did my best to make it inclusive to all and still keep to what made sense for the storyline. And, just in case Mutt’s explanation was a little confusing, (I tried,) here’s a little list that I thought might make it easier to understand at a glance.  
> Alpha (dom born female who can breed)   
> -Delta (sub born/phi female)  
> -Beta (sub born/phi male)
> 
> Gamma (dom born/phi male or female)   
> -Omega (sub born/phi male)  
> -Kappa (sub born/phi female)
> 
> Theta (dom born/phi male)   
> -Rho (sub born/phi female)
> 
> Phi - A transgender/non-binary individual who does not align, either somewhat or entirely, with their born gender.   
> Someone who identifies solely as phi can use any of the above titles save for alpha (unless they are a non-binary, born female who still wishes to breed.)   
> Kappa, Delta, Rho, and Gamma are titles taken by females who will not, or can’t, breed.
> 
> If anything on this list is unclear, feel free to drop me a comment and I will do my best to explain! If you ask something that I plan on explaining later in the story I will let you know that your answer is coming. :) 
> 
> And yes, all the boys are allies. <3


	38. Ch 35 - Homecoming

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey all, a new chapter! :D (Man, even without the bonus chapters, this story's getting long, isn't it? I hope you lovelies don't mind at all. There's so much to do with nine main characters and their development. :T)
> 
> Anyway, hope you enjoy it! And thanks to all those who showed love over on my insta when I announced I was going through some stuff that made writing a little touch and go. I'm doing well at the moment, but if any more life happens I'll post more updates on insta. So check it out! :D The link is at the bottom of the chapter.
> 
> Stay hydrated and have a beautiful day! Thank you for reading! <3

Ch 35 - Homecoming

  
  


The icy chill of his breath tickled your face as you watched him, wide eyed and frozen in place lest you wake him up with the smallest movement. Slowly, you looked over him while you laid there on your side. If it wasn’t for the frost clinging to the hairs on the back of your neck, you might’ve thought you were dreaming.

Milord when he was sleeping looked so… different. The bone on his brow was now smooth, not crinkled from constant thought. Normally his shoulders were stiff from keeping his chest out and his head held high, but now they rested in a slight S-bend from lying on his side. His sharp teeth were no longer turned down in a near-constant disapproving frown and you spotted, with a barely suppressed giggle, the little bit of lavender plasma that pooled at the corner of his mouth. The plasma dissipated into the air before it fell to his pillow and you caught the smell of mint on the air. Milord shifted on his side, to tug your body a little closer, and murmured again in deep, crackling Font. He liked to sleep, you noted with a small smile, with one arm tucked under his pillow to prop up his skull.

He never looked more at ease.

Your brows furrowed with worry as your searching gaze found a new mark on his skull. It was slight, and would be barely visible at a great distance, but since you were inches from his face you could see the deep scratch in the bone that started just below his right socket. It crossed over his mouth, nicking his sharp teeth, and didn’t end until it reached the bottom of his left jaw. Your eyes darted to his old scar, the slash running vertically over his left socket, and wondered if he had gotten that one the same way he obtained the new one. By fighting Ferals.

A flutter of panic flew through you as your brain flashed the images of Edge’s injury across your mind. You lifted the charcoal colored sheets immediately to search for any cracks or dust on Milord.

He was, thankfully, shirtless. The bones of his ribs were smooth to your touch and unmarred save for your mark on his collarbone; but even that was starting to fade. A sigh of relief escaped you to find him free of injury and you noticed, now that your brief panic had passed, that Milord wasn’t wearing anything at all. Your face flushed bright red and you lowered the sheets to cover him. You rested your burning face against his sternum, wondering what had possessed him to come to bed  _ naked. _

“Is something the matter?”

You glanced up at Milord’s sleepy, yet somehow still stern, tone. His sockets were cracked open and he eyed you with foggy, purple eye lights. The edges of his lights sharpened at an almost dizzying speed as he woke and the familiar crinkle of thought returned to his bony brow.

“Zeta?” He inquired again when you didn’t answer immediately. The frown forming on his skull quirked up at the corners when he finally registered your red face and the sound of embarrassment coming from your soul. A low chuckle escaped him. He removed his hand from your waist to tilt your face up with a gentle, guiding knuckle beneath your chin. “Did you recall that I did not give you permission to sleep here?”

“You, um, never specifically said that I couldn’t,” you mumbled, your face on fire at the double whammy. He was naked  _ and _ you were possibly in trouble.

“Indeed,” he hummed. You glanced down at his wrist as his fingertip teased the soft flesh under your jaw. The touch was that of hard bone, not soft leather. He wasn’t wearing his usual gloves, either. 

“I didn’t look through anything!” you said quickly, hoping to defend yourself. “I-I came in here to work on my calculus and then went to bed, that’s all! I didn’t look through your files, or your desk, or-”

“Under my bed?” he interrupted with a quirked brow.

“W-what’s under your bed?” you asked in a small voice. The cabinets were full of files for the Guard, you guessed that much. What could he possibly be hiding under his bed? Did he have a lock box, like you, full of secrets?

“If you feel it necessary to ask, then it is apparent you took no such action.” Milord’s knuckle moved from your chin so he could press a finger to your parting lips, silencing you. “Calm yourself, Zeta. If I did not want anyone in here I would have secured my room before I left. I am also aware that you heeded my warning and did not attempt to invade my privacy. You lack any evidence of frostbite to suggest otherwise.”

“Why would I have frostbite?” you asked, quirking a brow at him.

Milord gave you a devilish grin. “My residence harbors a known criminal. Are you suggesting I am not the type to take precautions?”

“I know you’re cautious,” you said slowly, shifting with Milord as he laid on his back. He moved his arm out from beneath his pillow to hold your shoulders and you nestled your head as comfortably as possible against his bony clavicle. “But I don’t understand what frostbite has to do with anything.”

A low, thoughtful hum escaped Milord as he considered you. The hand he had at your back started to trace small circles across your sweater and, through the material, the scars across your back shoulder. “There are other ways to secure something than with just a metal lock, Zeta,” Milord said vaguely. “Locks can be picked. I also have the unfortunate circumstance of having a family who can step through the void to reappear in any location they have been before. If I wish to keep my space private, and my documents confidential, I must resort to other means.”

“You mean… like a magical trap?” You let the weight of your head rest fully against his collarbone and brought your hand up to brush your thumb over his nearly faded mark. The wording he used, and the warning of frostbite, helped lead you to that conclusion. You already knew his magic was ice. Pap had also told you once before that monsters built traps, mainly for protection. Was it possible Milord had figured out how to make one out of magic instead of machinery? 

Milord didn’t answer your question, but his purple eye lights glowed with approval. A small sigh of acceptance left you when he did not elaborate further. “You can’t tell me more than that, can you?” you mumbled softly. “I understand… if you tell me how you keep things locked up that makes me a security risk, doesn’t it?” 

“It is as you say,” he said simply. If he wanted you to know exactly what he did, he would tell you. Or he had felt you already had enough information to figure it out on your own.

“So you’re not mad I’m in here?” you asked meekly and he shook his skull at you. That knot of unease slowly unraveled as Milord chuckled and pressed a skeleton kiss to your forehead.

“Far from it, my dear,” he murmured, his breath chilling your skin. “I was cognizant of your presence here the moment I crested the landing. I’ve heard that particular frustrated keening in your soul enough times during your tutelage to assume your activity and whereabouts.”

“Wait, you got home when I was studying and you didn’t let me know?” you glared at him and your lips became a thin line of anger. “I’ve been worried sick about you!”

“I am well aware,” Milord said coolly, moving his warm hand over your cheek and thumbing the top of your twitching jaw. “The entire reason I did not seek you out upon my return, despite your note requesting that action, was that I was seeing to my recovery. The well of magic in my soul was dangerously depleted and needed to be replenished to aid in the reversal of my exhausted state. Which, I must admit, I appreciate your forethought on that matter. The culinary arts were never a thing I devoted much effort to.” 

Milord gave you a small nod of approval at his mention of the leftovers you made sure were there.

“Well, why didn’t you find me after you ate?” you grumbled. 

“Exhaustion does not justify laziness. I refuse to remain covered in filth.” Milord pointed at the filing cabinet nearest the door where a white towel had been neatly draped over the side to dry. “After cleansing the residual dust from my more inaccessible crevices, I also had to seek out Papyrus to tend to my injuries.”

You sighed, letting your anger fade with that exhaled breath. While you would have liked to have seen him the moment he got home, you were thankful that he had taken care of himself. You reached out to him and gently ran your thumb over the bottom of the new scar on his jaw. “Why didn’t you let Pap heal that one?”

“It is already a well known injury among my guardsmen,” Milord shrugged the opposite shoulder so as to not disturb your resting head. “The more debilitating injuries were far easier to conceal and Sans requested that I not flaunt Papyrus’ abilities. Thus, only the concealed wounds were healed. This small mark will become but another scar that, if anything, will only increase the respect my underlings have of me. It will remind them with every glance of it that I do not hide behind a desk merely distributing orders. I fight on the ground with my forces and I am not a monster that can be easily dusted.”

You pulled Milord into you for a bone crushing hug. It hurt to hear him admit that he was actually there in the thick of it all. It was hard enough assuming that he had fought from the bits and pieces you could put together during his absence. More images, borne of your lingering anxiety, of Edge’s injuries on Milord flashed unbidden across your mind. Your eyes burned and you forced them shut as you buried your face against his sternum. At least Milord had the sense to ask for help and seek out healing.

“I’m so glad you’re home,” you choked out, well aware that you were crying from relief and the full weight of reality hitting you. Though, guessing by the slight stiffening of Milord’s frame, he was taken aback by your display of emotion. Couldn’t he hear from your soul that you were so glad he was finally,  _ finally, _ back? “W-when you didn’t come home with Edge I-”

“Edge is merely a specialist with the rank of lieutenant. He acts independently of the rest of the Guard and does not oversee his own squadron,” Milord said calmly. He didn’t seem to know what to do now that you were crying, so he held you somewhat awkwardly as you sniffled in his arms. His cool, even tone did help soothe your frayed nerves a bit and you wiped your eyes on his sheets while you listened quietly to him. 

Milord took your silence as a good sign and continued. “Once the objective was completed he was allowed to return home. That is not the case with my own position. As Captain, I formulate the assignments my underlings carry out. The commands I made regarding the aftermath see to the redistribution of forces and ensure the follow through on maintaining our current equilibrium in the area. I am the one who must write up numerous reports for the Queens explaining my own decisions, the foreseen consequences they effectuate, and any future countermeasures I wish to pursue. These are a few reasons for my delayed return.”

Your eyes continued to leak slightly despite your best efforts to stop them. The slight squirm Milord made beneath you more than showed he didn’t know what else to do to comfort you. It was more than you could ever hope for that he could give you details on what happened at the breach. The vague bits of information he gave you were the best he could do while maintaining secrecy.

A small chuckle escaped you when you remembered Red and his reaction to your happy tears. It was a little endearing that those two didn’t seem to understand that people could cry when they felt positive emotion, too. 

“Did I inform you that I was given temporary leave of absence?” Milord gently offered to try and calm you down further. “I… reluctantly accepted it. It is only for a few days, but I could not see you being very pleased if I denied it. The last thing I want after one battle is to invite another.”

“You took time off?” Your wet eyes widened in shock.

Milord nodded. “Queen Cinn offered to put my immediate plans for the Guard in motion while I recovered. It was, as she put it, enough of a physical and mental drain on my part to combat the enemy without pause. She was attempting to convince me to utilize a week, but I found that grossly excessive.” A small scowl found its way onto his skull. “I’m expected to return to duty in three days, thought that is still far too much-”

“My spring break starts soon! We could spend so much time together!” You squealed in delight and tried to crush his ribs with another hug. If there was one thing he could’ve done to make you feel better, it was to take care of himself. Mutt would never believe you when you told him he actually took time off. “And I swear to god, Milord, if you try to work while you’re off duty-!”

“I have absolutely no intention of being idle,” Milord huffed in your ear. You pulled away from the embrace and glared daggers at him. The look only made him smirk. “Fret not, Zeta. While I am not so adept at lazing about as some of my other brothers, I have an idea of how to pass my time constructively. Your expansive collection of literature is but one thought.”

“I’ve been wanting to play some more chess with you, even if you always beat me,” you grinned. “Or we could try watching a movie. I’ve been wanting to figure out what kinds you like, so I can get more. What do you read for fun? I can stop at the mall and pick some more books up since I need to go anyway. And we could-”

“If you permit me to interrupt,” Milord stopped your rambling with an amused smirk and a bony finger to your lips. “I have an idea of where to begin my leisure time.”

“What’s that?” you asked against the digit. He let his fingertip gently fall and the tip of it tugged at your bottom lip. You quirked your brow curiously at the gesture.

“I’ll offer you a hint,” Milord said slyly. “What do you think a male, fresh from conquest, who has been well fed, healed, and somewhat rested, wants after returning home to find his mate awaiting him in bed?”

A warmth rose to your cheeks as he held eye contact. Even as you watched, the purple lights in his sockets hazed ever so slightly. “Milord, are you… flirting with me?”

“Is it successful?” he purred, trailing his fingertip from your lips and down your neck. His lights hazed a bit further with the motion. You gave him a small nod and the sharp toothed smile he gave you had your stomach doing backflips.

“Is that why you slept naked?” you asked teasingly, drawing his now wandering gaze back up to your eyes. Milord rarely initiated intimacy, but damn if he wasn’t an all or nothing kind of guy when he did.

He hummed and gave you the ghost of a kiss against your lips. Your heart fluttered with anticipation and the arms you still had around him pulled at him, to chase his kiss, but he dodged you and went for the crook of your neck. You could feel him trace your contours with the point of his nasal cavity. His cold breath chilled your skin as he took in your scent.

A gentle touch trailed down to your chest and he impatiently tugged at the collar of your sweater. A shiver ran down your spine from the touch of his cold tongue on your earlobe.

“D-do you want me on top?” you asked, breathless, when he started teasing the soft spot on your neck with the points of his sharp teeth. “If you’re t-to tired…”

“Far from it.” Milord nipped at the spot where he had teased. You let out a small gasp, a rush of heat racing towards your belly from the sting of it. He quickly clapped a hand over your mouth to stifle the beginnings of your noise. “Try to contain yourself during our claim,” he whispered in your ear. “The brick walls stifle the sound of conversation and will muffle the noise of your soul somewhat, though we lack the distance of the attic to maintain privacy. The rest of the house will not wake if you do not express yourself too vocally.”

That was easy for him to say. He barely made any noise the last time you had been intimate together. You couldn’t help the sounds that slipped out when you were excited, just like you couldn’t help the song of desire singing in your soul. 

You nodded to show you understood that you had to try. Milord grinned and gently pushed you onto your back, climbing on top of you. He nipped your neck again, just below the site of the first bite, and soothed your skin with cool touches of his glowing, lavender tongue. Though he lacked lips, he found a rhythm with his teeth and tongue to mimic sucking at your favorite spot. You laced your fingers between his back ribs and turned your head, trying to kiss him, but he dodged you again.

Not liking this teasing game, you grabbed both sides of his skull and stole the kiss you had been after. He melted into you immediately and let you have what you wanted. You traced your tongue across the bottom of his sharp teeth to silently ask for entrance. His fingers tangled themselves in your hair, his sharp teeth parting so his cool tongue could dance around yours and leave you chilled with the taste of menthol. His other hand snaked up your shirt, finding your breasts, and he mercilessly teased your sensitive spots. You moaned into his mouth, unable to stop that noise from leaving you. His grip on your breast tightened, reminding you to stay silent, but that slightly rough touch only increased your thrill. One of your hands drifted away from his skull and you ran your nails down his spine, delighting in the shiver he couldn’t hide from you. 

Now that you had caught him, your other hand drifted down to the wing of his pelvis to tease with similar attention. You smirked against him as you felt his low hum of want against your lips. Milord tugged again at your sweater, unwilling to break the kiss to ask for its removal. You reluctantly withdrew your touches so he could pull it off you and toss it to the floor. He didn’t leave you waiting for his kiss, his taste, and quickly returned.

His hand left your chest to find your hip. You parted your legs to let him settle against you. Another small moan escaped you and he bit your lip, reminding you to be quiet, as he started to grind his pelvis against your hips - feeding your building want. You could already feel the barrier of your sweatpants growing slick between you and dug your fingertips into his shoulder blades in your effort to stay silent.

Without warning he broke the kiss to move his attention down to your chest. The chill of his cool tongue swirling over the sensitivity of your breasts gave you goosebumps. You arched your back into him as he teased you with the points of his teeth and he reached down to adjust your legs. He moved them to sit comfortably up on either side of his pelvis and you caught the soft glow of his gathering excitement starting to show beneath the dark sheets.

You tugged at his ribs and Milord glanced up at you. You tugged again and he left your chest to return to you, to kiss you, and you rewarded him by testing the waters first. You ran your hand along the wing of his pelvis, earning a small groan of appreciation from him. Then you let your hand slip to the front of his hips. The unformed plasma was cool and feathery to the touch. He pulled away from the kiss, his skull flushed with lavender.

The clatter of bone against bone echoed around the room as he clapped a hand over his mouth to muffle his own surprised, delighted noise. He thrust the front of his pelvis into your palm and you smirked, watching his purple eye lights glitch like static on a tv. You gently fluttered your fingers against the plasma, enjoying this reaction immensely - the moans he muffled, the sight of his color deepening across his cheekbones, and the shudders of pleasure that tore through his body. The sound of fabric popping reached your ears as he dug his bony fingers into the mattress in an attempt to contain himself.

Suddenly, he grabbed both of your hands and pinned them by your head. He hung his skull, panting. The icy mist of his breath fell across your bare chest while he hovered over you. A moment passed while he let himself calm down a little. “You little deviant,” he growled quietly, lifting his head to give you a purple, hazy-light glare. “If I am to achieve climax, then it will be while hilted inside of you. Understood?”

“So that is a good spot?” you asked cheekily. Milord let out another small growl. He released your hands, reached for your waist, and tore your sweatpants in half with a loud rip of fabric. You squeaked in surprise and automatically attempted to cover yourself. He easily caught you by the wrists and he leaned back to enjoy the view of you with a satisfied smirk on his skull. Pink flushed your cheeks while he slowly looked you over. You had a pair of thigh-high socks on beneath the sweatpants, but you were still a bit startled he ripped your clothes off so easily. It was like he tore freaking tissue paper! 

Milord’s bony hand cupped your cheek and he returned to you with a hungry kiss. The cool touch of his formed member slid against your eager wetness, sending more shivers down your spine. You wrapped your free arm around him and dug your fingers into his shoulder blade. He ran a hand down both your thighs, moving the torn fabric clear, when you wrapped your legs around his waist. You locked your ankles in place and pulled him towards you, silently asking for more. The cold menthol of his taste was starting to numb your lips a bit, but you still felt his smirk.

Without breaking the kiss, the only thing helping to keep you silent, Milord propped himself up on his elbow and used his other hand to lift your hips up into him. With your other hand finally freed, you reached down to guide him into you. A shiver ran up your spine from the slight pressure, the chill of him sliding into your tight entrance. A strong pulse of desire stirred in you when you felt him groan into your mouth. No doubt he enjoyed the stretch he still gave you, too. 

The starting pace he gave you was agonizingly slow for your want. Perhaps he had a thought of your first time together and your need to not rush. It wasn’t until you bucked your hips into him, using the pull of your legs and locked ankles to show him you wanted more, that he eagerly gave in. His fingers dug into your lower back and his warm skull fell to the crook of your neck as he moved faster. He panted cold mist against your hot skin and you sucked at the vertebrae of his neck, trying to stifle the moans that wanted to escape your throat. He had needed to feel you just as much as you needed him and was already far more worked up than you after your little tease of his magic.

He already knew where that spot inside of you was and wasted no time in finding it. The start of his name escaped you in a loud moan and Milord clapped a hand over your mouth to cut you off. A cool whisper tickled your ear as he hushed you. You tried, you really did, to stay quiet as he moved in and out of you. But how could you? Every thrust filled you, struck against that bundle of nerves inside, and sent jolts of building electricity through your veins. You laced your fingers between his ribs and clung to him, rocked your hips with his, matching his motion and encouraging him to go even faster. 

The hand he held your lower back up with retreated so he could firmly hold onto your waist. He took charge of the newly fast pace by guiding your rocking hips with his grip. You shook his hand off your mouth and pulled him into a heated kiss. The taste of menthol filled your mouth and you felt him squeeze your hip. 

With a small shimmy, you moved your locked ankles further up his back near his shoulder blades, folding yourself, and saw stars when he hit deeper inside you. You closed your eyes, trying desperately to not scream in delight when he grabbed both of your hips tightly and pistoned into you. Moans escaped you, barely muffled by your entangled tongues, as pleasured shocks shook your limbs. 

A whisper of your name left him when he broke the kiss. He covered your mouth, anticipating more of your noise before he bit down onto your neck to hold you in place beneath him. You whined into his bony fingers, your back arching as Milord lost himself in chasing your peaks. The ripple of his ribs teased your chest as he settled his weight on you, pushing you down into the mattress. You barely had time to register the rapid sound of bone slapping against flesh before the damn of electricity in you broke and you raked your nails across his shoulders and down his spine. A shudder tore through him and he thrust into you, hard, carrying you through your peak. You panted against his hand. Shivered from overstimulation. You held him close and tried to hold out until the chill of him filled you when he reached his own peak. He ground his hips into yours, clamping his jaw down on you to muffle his groan of release.

Milord slowed to a stop and retreated from your neck, gave the stinging bite a soothing lick of his cold tongue (thankfully he didn’t break the skin,) before he kissed you gently. You smiled, breathless, and kissed his cheekbone when he fell onto his side next to you. He tugged at your waist, beckoning you to him, and you gladly cuddled up against him. You rested your cheek against his shoulder and felt the rise and fall of his ribcage while you both caught your breath.

“Love you, Milord,” you whispered.

“And I, you, Zeta,” he murmured, softly nuzzling his skull into your mess of hair.

The wandering touch on his chest eventually found your mark. You glanced down at it, then up at him, questioning. He gave you a rare smile and a small nod to show his consent.

“Hey, Milord?” you asked quietly, surfacing after renewing his mark. He quickly hid his wince at your marking bite in favor of raising an inquisitive brow at you. “Just now, when I was teasing you… that touch to your magic was good, right? You never answered me.”

Milord took a deep breath and slowly let it out to give himself time to think. “If I had to make a comparison…” he let the sentence fall away and hummed in thought. He gently traced a fingertip from your wrist, up the inside your arm, and studied your skin’s reaction when you got goosebumps. “The matrices in my species’ bodies are similar to your nervous and vascular systems. When my magic is forming a temporary part of myself, that area is open and vulnerable to sensation. Your touch was not unpleasant. Quite the contrary. It was… overstimulating. Keep in mind that, should you become too rough, even by accident, that pleasure could quickly become unpleasant.”

“I don’t want to hurt you!” you sucked in a breath, silently thankful that you had never been overeager the few times you had touched that kind of plasma. You would’ve felt horrible if it ended badly. 

“I am well aware,” Milord chuckled and pressed a skeleton kiss to your forehead. “Such an open connection makes it quite easy to feel your intent through it. Seeking to please me does not cause me discomfort as long as you physically restrain yourself.” He tilted your chin up to look into your eyes, showing the weight of what he was about to say. “There is one more reason that you may not have considered yet, my dear. You need to be careful with how you utilize this discovery. Some of your other partners may find it difficult to hold back if you push them too far. Your body is fragile and none of your betas would be free of guilt should we inadvertently cause you harm.”

You hummed in thought and returned to tracing your touch along his ribs. While it wasn’t exactly the same, you could compare what he said to when the others bit you. They knew you liked it, but they could easily break the skin. (Especially the guys with sharp teeth.) They could hurt you if they didn’t hold back. Axe had already bruised you on accident from getting overexcited. Red had accidentally torn open your back with his sharp fingertips when he had gotten upset, and then again when you tried to be intimate with each other. He had flirted with you heavily, but hadn’t tried to be that forward in initiating a claim with you since. Now you had to wonder if he was afraid of hurting you again. Those weren’t the only times things had gotten a little out of hand, either.

With how carefully the brothers watched themselves around you, it could be easy to forget how strong they were despite their skeletal appearances. Pap could snap branches you could barely lift in his hands and could apparently lift the trunks of hundred year old trees with ease. Sans could render you immobile just by touching your soul. It was hard to forget how easily Edge had lifted you by the front of your shirt the first night you stayed in the house. Or how effortlessly Axe could carry you in one arm when he climbed the tree to show you the owls.

Butch had warned you when you first moved in how easy it would be for them to hurt you if they weren’t careful and it was strange to think you were physically capable of hurting them, too, if you didn’t hold back. You had only ever struck out once - when you slapped Edge. It had broken your hand, but it hadn’t phased him the least aside from catching him by surprise. This new spot, though, was a totally vulnerable place for them that exposed the very connections that made up their bodies. During a time they trusted you with themselves. You had to make sure you never hurt them by accident.

“Returning to the subject of marks,” Milord nodded his skull at the fresh one on his collarbone, effectively drawing you out of your thoughts, “I was made aware last night that Papyrus has joined the pack. I am not upset,” he said quickly, calmly, when you opened your mouth to speak. “You have previously informed me of your intentions with him and I have already given my approval. Papyrus is an forthright, hardworking individual and I have no qualms sharing my alpha with him. I have already acknowledged him.”

“How did you find out?” you asked. “I wanted to tell you myself during a pack meeting but you left the morning after he and I...”

“We had a few topics of discussion during my healing.” Milord said vaguely. “It is not unusual for Papyrus to sleep shirtless and one cannot call me unobservant. I am also pleased that you are keeping to your own rule of communication and chose to forego a welcome meeting in favor of making your new beta known to the others during my absence.”

“Actually,” you admitted sheepishly, “you can thank Mutt for that. I wasn’t sure if I should wait or not and he encouraged me to tell the others.”

Milord’s purple lights widened with surprise. “When did Mutt develop emotional maturity?”

“He’s been that way as long as I’ve known him,” you said, quirking your brow at Milord. Sure, Mutt could get a little jealous, and liked to brag a bit, but everyone has their own faults along with their strong points. One of the things you really appreciated about Mutt was that he was someone you could confide almost anything to and he would try to give you advice. And Mutt had come a long way with managing his jealousy compared to when you first knew him.

“Hardly.” Milord huffed. “He’s been a selfish, boastful, begrudging individual since he was a child. I’ve always had to keep him in check and correct how he conducts himself.”

“People change,” you gently reminded him. “Maybe he was that way once, but I’m sure it was difficult for him growing up in your shadow. Try not to be so hard on him. He’ll always be your little brother but he’s not a kid anymore.” 

In response, Milord gave you a small, thoughtful hum and rested his chin on the top of your head. You wondered if he enjoyed doing that because he was shorter than you. If you were standing in front of him he had to stand on his toes to kiss your forehead.

“Do you want Mutt and I to make you something to eat?” you offered with a smile. “It’s still pretty early, but I did promise to spend the morning with him before my exams and you need to recover.”

“Zeta, if your circadian rhythm woke you before I rose myself, then I’ve had far too much sleep,” Milord huffed. “I expressed once already that I will not laze about.”

“There’s a difference between being lazy and resting,” you said pointedly. You had half a mind to point out that it wasn’t your internal clock that woke you, it was the feel of his icy breath on the back of your neck. Instead, you added, “Why don’t you nap and I’ll wake you up again when breakfast is ready?”

“Make no attempt to dissuade me. The day has already been planned.”

You giggled and Milord gave you a flat-lighted glare. Did he seriously try to schedule his free time again? “Milord, the whole point of time off is doing what you want, when you want.”

“That is no reason to be inefficient and waste my time,” Milord tugged the sheets off your bodies and you curled up in a ball, trying to hold on to the rapidly fading body heat. He patted your backside to get you off the bed and rose up himself. You held the torn halves of your pants to your body and caught your sweater he tossed to you. The bed neatly made itself with a flick of his frosty, lavender magic.

“Um, do you have a pair of pants I could borrow?” you asked sheepishly, your face pink as you watched Milord pull a drawer out from beneath his bed. It was filled with crisp, folded clothes in black or various shades of purple. There was even another leather jacket, marked just like the one crumpled up in a dusty heap on the floor, with his rank as Captain. He unzipped a flat square of thick, clear plastic and laid the jacket and his choice of clothes (black slacks, gloves, and violet dress shirt) on his sheets.

“I do not own leisure wear, nor will my pants fit you. They were tailored to my size and you, my dear, are not a skeleton.” Milord pushed the drawer back beneath his bed, grabbed the towel from the filing cabinet, and gathered up his dirty clothes without touching them. He even scrubbed at the floor with the corner to wipe away any dust that had been left behind. At your baffled look, he added, “Since my quarters are private, it saves time to don one set of clothing without removing another set prior. I am still the only one to wake before sunrise so I have no qualm walking to and from the bathroom as I am.”

Another giggle escaped you as you remembered a time, long ago, when you had been up early and caught Milord coming out of the shower. He had seemed so shocked to find you awake that he had simply retreated back into the bathroom without saying anything. “You know, I didn’t use to be such an early bird until we made morning coffee a thing,” you grinned and gratefully accepted a dress shirt that was a very nice shade of lilac from Milord. Without hesitation, you kicked off the torn pants and pulled on the shirt. It was a little tight, but Milord had broad shoulders despite his short stature and that allowed it to still fit you.

“You are-” Milord breathed in a small sigh, “-a veritable mess.” You looked up from the button you were fiddling with and saw that his hazed gaze was fixed on you. Heat rose to your cheeks when you saw his eye lights linger on the fact you wore nothing but black thigh-highs and a lilac dress shirt that only barely hid your lack of underwear. You had no doubt that your hair was an absolute nest, too, and that you definitely had the smell of his claim clinging to you.

“Give me those,” you mumbled, pink in the face. You tightened your green sweater around your waist, to hide your indecency, and took the bundle Milord held. “I’ve got a bunch of laundry to do today anyway. I’ll throw yours in with it.”

“You cannot wash leather in a machine,” Milord said coolly, quirking his brow at you. You quirked one right back at him.

“My most precious possession is a leather jacket and you’re suggesting I don’t know how to wash it?” you gasped, feigning offence. “This coming from a guy who likes to rip clothes off me.”

“Yet you have procrastinated in said possession’s repair,” he replied smugly, reminding you of the tear in your jacket’s sleeve.

“I… don’t know how to sew leather,” you admitted quietly and turned pink. “I barely know how to fix my regular clothes. The only things that ever wore out were my stockings and I always just bought new ones when I got a run in them.”

“Do you recall that I have advised you more than once to expand your wardrobe?” Milord smirked and rested a hand on his bony hip. The victorious air about him would’ve been a bit more chastising if he wasn’t still completely bare boned. “If you are so desperate for attire that you feel the need to appropriate my younger brother’s clothes, then you are the one at fault, my dear. What was the point in assisting Sans with putting your name on our accounts if you do not utilize them?”

“Wait, are you saying you planned on ripping my clothes up? Even back then?” you asked in a teasing sort of disbelief. Milord flushed lavender at the suggestion.

“Of course not!” he grumbled icily, shooing you out of the room and speaking in hushed tones now that you were in the hall. “It does not take incredible foresight to know you would need replacements. Physical labor, like you were hired to do, creates a lot of wear and tear on material. If you insist on letting yourself subside on the bare minimum and have no time to learn proper maintenance of what you do own, then you leave me no choice but to intervene.”

He moodily shut himself inside the brothers’ shared bathroom. You stood there for a moment, listening to the sound of water from the shower. A part of you agreed with him. You really did need some work clothes now that it was spring. Another part of you remembered the satisfied smirk on his skull when he looked you over earlier. He had enjoyed ripping those sweatpants in half. Whether it was because it was fun for him, or simply because they belonged to Mutt and were in his way, you couldn’t tell.

Maybe a bit of both.

_ ‘Let’s add that to the list of things to do during spring break,’ _ you thought as you made your way to your own bathroom. Work on the grounds, petition, teach Edge how to be nice, and learn to sew. That last one would definitely end up falling through the cracks. Still, that was your dad’s jacket. You could never replace it. Either you made time or you risked it falling apart. Not to mention a lot of your clothes were starting to get small rips and holes thanks to the guys.

A low groan escaped you as you opened your bathroom door. The pile of wet clothes from yesterday was still in your tub.

~~~

The duffel bag landed on the wood floor with a heavy thunk. You yawned and stretched your back while looking blearily towards the window at the opposite end of the second story hall. The light starting to shine through the glass was a dull grey and pink with the early signs of sunrise. The initial excitement you had from finding Milord was back had started to fade during your shower and you realized - after retrieving your phone from your room - that it wasn’t even 7am yet. You barely had 5 hours of sleep and you wondered how the hell Milord functioned on so little sleep every day. (And he worked his ass off!)

You couldn’t hear the sound of the other shower anymore. With a faint hope, you wondered if Milord had taken your advice and gone back to sleep. You gave a small, approving nod to no one and adjusted your white stockings beneath your poppy sundress. 

It was still far too early to wake Mutt. That didn’t mean you couldn’t start coffee and breakfast on your own, or bring your heavy bag of damp laundry downstairs. The poor bag was overflowing and the seams groaned when you picked it back up. At least with the addition of Axe’s outfit, Milord’s pile, and your sheets, you might have a few full loads of laundry after separating the colors.

Halfway down the wide, oak steps you paused. A conversation was drifting into the entrance hall from the kitchen and you knew immediately who those voices belonged to. You froze on the steps, startled that both of them were still awake.

“-think it absolutely asinine that you would ignore my advice.” Milord said stiffly. You held onto the twisted wood of the banister, your head cocked in curiosity as you listened.

“I TOLD YOU, I’M FINE.” Edge snapped back. “MY MAGIC IS REPLENISHED AND I’M GOING BACK TONIGHT. YOU CAN’T TELL ME OTHERWISE.”

“You’ll find that I can,” Milord replied, the impatience as apparent as the ice in his tone. “I am your Captain. Whether or not you return to duty is well within my power. Consider yourself fortunate that I am still considering it after your mulish behavior.”

“YOU’RE NOT THE BOSS OF ME.” Edge hissed, his sharp tone heavy with venom.

“I am not about to repeat this argument with you yet again!” Milord snapped back. “You’re the last competent specialist I have in my forces, and it’s imperative that you recover!”

“SO YOU OBVIOUSLY NEED ME MORE THAN I NEED YOU.” Edge said smugly. You could hear the frustrated growl from Milord along with his long, even sigh as he tried to hold onto his temper.

“This is for your own wellbeing. It is foolhardy to allow you to put yourself at unnecessary risk by prematurely returning you to duty,” Milord said firmly, his tone slightly strained with frustration. “Be as obdurate as you please, you have only two options before I allow you back to the Underground. Either you swallow your massive vainglory and allow Papyrus to mend you, or you wait the fortnight it will take for your injuries to heal.”

“SO YOU’LL LET OTHER MONSTERS DIE IN MY PLACE WHILE I SIT ON MY ASS?” Edge spat bitterly.

“I will not allow you to throw your life away!”

“WHAT THE HELL MAKES ME SO SPECIAL, THEN?” A chair squeaked across the tile and you assumed Edge had gotten to his feet. “IT DOESN’T MATTER WHO YOU USE, DOES IT? AS LONG AS YOU CLAIM VICTORY AND A SHINY NEW METAL, YOU’LL USE ANYONE HOW YOU PLEASE! ADMIT IT - MY POWER JUST HAPPENS TO BE THE SHARPEST KNIFE ON YOUR BELT AND YOU CAN’T JUSTIFY LOSING THAT JUST YET!” 

_ “You are my brother!” _ Milord hissed. “I have never thought of you as a tool, nor-”

“DON’T GIVE ME THAT SHIT, THAT’S NEVER MATTERED BEFORE!”

“Do not  _ dare _ interrupt me!” The smell of frost drifted in from the kitchen and you felt yourself stiffen when the scent tickled your nose. “I am your superior both in familial hierarchy and official rank and you will treat me with respect!”

“YOU DON’T DESERVE IT!”

A tense silence hung in the air, then the smell of gasoline reached you. You nervously descended the last of the stairs and adjusted the strap of the duffle bag on your shoulder.

Milord was alone in the kitchen (Edge must’ve teleported away) and wearing the violet dress shirt and black slacks he had laid out for himself. He was irritably wiping down the stove with a brown towel guided by this lavender magic. A bottle of cleaner floated nearby, supported by a separate cloud of plasma. The agitated gestures he used were too much for the towel and it overshot the last of the burners, bounced off the wall, and landed with a wet smack on the tile. Milord murmured darkly under his breath and the bottle gave a strained pop from the pressure of the magic keeping it in the air.

You set your bag down by the fridge and picked the towel up off the floor. “Are you okay?” you asked softly. Milord glanced at you and you caught the sight of his dark sockets and furious scowl. He turned away and let the bottle of cleaner fall onto the counter before it exploded in his magical grip.

“I’ve had it with him,” he growled through sharp, gritted teeth. “That is the last time I will allow his insubordination. Whatever possessed me to allow him to continue to serve the Guard-”

Milord let the sentence fall away. He crossed his arms and irritably tapped the toes of one of his leather boots against the tile.

“Let me finish the stove,” you said gently. Taking his gloved hand, you guided him to the table and offered him a chair. Thankfully, he let you. “I know Edge is frustrating and you’re still tense from work. Let yourself cool off and we can talk about it while I make coffee.”

“There is nothing to discuss.” Milord said stiffly, though he took the offered chair while you returned to the stove. Purple lights slowly came back to his sockets as he watched you spray down the towel with cleaner. “He has always had issues with authority and I have simply run out of patience.”

“He does listen to you, though,” you reminded Milord as you wiped down the stovetop. It was already clean to your eyes, but his standards of cleanliness were much higher than yours and it was not a good time to argue about stovetops. “You told me yourself that he follows your orders, and only yours, when you gave me your warning about Red. That’s something, isn’t it?”

“Only when it is convenient for him.” Milord huffed. “First he detests the idea of returning to duty, now he is impatient to return. He quite obviously enjoys opposing me.”

“I don’t think it’s entirely that,” you said slowly, your mind whirring. Milord watched you curiously as you paused to spray down the towel again. You weren’t entirely one to talk, since you got just as frustrated with Edge as Milord did, but you also knew a lot about why Edge was the way he was. Thinking to encourage Milord, you offered him a slight bit of advice. “You’re the type of person to use reason and logic to persuade people. You’ll get better results from him if you stick to that and you don’t throw the fact that you’re his boss in his face. He’ll only fight you if you use your status against him. He does a lot better when encouraged with something he wants.”

“You do not know Edge as I do.”

“No, but I know him better than you think I do.”

Silence fell between you as Milord studied you. Without any prompting, you moved from the stove to start wiping down the silver fridge to give him time to think. He watched you stand on your toes, to get the meager house dust that had settled on top of the humming appliance, then slowly work your way down the sides to polish the metal.

“I suppose I have you to acknowledge for upkeep while I’ve been away,” Milord said quietly. You glanced over your shoulder towards him and caught the affectionate smile tugging at his teeth.

“The others helped.” You shrugged and let the previous subject drop. Pressing it while he was frustrated, and more tired than he would ever let on, wouldn’t help. “Pap did the dishes most nights.”

“Perhaps, but do not think I haven’t noticed your attempts while moving through my usual routine.” Milord wagged a finger at you and that grin finally won out on his skull. “Papyrus may keep the kitchen orderly, since he does most of the cooking, but it was Sans who received a list of all that I do for maintenance. I know he shared that with you when you insisted on taking part of his terms from our bet. You, my dear, are far more immaculate than he could hope to be.”

Your cheeks flushed pink from the compliment. Those were something Milord rarely gave, but you appreciated it when he did. With the fridge finished, you moved on to the cupboards to hide your color from him. The clack of his boots crossed the tile in short, clipped steps and you felt him slide his arms around your waist.

“Initiative and deductive reasoning are two qualities that I prize highly.” he said softly in your ear, the chill of his breath raising goosebumps on your skin as he praised you again. So it caught you completely off guard when he quietly asked, “Do you think I should allow Edge to remain in the Guard?”

Your eyebrows jumped towards your hairline and turned your head to find his purple lights giving you an unwavering stare. “You’re not seriously considering firing him, are you?”

“I have no use for an unreliable Guardsman.” Milord’s thumb drifted idly over your stomach and he rested his chin on your shoulder. “You can understand my position. He has defied orders many times while we were on duty alongside the rest of my men. If the others see that I allow Edge’s defiance it undermines my own authority. This is why I have separated him from the main force thus far - to work independently under the watchful eye of a competent partner. He worked well that way, but his obedience wavers the more eyes are upon him. When he disregards my orders as part of a working team those actions, both directly and indirectly, cause unnecessary damage to property and loss of life. Why should I let Edge retain his position?”

You pressed your lips together in thought. Part of why Milord must be considering this was because Edge’s partner, Undying, had died in the breach. “...why have you let him stay so far?”

A frustrated sigh left Milord. “I loathe to admit it, but his talents are indispensable. During the occasions where he does follow my orders, he can accomplish what might take an entire team’s effort on his own. My… recent campaign would not have been as successful if I did not have his unique abilities at my disposal.”

A sinking feeling grabbed onto your guts and pulled them towards the tile. Softly, you asked, “Then why ask me if he should stay in the Guard?” 

“You study the mind, is that not so? I’ve no doubt you have mentally assessed all of us, whether intentionally or not, on our faults and virtues. Thus, I value your opinion on this.”

“I… don’t think I can make a decision like that, even if it is just an opinion.” You set the towel down on the dark marble and took his hand in yours. “I don’t know Edge’s working history. Who he is at home and who he is on the job can be entirely different people for all I know. There’s a lot I can assume, but I could be wrong.”

“I told you my reasoning in favor of termination.” Milord said coolly, his breath chilling your skin. “Insubordination, unnecessary damage to property, and preventable loss of life all brought about by his disobedience. What more could you need to advise me? You quite obviously have a read on his personality and mental state after living here for mere months - you defend him and continue to reach out to him. Why you choose to act in such a way for an individual you should justifiably loathe completely baffles me. Either you see something that I do not or possess the patience of a saint.”

“Just because I don’t exactly admire the guy doesn’t mean I have to hate him,” you sighed. Milord might call you patient, but Edge knew how to get under your skin. No matter how well you thought you understood Edge, that never completely stopped you from losing your temper at him. “I’ve used what I know to understand or help our family with some of its problems, I’ll admit that, but I’ve never, ever tried to create a psychological profile on anyone. I try to support all of you as your friend, not your therapist. Even if I did slip into that mindset for a difficult situation I would never share anything that was given to me in confidence with anyone else.” You furrowed your brow and gave his gloved fingers a squeeze. “Please don’t ask me to break that trust.”

“That is not what I request. I have simply asked if you think he should remain in the Guard.”

“I can’t answer that,” you huffed. That was still way too much he was asking of you, because you knew he trusted your opinion if he wanted your thoughts on the matter and would seriously consider whatever decision you made. “I can help you figure it out, if you’ll let me try. Is this thought you’re having, is it because of something he did recently after you were summoned to the Underground?”

“It is a culmination,” Milord said simply, and offered no more clarifying details.

“Okay. Have you asked him why he ignores certain orders? There’s a big difference between defying orders out of negligence and doing something different because it was what he felt was right. Did he disobey to bring about harm or to try and save someone else?”

“He refuses to explain himself and I am at my wit’s end making attempts to persuade him to do so. The threat of punishment seems to have little or no effect on him. The attempts I have made to instill discipline in him during his training have been successful but that does not make him the Guardsman I need him to be.” The soft leather of Milord’s glove drifted over the back of your hand. “Give me your insight. I am not expecting you to make a decision for me.”

You stared down at the black, marble counter and bit your lip. Milord wasn’t making this easy for you. That rubble you had glimpsed on Mutt’s camera feed, Undying’s death… did Edge somehow have a hand in both of them? Directly or indirectly? “I… still don’t know enough about the situation,” you mumbled, hoping that Milord would tell you more about what happened at the breach. When he didn’t enlighten you, and the silence stretched on, you quietly accepted that he couldn’t tell. Even Mutt admitted that he wasn’t supposed to let the family know what was going on. He did anyway to keep you all from worrying and so you could all take measures to stay safe. A lack of information didn’t stop Milord from patiently awaiting your thoughts.

You chewed your lip, trying to think about your words carefully. The last thing you wanted was to say something that was out of context and get Edge in trouble. Edge was certainly bull-headed, but if he did try to do something good and it ended badly he didn’t deserve a harsh punishment. Who were you to judge decisions made on a battlefield? There wasn’t time to think things through when you were fighting for your life or for those around you. Panic could happen to anyone no matter how well trained they were or how strong they are.

So why did Edge even want to stay in the Guard? When you had asked him on why he joined he admitted that Red had initially forced him, but he never explained why he stuck with it all these years. Did he stay because he wanted to help others, because he enjoyed having authority, or because he felt he had no purpose outside of what the Guard gave him? Was it possible that, like Red, Edge wanted to change something about the Underground and thought that the Guard would help him do it?

“Edge…” you said slowly, thinking over every word, “can be hard to work with at times, but he isn’t completely unwilling to find compromise and to cooperate. Despite that, he will give his all towards what he thinks is right and isn’t easily deterred once he’s made up his mind to do something. You told me yourself that he’s improved dramatically since you started working with him personally. He just hates feeling like he’s being used and will only become more stubborn if he thinks that’s what’s happening.”

The soft leather covering Milord’s thumb gently rubbed back and forth over the inside of your wrist. “That is not a conclusive answer, Zeta. I was expecting more of an endorsement or a dismissal amongst your explanation.”

“I can’t give you that unless I know both sides of the story. And since I’m not supposed to know anything about what you two did while you were gone...” you huffed. “If you want him to explain himself, you should try to talk to Edge again once you both have calmed down. He doesn’t show it, but he definitely respects you since he still listens to you, even reluctantly, because you gave him structure during a particularly chaotic part of his life. That means a lot to him even if he’ll never admit it to you.”

Milord stared down at the counter before you. A small sigh escaped you as you felt his grip tighten ever so slightly on your wrist. Were you helping, or just making this more difficult for him? You leaned your cheek against his brow, feeling the tip of the scar over his left socket as you nuzzled him. “I’ve never known you to be totally unfair, Milord. Use that logical reasoning of yours to convince him he’ll benefit if he explains his actions to you and you’ll get the answer you’re looking for.”

You could feel Milord’s bony brow furrow against your cheek. “I will… consider it.” he said and withdrew from you. “Unlike you, Zeta, I cannot wait for both sides of a story to become apparent before I am required to make a decision.”

“I know you have to make difficult decisions all the time.” You caught Milord as he turned away from you and let your touch linger on his forearm. The lights of his gaze stared down at it before flicking upwards to meet your eyes. “I know that, in the moment, you have to make choices for your men. No matter if it ends good or bad, you will have to bear the responsibility for everyone’s actions. You always have to put your people, and your men, before yourself because of that pressure. Hell, you wouldn’t even let our relationship happen at first because you were thinking of what it  _ might _ put me through, right? But you have time now. Maybe in these three days you have off you can find the answers you’re looking for before you have to decide about Edge. At the very least, think it over after you let yourself breathe. I’ll help with what I can, but I don’t want to put your job at risk more than I already have by digging into things I shouldn’t.”

An appreciative grin won out on Milord’s skull. “Once again, I find myself disheartened that I will never have a chance to meet your father. I doubt you would have such empathy for someone in my position if it were not for him.”

You nodded solemnly and gave Milord a sad smile. You dad, while not having the weight of a country on his shoulders, still had to make decisions that affected people for the rest of their lives. How to direct his men, who to save… whether or not to go back. Your dad had gambled every day to try and rescue as many people as he could from fires and you knew some of his choices haunted him. Milord wasn’t so different. He had admitted himself, once, that the rare mistakes he made were far bigger than you could imagine.

As Milord gently took the bottle and towel from you, you had to wonder as you watched him walk away towards the entry hall. Was he second guessing his own choices during the breach? Did he blame himself for the destruction, the deaths of his men or unnamed civilians, because he thought he should’ve done something different? You had seen your dad lose his temper before at his men because of a rescue gone wrong - because they had tried to act differently from their orders to try to save more people and only ended up losing more. 

Milord knew Edge better than he thought at the moment because he had worked with him for so long. Milord knew how difficult he could be, but he kept him on after all this time. Right now, Milord was overworked, overtired (no matter how much he insisted he had enough sleep), and overall drained by recent events. Considering to remove Edge from the Guard could be Milord’s way of deflecting his own residual stress. Because if Edge was the only one you knew of who didn’t follow instruction blindly. If he had just followed orders, then Milord would have believed they had done the best they could. He would have nothing to blame but himself for anything that had gone wrong. 

Maybe, you wondered as you stood alone in the kitchen, Milord never would stop second guessing himself no matter what happened. His strategic mind, the ability to see so many different outcomes, would never let him stop thinking about the hypothetical scenario. Every ‘what if’ that could’ve made things end differently. It didn’t matter if it was the best solution he could think of at the time with his brilliant mind if looked back and saw a better way. 

Judging by the way he still walked with his shoulders back and his skull held high, this was not the first time something so heavy had weighed on his mind and soul. The fact that he and Edge were home told you that they had successfully sealed the breach in District 4. But did Milord consider it a true success if he thought he could’ve done better?

“Zeta, when you make your lattes, be sure to add a fourth cup,” Milord said as he returned from the hall. The cleaning supplies were gone, so he must’ve stored them in the cupboard under the stairs. “I am aware you desire Mutt’s company, but I will be rousing Papyrus momentarily and he will no doubt need the energy.”

“Why are you waking up Pap?” you asked, blinking in surprise as Milord retrieved four mugs and your coffee supplies from the cupboards by hand.

“The plans I have made for the day involve his presence.” Milord handed you a pot filled with water and you set it on the stove. A large grin crept onto your face and it felt like a balloon was swelling in your chest. After such a heavy discussion about Edge, it overjoyed you that he wanted to spend the day with one of his other brothers. Especially since it was hard to feel melancholy around Pap and his energy. Milord noticed your smile and quirked a bony brow at you as he brought the stove to life. “Is there a reason you are suddenly so felicitous?”

“I’m just glad you’re not shutting yourself away in your room during your time off.” You hummed brightly and moved to measure espresso for pour overs. “I was… a little worried that you might. Oh, and can you get the hot chocolate for me from the top shelf? Pap doesn’t drink coffee.”

Milord gave you a curt nod. The tin of cocoa powder floated down from the cupboard on a cloud of plasma and you watched him out of the corner of your eye while you found the chili powder.

“Hey, Milord?” you asked. He handed the tin to you and stared at you expectantly. You thumbed the smooth metal, chewing the inside of your cheek. “You’re, um, doing okay, right? I know you’re always stressed out from work, but I…” The sentence trailed off. You didn’t want to voice all of your concerns, so you stuck with one. “I just don’t want you to bottle it up and give yourself a migraine. You’re the most brilliant guy I know. I can’t compare to you in that, but you’d talk to me if you needed help with an idea, right? Or… or just to vent?”

His purple eye lights softened at you and a grin tugged at his cheekbones. “If I am able to speak of such things,” he vaguely agreed, and you knew he only said that much because of the secrets he had to keep. He had, you smiled at the thought, already told you about his frustrations with Edge. “I assure you, I am quite alright. Allow yourself more credit, Zeta. Utilizing several of your ideas has already benefited me and my endeavors.” He admitted, turning away to hide the slight dusting of lavender across those same cheekbones, “It might please you to know I have not had a migraine since you persuaded me to take time off. I’ve… considered taking a full day in the future, as I have also noted an increase in my productivity in the days following.”

Your smile turned into a smug grin. “Are you admitting that I was right? That you do need time to yourself?” you asked slyly.

“I am doing no such thing!” Milord huffed. “I have merely admitted to a consideration of it!”

“Oh, you know I’m right, you stubborn mule. Admit it.”

Milord threw his hands up in exasperation and stormed out of the kitchen, leaving you giggling at the counter. If he would say it, just once, that you were right and he was wrong about taking time off, you’d let him bend you over the table and claim you right there.

Heat flushed your cheeks and your hand fumbled the tin of cocoa, spilling some across the clean marble counter. You wiped it up with your hand and rinsed it off with cold water from the sink. You had literally just been claimed not even an hour ago. Where did that thought come from? It was, you admitted quietly to yourself, really nice that he had come after you like that. Would he… maybe want to go again later? Maybe this time you could try ripping those buttons on his shirt off and see how  _ he _ likes having his clothes torn open. Could you entice him to the attic? You could push him onto the bed and let him forget all that stress he carried for a while when you took your turn on top. You could tease that feathery magic of his and get to hear those sounds, that he had tried so desperately to stifle earlier, when he felt how much you wanted him to feel good.

You slapped at your warm cheeks with your cold hands and went to the fridge for the milk. Milord already had his day planned out and you were not about to distract him from bonding time with his brother. You were just really happy that everyone was finally home and safe. You had missed Milord terribly; of course you’d crave intimacy now that he was home. That didn’t stop you from feeling a little selfish for having those desires while knowing some of the things he quietly carried.

A smile tugged at your cheeks as you poured milk into the empty, waiting pot. Milord was still emotionally stiff, but he had gotten so much better since you had first met him. The high standards he held were no less lax, but he praised you more. He expressed worry for you and went out of his way to look after you at times. Even initiating intimacy, the kind not driven by his more possessive side, was a huge step for him. It was even bigger for him, you recalled with a touch of heat to your cheeks, because of he had allowed himself to form a deep, emotional bond with you. He would not physically desired you otherwise.

You stared down at the pot, waiting for it to come to a simmer while wondering what you could do for him to help. It was something you offered. Something you wanted to give no matter what. You hated seeing him so stressed out. It made you feel better to know he hadn’t gotten a migraine in a while, but there was so much he couldn’t talk about to you that you had lost your best tool - conversation. Being Captain meant so much to him. He had already risked so much by telling you about Ferals (even in a roundabout way with hypotheticals) and by warning you about Red’s records.

While you poured out the hot milk for two lattes, a hot chocolate, and a spiced mocha, your mind drifted to what you could do. If he had time off then you’d make sure it was as relaxing as possible for him. You could get up early and continue to clean for him; he seemed to really appreciate that. A mischievous grin crawled onto your face, born from another memory. You could give him another massage. Maybe, if you did well enough, you could get what you wanted after, too.

Or, you considered while your mind slowly stirred your thoughts to match the motion of the spoon in the mugs before you, you could bring up that meeting topic you and Axe discussed. Milord had mentioned after your first night together that he had no desire for children, but maybe talking about that subject might help alleviate some of the invisible weight on his shoulders. It was a happy thought about the future, not one about attacking Ferals or a looming, cross-species war.

You stared out of the window over the sink, a warm feeling in your chest as you couldn’t help but imagine a bright thought amongst the darker ones. It might not be possible at all, but what if you did manage to become pregnant, years down the road, when you and your pack were ready for a child? No matter which of your betas you chose, you wondered if it would take after you physically. Monster females were the ones to pass on their forms, not the males. Even if they did come out skeletal, which species they looked like didn’t matter so much to you as long as they were healthy.

Maybe their hair would be bone white, to resemble their dad’s skull, if they ended up having hair. Or would it be your color? They might grow a mixture of flat and sharp teeth, depending on who their dad was, or maybe just one kind. When they cried, their wail might not be like a human baby at all. Maybe they’d show their half-monster side by making some kind of immature noise that would later become their Font. You didn’t know if humans passed on their soul qualities, or how monsters passed on their magic, but you’d like to think they’d be like you in that way and have some kindness in their soul from the start. You’d never know for sure, but you guessed that your mom had been a Kindness soul, too. Their magic, if they could use it, would probably be white like all monster children until they discovered who they are. Would their eyes glow, just like the guys’ did, with a red, purple, or white color? Or maybe their irises, if they were more human looking, might have a lovely shade to reflect their father’s color. If you had both your mom and dad’s traits, you couldn’t see why your kid wouldn’t have some small mixture.

The mental picture of you holding your imaginary child made a dull, wanting ache form in your chest. It would be nice, one day. If it was even possible. If it was, at least you were sure that Axe wanted a big family.

“THAT’S… A WEIRD NOISE.” You whipped your head around and saw Milord returning to the kitchen with Pap right behind him. Pap had on another white, button up shirt and his acid washed jeans with his red boots. Both of them wore this bewildered look on their skulls (which was a very, very strange look for Milord) and were watching you like you might explode.

You laughed nervously and ran a hand through your hair. “Uh… what noise?”

“It is… difficult to describe.” Milord watched you warily as you brought over a latte for him and a hot chocolate for Pap. He seemed, for the first time in his life, at a loss for words and turned to Pap.

“IT’S, UM, LIKE… A DOVE SOUND?” Pap rubbed at his fuzzy, white lights and they flicked as he considered his mug. “IT’S NICE, THOUGH. I’M GLAD THAT’S THE FIRST NOISE I HEARD FROM YOU TODAY, HONEY, EVEN IF I DON’T KNOW WHAT IT MEANS.”

You turned pink, feeling Milord narrow his purple eye lights at you even though you were determinedly not looking at either of them at this point. “Well, I’m off to wake up Mutt!” you announced awkwardly and ran towards the basement door.

The cool air radiating off the concrete walls was a balm for your suddenly frayed nerves. You needed to keep those thoughts away for now. Those ideas belonged to the future and whatever sound your soul had just been making had obviously freaked out Pap and Milord a bit. Pushing the subject out of your head, you flicked on the lights and descended the creaky stairs to find Mutt.

“Hey, handsome,” you purred, crawling under the black covers to find Mutt’s snoring frame. He scrunched up his nasal ridge and cracked open a socket at you. “I made you a coffee you might like. It’s a spicy mocha. Kind of like a mexican hot chocolate, but with espresso.”

When his fuzzy, red eye light finally focused on you, Mutt reached out and pulled you into his frame. You squeaked in surprise, then grinned when he spooned into you and let out a warm sigh of contentment against your neck.

“Let’s just go back to bed,” his raspy voice mumbled in your ear. “You don’t need to go to school till later, right? Stay here with me.”

You pouted and poked at his ribs. Mutt grumbled under his breath and held you tighter, pinning your arms so that you couldn’t poke him again.

“Mutt? I’ve got a question for you,” you said, hoping to wake him with conversation.

“‘S that, Robin?”

“Have you ever heard my soul make a dove noise?”

“Mmm, nope.”

“Any idea what it means?”

“No clue. Might be able to guess if I heard it myself. What were you thinking about at the time?”

“Does that matter?”

“Course it does.”

You fell silent, considering that. At that moment, you had been thinking about a potential child. Was it some sort of… mothering instinct the guys had heard? Your insides deflated a bit to think that Pap and Milord had heard that soul sound and were put off by it at first. Pap had said it was nice after the fact, but Milord hadn’t said anything at all. He had said he didn’t want kids once before...

“Alright, why are you upset now?” Mutt asked, cracking open his sockets again to stare at you with sharpening red eye lights.

“I’m not upset,” you said, moving to rise only for Mutt to pull you back down beside him.

“None of that, Robin. You know you can talk to me. What’s bothering you?” 

You hesitated, squirming uncomfortably under Mutt’s stare. “I was just… I don’t know. I was thinking about the future and maybe I felt a little impatient for a split second.”

Mutt’s eye lights flickered at you in confusion. “Huh?”

“We’ll talk about it later,” you said quickly, wanting to move away from this conversation. You tugged at his arms, pulling them off you so you could try and drag him out of bed. Mutt let himself go limp, becoming a dead weight you could barely move. He just looked up at you with a flat-light stare while you pulled at his wrists. “I promise, we’ll talk about it. Just come upstairs with me! Our coffee is getting cold and I’ve gotta start breakfast!”

Reluctantly, and with a very loud yawn, Mutt let you tug him to his feet. He pulled at his face, stared longingly at the black pack of smokes by his humming computer, then quietly followed after you while scratching sleepily at the side of his skull.

“-thought we were well versed in her emotions by now.”

“WELL, I DON’T KNOW WHAT MEANT EITHER.”

The conversation in the kitchen fell silent as you and Mutt entered the kitchen. Pap gave you a cheery, albeit tired, wave from his seat at the table. Milord, seated across from him, quietly sipped his latte.

“Oh.” Mutt’s eye lights widened as they settled on his older brother. “You’re back.”

Milord nodded curtly to Mutt, a silent greeting, and returned his attention to his mug. You stared between them with your brow furrowed slightly in confusion. Given how morose Mutt had been in Milord’s absence, you had expected a bit more joy. Instead of a welcome home, a smile, or any other sign of relief, Mutt stiffly crossed the kitchen to the two waiting mugs on the counter.

“Mine has chocolate, right?” he asked you, refusing to say anything more to Milord. You nodded and quietly followed Mutt to the counter, wondering what on earth could’ve gotten into him. Had he caught some kind of lingering scent in the air? But if that were true, then Pap would’ve noticed it, too. Did he and Milord have some kind of disagreement before Milord came back?

“We should leave if we’re to be prompt, Papyrus,” Milord said coolly, his chair squeaking slightly across the tile as he rose. “The ferry will not wait if we are late.”

“Wait, where are you going?” you asked, snapping out of your worried thoughts to wrestle with a quickly rising panic. “You just got home! I thought you had time off?”

“HE DOES, HONEY, WHICH IS WHY WE’RE GOING TO GET UNDYNE AND HER BROTHER TODAY,” Pap explained to you. He rose up as well and crossed the kitchen in two, long strides while digging around in his pockets. “THAT REMINDS ME, YOU’LL NEED THE SHELBY TO GET TO SCHOOL. IT’S ALL PUT BACK TOGETHER.”

Pap put the keys in your hand, gave it an affectionate squeeze, and turned to follow Milord through the archway. Your mind flew into a panic. Everyone was finally home. They couldn’t leave!

“Wait!” you blurted out, desperate for them to stay. Mutt quirked a brow at you, Pap whirled around on the heel of his boot, his eye lights wide with surprise; and Milord calmly stood at attention while staring you down. You froze beneath all of their gazes, your panic increasing. “I mean, I know Undyne was supposed to visit us, but I thought you were going with Sans to get her, Pap?”

“IT’LL BE EASIER IF I GO WITH MILORD,” Pap said stiffly, folding his arms over his chest while he spoke. “HE’S IN CHARGE OF VISAS AND GETTING THROUGH CUSTOMS WILL BE A LOT FASTER WITH HIM.”

“Why can’t it wait until tomorrow night? I want to meet Undyne, too, but I have two exams today and another one tomorrow morning.”

“While I have no qualm with Undyne, I refuse to allow Aquamarine to reside in my home without supervision.” Milord said coolly. “We are retrieving Undyne and her brother today precisely due to the fact I have time off.”

“But I-I wanted us to have another pack meeting,” you said, feeling like your argument was starting to get kind of feeble. Mutt quietly sipped his mocha next to you, his eye lights flickering with amusement. 

“THE OTHERS WERE ALREADY NICE ENOUGH TO WELCOME ME IN, HONEY,” Pap said soothingly, no doubt picking up on how stressed you were quickly becoming. “THEY ALL FOUND ME ON THEIR OWN TO SHOW THEIR SUPPORT.”

“I-it’s not just that,” you mumbled quickly. “I did want us to officially bring you in with one, Pap, don’t get me wrong, but there’s something else we need to discuss. Now that Milord’s back we should do it sooner than later before he gets caught up in work again. It’ll be hard for us to have a meeting with two more people in the house.”

Milord and Pap glanced at each other while Mutt quirked a curious brow at you.

“You already know all of our positions regarding your future marks,” Milord said stiffly and cleared his non-existent throat, no doubt thinking of your desire to make Red part of the pack. “Unless you have decided to mark Edge, who is the only member of this house you have not requested of us, or there is a problem with the balance of your current pack, I see no reason for a meeting.”

Mutt let out a loud snort of disbelief into his mug at the mention of Edge. A dribble of chocolate leaked from his nasal cavity and he quickly wiped it away on the back of his sleeve, much to Milord’s obvious disgust.

“DON’T WORRY, HONEY, WE’LL BE BACK BY DINNER,” Pap reassured you. His words did help ease the tension in your gut, but you still felt disappointed they would be back so late. “YOU’LL GET TO MEET UNDYNE AND MARRIE. THEY’LL BE STAYING FOR A FEW DAYS. ALTHOUGH,” he added, his brow furrowed, “I WON’T BE HERE TO HELP YOU START COOKING, AND BUTCH IS USUALLY SHY AROUND NEW PEOPLE, SO YOU MIGHT NEED TO START EARLY TO GET EVERYTHING DONE BEFORE THEY GET HERE.”

“Why’d you want to have a meeting, anyway?” Mutt asked, his attention determinedly focused on you.

“It’s-” you fidgeted with the stitched poppies on the hem of your dress, “-it’s about something one of you brought up to me. Regarding our futures together.”

Mutt leaned back on the counter, swirling his mug to mix the settling chocolate and spice. He glared at Milord before sipping his mocha, saying stiffly, “Sounds pretty important to me. What do you guys think? Stay today and just go tomorrow.”

“Aquamarine is not remaining under this roof unless I have my eye lights on him,” Milord replied, a touch of impatience to his icy tone. “I have already been overruled by the household vote to have them stay, I will not allow him to remain when I return to duty!”

“WHEN DID YOU VOTE?” Pap asked, his lights wide as he looked at Milord.

“It was automatically assumed I would vote against visitors. Especially when it pertains to meaningless sojourn.” Milord said stiffly. You wondered, for a brief second, if he knew the real reason why Pap wanted his friend at the house, or if Pap deliberately kept that information from Milord to protect Mutt. “In the end, it didn’t matter how I voted, since five of you had already given favor to the idea.”

“I DON’T REALLY LIKE THE IDEA OF CUTTING THE VISIT SHORT JUST BECAUSE MILORD HAS TO RETURN TO WORK.” Pap glanced apologetically at the glare Mutt shot him. You glanced between them, understanding finally dawning on you. The reason Mutt was upset.

“If we must have a meeting,” Milord glanced at the sun out the window, at the clock on the stove, “then we’ll rouse Axe and begin immediately. While I don’t like the idea of draining my magic so soon after recovering it, Papyrus and I can pool ours and shortcut to the entrance before traversing on foot. We will return far after dark, but it is the only compromise I can see to all our desires.”

“I LIKE THAT IDEA. WHAT DO YOU THINK, HONEY?” Pap nodded his approval and looked to you for confirmation. You glanced side-eyed at Mutt, who was glaring into his mug again, and gave Pap a nod. You had an idea of how to help Mutt’s simmering temper, too.

“We’ll need Axe, though,” you said, trying to help your idea along. “Can you two go wake him up? Mutt and I will start breakfast and you guys can at least get something to eat before travelling.”

Milord studied you a moment, his gaze darting towards his moody brother, and gave you a curt nod. “Very well.” He tapped Papyrus on the elbow, the highest point Milord could reach on his giant of a younger brother, and the two left the kitchen.

“You okay?” you asked Mutt quietly, even after you were sure the others were out of earshot. Mutt said nothing and stared at the dregs of his mocha. It was a bad habit for him to say nothing when he was upset. “I get why you’re angry, Mutt…”

“Do you?” Mutt snapped. You recoiled a bit at the unexpected venom in his voice before smiling softly.

“I do,” you nodded, gently placing your hand on his forearm. He glared at the contact. “You’re used to moving about the house freely and interacting with us. If company is coming, that means you have to hide in the basement, and you don’t want to act like you don’t exist.”

A bitter chuckle escaped him and his red eye lights softened at you. “That’s the nail, right there.”

Mutt threw back the last of his mocha into his void, reached behind you, and set the mug in the sink. You ran your thumb over the material of his black hoodie and couldn’t help but grin. “So, I was hoping you could help me with something today while we spend the morning together.” While he gave you an inquisitive glance, he didn’t look any less thrilled about the days he faced hidden in the basement. “I told Sans, when he originally asked me if Undyne and…” you paused a moment to remember the name of her brother, “Aquamarine could stay over. I offered up my room for them to sleep in so I need to clean it up.”

You pointed at your duffel bag by the fridge where the mass of cream color from your sheets dominated the pile.

“I don’t like cleaning.” Mutt said stiffly, his sour mood still blinding him as to where you were going with this.

“Do you maybe have an idea where I could stay in the meantime?” you asked, trying to help him get there without asking outright. The scowl on Mutt’s face slowly slid away and his red lights widened at you. “I mean, I don’t like the idea of sleeping on the couch, not when I have a beta who might let me stay with him for a few days.”

A broad grin stretched Mutt’s face and his gold fang winked in the light at you. He pulled you into a bone crushing hug and kissed the top of your head. “You better mean me, pretty bird, because I’m going to flip shit if you’re talking about someone else.” Mutt held you close and you rubbed his back, the bumps of his spine kneading the inside of your palm. “Thanks, Robin,” he whispered in your ear. “I… know it’s only a few days, but I hate the thought of being alone. Especially when everyone else is just on the other side of a door.”

“I know, and I don’t ever want you feeling alone,” you said, kissing the side of his grinning jaw as he released you. “Want to grab the flour for me? We can start moving my stuff down after the meeting.”

Mutt eagerly obliged and asked what the two of you were making. You were in a bit of a baking mood, something you hadn’t been able to actually do in awhile, so you thought you’d do a fluffy pancake with a sweet whipped cream and sliced strawberry top.

“Kind of like a strawberry shortcake,” you explained, pulling bowls and a flat pan out from the cupboards, “but with more emphasis on the breakfast aspect. Dessert and breakfast are the only two things I can cook besides mac and cheese without consulting a cookbook.”

“Mmm, my sexy little baker,” Mutt purred. He slipped a sensual hand down your bare back and over your backside, giving it a small squeeze. Your cheeks became heated from the touch, but you smiled. It was nice that his mood had turned around so much. “If I get whipped cream all over you, do I get to lick it off?”

“Mutt!” you elbowed him in the ribs, your face burning while he snickered in delight. You pointed towards the fridge, instructing him on what to get for the sweet cream.

The rest of the pack returned just as you were measuring out the first of the pancakes onto the flat pan. Mutt greeted Milord with a cheery hello, to which Milord just looked confused by his brother’s sudden change in demeanor. Pap came in next, noticed the empty mugs, and offered to make another round of coffee which you gladly accepted. Axe trailed in last, slowly dragging the copper colored slippers on his feet. He still wore the black sweater dress he borrowed from you, and looked kind of irritable that he had been woken up so early, but his skull regained his usual vacant smile when he saw you cooking. He immediately took a seat at the table next to Milord to watch you and Mutt cook.

“Is anyone going to explain why Axe has donned a woman’s attire?” Milord asked. Mutt laughed at the question and Milord scowled at him. “Or is the subject of today’s meeting the fact we now have a delta in our midst?”

“...I’m… not phi,” Axe said, not taking his single red light off you as you flipped a pancake.

“Yeah, what are you, exactly?” Mutt asked. He paused while slicing strawberries to glance inquisitive at Axe.

“...I’m me.”

“But there’s usually a  _ name _ for what you are, bro,” Mutt rolled his eye lights, put a hand on his hip, and stared Axe down. “So are you gender fluid or some kind of metrosexual or are you just a good old cross dresser?”

“...I just like… what I like. ...why do I… have to put a name… to it?” Axe tilted his skull in confusion. Mutt sighed and went back to the cutting board.

“You’re worse than Sans is, sometimes,” Mutt shook his skull. Pap let out a small bark of laughter. You narrowed your eyes at him, wondering, as he passed you and Mutt a pair of lattes. They weren’t like how you made them, they were still a little too strong for your taste, but you appreciated the extra caffeine buzz.

Pap made very, very sure that Axe got a hot chocolate and told the entire room to not allow him to steal their coffees. You snorted, trying to hold in your laughter, at the bewildered looks Milord and Mutt sent Axe’s way. At Milord’s request, Pap explained why Axe was not allowed coffee. It gave him way too much energy. He’d tear around the house until caught and thrown outside to run it off.

Mutt howled with laughter and held his ribs, the whisk in his hand dripping partially whipped cream all over the counter. Milord pinched the bridge of his nasal ridge and shook his skull. “How, by the angel and ten colors of life, are you older than me?” Milord asked Axe coolly. “You act like a complete child at times.”

“...learn to… have fun, little bro.” Axe reached out to pinch Milord’s cheekbone and his hand was swiftly smacked away by Milord. “...it would be… very fun to see… you let go… now and then.”

“He is,” you added brightly. “Milord’s taking time off for himself. That’s a start.”

“Man, next you’re going to tell me that snowdrakes fly,” Mutt shook his skull. He slowly stopped as he remembered the earlier conversation of that morning and shock replaced his amused expression. You giggled and your spatula very nearly missed the stack of pancakes you were slowly building on a plate.

“Told you I’d get him to take one eventually,” you said to Mutt under your breath, winking at him. Milord had, after all, agreed to take his three days off to keep you happy. Mutt stared at you like you had achieved some kind of miracle and your giggles returned in force.

“I DON’T THINK WE NEED THAT MUCH, HONEY,” Pap studied the dozens of pancakes you had made and watched you pour more batter onto the pan.

“I’m making more for the others when they wake up. They’ll still be good even if they’re cold.” You grinned, then glared over your shoulder. “So don’t you touch the leftovers, Axe Gaster!”

“...yes ma’am.” Axe sank a bit in his seat, his red light flashing at you over the mischievous grin on his skull.

“And don’t you get Butch, or anyone else, to give you a second plate, either!”

Axe frowned at that and Pap beamed at you. Feeling a little bad that you were so stern (but not really, since Axe would’ve somehow found a way to eat everything if left to his own devices,) you told Mutt to give him the whisk when he had finished with the whipped cream. Axe happily took it. He watched you while his glowing, red tongue snaked through the arched tines and you flushed pink. Milord smacked Axe on the scar-free portion of his skull and shot him an icy glare.

“Don’t be lewd,” Milord hissed. Axe grinned and turned to watch him instead while he licked the whisk, deliberately trying to make Milord uncomfortable as a joke. Milord moved to smack him upside the skull again and Axe dodged, snickering under his breath.

“SO WHAT IS THE MEETING ABOUT, HONEY?” Pap asked while you and Mutt served up plates piled high with warm pancakes, sweet whipped cream, and red strawberries.

You tucked a spoon under Axe’s plate and handed it to him. “The future,” you said simply, giving Axe a wink. His smile nearly touched both sides of his skull and his eye light shined at you.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For updates about new chapters, news on story delays, or just want to chat in general, hit me up. (:
> 
> https://www.instagram.com/oolongteacup426/?hl=en


	39. Ch 36 - The Meeting

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another chapter out! :D I hope you all enjoy it.

Ch 36 - The Meeting

The members of your pack, Mutt, Axe, Milord, and Pap, sat clustered at one end of the kitchen table while you all ate breakfast together. The others had insisted you sit at the head of the table. Pap and Milord sat on your left while Axe and Mutt sat on your right. It made you feel a little weird that they placed you where they did, but Milord had reminded you as they sat that you were the alpha. Despite your insistence on an equal status, you were the common factor in the relationship and they still ultimately followed your lead. 

“THESE ARE DELICIOUS, HONEY!” Pap said brightly. He eagerly cut up another bite of your strawberry shortcake-pancakes and shoved the overly full fork between his teeth. You beamed at him. A warm glow of affection from the praise rose in your chest.

Mutt and Axe had gotten into a small debate over his choice of dress (Mutt thought one of your shirt dresses would be far more flattering for his figure) while you discussed your morning recipe with Papyrus. You had remembered that he liked strawberries and were more than happy to talk him through the steps of your dish.

It was Milord who cleared his non-existent throat and drew everyone's attention towards him. His own plate was already empty. “I will remind you all,” he said coolly, his purple eye lights sweeping over the early gathering, “that Papyrus and I have delayed our departure in favor of a meeting. The sooner we begin this discussion the better.”

Axe eagerly nodded, surprising Mutt and Pap with his enthusiasm. You fidgeted with your fork. It had been a slight hope of yours that Milord would at least let everyone finish eating. It had been a spur of the moment request - a subject thrown out to try and keep Milord and Pap from going to the Underground so soon after Milord had finally returned home. That didn’t change the fact that this was an important topic. You and Axe had already discussed it, but you hadn’t yet decided on how to best approach it with everyone else.

“Yeah, what’s this about anyway?” Mutt asked, looking at you over his forkful of whipped cream covered pancake. “You started talking about ‘future’ business and made it sound serious.”

“Well…” you let your voice trail off and stabbed at your pancakes. Where did you start? How? Axe, who was on your immediate right, reached under the table and gave your knee a supportive squeeze. You glanced up at him. The wide smile he put on since you hinted at the topic had not yet left his skull.

You set your fork onto your plate with a small clatter and put your hands into your lap. One of them found Axe’s touch on your knee and you held onto his wrist, to try to calm your nerves by feeding off his excited energy. 

“I mentioned that this has already been brought up to me by one of you,” you began slowly, trying to keep everyone’s potential reactions in mind. You expected at least one or two not so positive ones, so it would be better to leave Axe anonymous to avoid anyone directing frustration at him. You also needed to make sure they didn’t misinterpret your intentions and that you were sensitive to their pasts. Raising your gaze from your plate, you took a deep breath to calm yourself and looked at each of them in turn as you spoke. “One of the things I ask of you guys is to communicate your desires to me. I really appreciate when you do, since I can’t read your minds or hear your emotions. It’s also easier for us all to work together when we know what we all want and if we have a common goal. All of you have gotten my mark at different times, and some of you are still new to the pack,” you nodded at Pap, who gave you an appreciative grin, “but I want to make it clear that this topic is simply a discussion. It is not an immediate desire, but it’s something to talk about since I’d like to think we’ll be together for a long time. If this is something we do decide to do later on, it’ll be something that all of us do together.”

With the exception of Axe, the rest of your betas looked confused by your impromptu speech. The whipped cream on Mutt’s suspended fork slowly dripped onto his half-eaten stack of pancakes while he studied you. Pap set his fork back onto his plate, his skull tilted curiously as he patiently waited for you to go on. Milord, who’s expression was fixed in a mask-like frown, leaned back in his chair and folded his arms over his half-zipped, leather jacket.

“Um,” you turned pink and picked at the stitched poppies of your dress, “I wanted… to see what you guys thought… what you thought about… having kids one day?”

Though the last words you spoke were quiet, you knew the rest had heard you by a collective widening of eye lights. Mutt’s fork dropped to his plate with a loud clatter and Milord looked like you had just shocked him with a cattle prod.

“THAT’S A, UH, A BIG QUESTION, HONEY,” Pap scratched at the back of his skull and looked a little uncomfortable. “ARE YOU SURE I SHOULD BE HERE FOR THIS? I UNDERSTAND THAT THE OTHERS HAVE HAD YOUR MARK LONGER THAN ME SO I’M NOT UPSET IF I NEED TO SIT THIS OUT...”

“Of course you should be here! You’re part of this pack, too, no matter if you’ve had your mark for two weeks or two months!” you said quickly. Pap still looked a bit unsure, so you stressed your point once again. “I just want us to talk about it and start sharing thoughts. That’s what I meant earlier when I said this is about the future. This isn’t something I expect us to decide on for years. It’s a big decision, you know?”

“YOU’RE YOU’RE THINKING THAT FAR AHEAD?” Pap raised a bony brow at you and you nodded. Mutt narrowed his eye lights from across the table. His gaze darted between Axe’s quiet excitement, Milord’s sullen mood, and Pap’s growing smile.

“Well, sure.” You turned pink and avoided Pap’s softening white lights as he stared at you. “Family is important to me. I think I always kind of knew that I’d want to be a mom someday even if I’m not ready to take that step just yet. There are a lot of things to figure out, but you guys mean the world to me and I want to know what you think about the idea, too.” 

“...I’VE ALWAYS LIKED KIDS.” Pap’s gentle hand rested on the top of your head. You felt his fingers gently squeeze the top of your skull as he thought, then he withdrew the affectionate touch. “THEY HAVE SO MUCH ENERGY AND CREATIVITY. IT’S A LOT TO THINK ABOUT RIGHT NOW, BUT I DO LIKE THE THOUGHT OF HAVING SOME RUNNING AROUND THE HOUSE ONE DAY.”

“...me too.” Axe practically beamed at Pap in appreciation for his support. “...Willow wants to… wait until she graduates… and finds a job… at the very least. …but wouldn’t it… be nice someday?”

You gave Axe a tired smile as he shifted restlessly in his seat, too excited to sit still. If he wanted the others to know he had broached the subject first, that was his choice to make. Axe looked between Mutt and Milord, the betas who had yet to give their opinion on the matter. Mutt shifted uncomfortably beneath Axe’s unyielding stare and Milord glared at the tabletop.

“I don’t really know,” Mutt admitted, his raspy voice quiet. He looked between you and the other members of the pack. You noticed him fidgeting in his pocket beneath the table, no doubt looking for the cigarettes he had left downstairs. He couldn’t smoke upstairs, technically he wasn’t supposed to smoke in the house at all, but you wondered if he just wanted the comforting feel of a cigarette between his teeth. 

“It’s okay if you don’t know,” you said gently, trying to reassure him. “I understand it’s a big thing to think about.”

“I don’t really have anything against kids,” Mutt shrugged. He gave up on his nervous fidgeting and just let his hands rest in the pockets of his hoodie. “I just haven’t really met a lot of them, either. They don’t exactly pop up around barracks or in the red light district, you know? Not like I’ve had many chances to meet one, either, after I got this,” he pointed at his golden fang. “I have no idea how to handle one. Do you honestly think I’d be able to be a part of their life? Given my… circumstances?”

“...there’s a… family loophole, right? ...just have them… only call you ‘dad’. ...if they don’t know… your name they can’t… mess up and… talk about you… accidentally.” Axe grinned, his red light shining. He drew up his ankles to sit cross-legged in his chair. “...I’ll show you… the rest. ...it’s not that… hard. ...just teach them... keep them happy… and fed. ...we have plenty… of food here… so the hard part’s done.”

“I’d still have to think about it more.” Mutt shrugged and slouched back in his chair. “I’m not totally against it. I just… ” his red lights flickered towards you and his gaze searched your face. “It might be impossible for us to make a hybrid, you know. …have you thought about who gets to try first?”

You shook your head and Mutt’s hopeful expression fell a bit. “I have no idea how I’d choose between any of you for that. Even if we could be successful, I still would like us to consider adoption. Why don’t worry about the fine details later? For when we’re a bit more serious about this? Today is just to discuss the idea if it would be nice to start a family someday.”

“YEAH, IT WOULD BE NICE, SOMEDAY,” Pap nodded in agreement. He scratched at his chin in thought, then grinned at whatever scene he was imagining. “AND WITH SO MANY OF US IN THE PACK EVENTUALLY, WE COULD HAVE QUITE A BIG FAMILY. I’D HAVE TO BUILD ANOTHER WING TO THE HOUSE.”

Axe’s single red light shined with appreciation at Pap.

“What about you, Milord?” you gently asked, focusing on the silently fuming skeleton on your far left. You remembered him expressing before that he didn’t want kids and you wondered if that was part of why he was silent. The others might get upset if he’s the only one giving a hard ‘no’, so you encouraged him to speak his mind. “It’s okay if you’re against it, but why don’t you share a bit of your thought process? This is supposed to be a discussion, after all.”

Milord studied you with a hard gaze. “I have expressed once before that I do not wish to have children. If it is your desire to adopt, so be it, but I will not make an effort to convince you to do so.”

“...why not?” Axe asked, his skull tilted in confusion. “...you don’t… like kids? ...or is it… because you’re… worried you ...don’t you think… Willow would make… a great mom? ...she’s not like… ours, you know.”

Milord visibly stiffened at those words. “...how would you know?” he asked quietly, coldly. “You never even knew her.”

There it was, the subject you feared would pop up and cause problems. Before you could say anything, Mutt cut in with a bitter mumble, “Don’t worry about Milord. The four of us will do just fine without him with a kid. Trust me when I say that if he doesn’t want it he won’t make time for anyone but himself.”

“I have always made an effort,” Milord growled, the restrained anger in his voice further chilling the air around him.

Mutt snorted in disbelief. “For you, you mean.”

“Why don’t we,” you cut in loudly, leaning forward to cut off the glare shared between Mutt and Milord, “give Milord a chance to explain his reasons himself instead of assuming things? Then we can discuss it without any verbal jabs at each other.” Your voice hardened at the end of that sentence and you shot a look across the table at Mutt. He folded his arms over his chest, grumbled under his breath, and turned his gaze towards the wall. You knew there was still a lot of unsaid baggage between those two, but this was not the time for them to get into another fistfight over what should be an exciting topic.

A long, tense silence hung over the table while the four of you waited for Milord to speak up again. His purple eye lights kept glancing between everyone. At Mutt’s agitated body language. At Axe’s still, patient expression; and at Pap’s slightly confused one. He put off looking at you. When he did, his gaze quickly moved away and his expression became stoic.

“While the reasons are multi-faceted, we hardly have the leisure to delve into each one,” Milord said stiffly. “Since we lack ample time I will address two points. Firstly, if it were a simple matter of adoption of a human child in the far future then I would be slightly more receptive to, though ultimately against, such a proposal. I will never have ample enough time to dedicate myself to raising a child with my career. However, I am very aware that if Zeta retains even just us four in the pack then the child will not want for attention or caretakers and this is not simply my decision alone to make. The main problem lies in the rest of you entertaining the notion of impregnating her. Creating a hybrid should be impossible. To consider, even hypothetically, that such a thing lies within the realm of possibility opens an entirely new line of unsettling outcomes.”

“LIKE WHAT?” Pap asked, his brow furrowed as he tried to no doubt think of all these possibilities Milord had hinted at. “I THINK IT’S VERY POSSIBLE. HONEY IS A LOT MORE LIKE US THAN I FIRST THOUGHT. I COULD… I COULD SEE US BEING A RISK TO HER IF WE’RE IN, YOU KNOW, THAT PHASE, BUT IF WE TAKE PRECAUTIONS SHE’D BE PERFECTLY SAFE!”

“It is not so simple a matter of her well-being during a rut, Papyrus!” Milord snapped. Pap flushed orange and looked down at his lap. “No matter the similarities between us she is simply not a monster! Our females are designed to carry and developmentally nurture a being made entirely of magic. How would a child draw such volumes of energy, even an optimistic half of what our young require, from her? The only source she carries is her soul. What if she did, by some sheer, slight impossibility, become impregnated and the child parasitically leeches magic from the core of her essence until it kills her? We would lose them both! If, by some miracle, she survived such a pregnancy, consider then what could happen if a hybrid is born. The racial relationship between the surface and the Underground is strained at best. It would be cruel to have a child who could be ostracized by both of our species. Simply for being born and unable to identify as a true monster or human! Even if we merely adopted a child of our own species, you cannot deny that our superior strength, both physically and magically, poses a constant risk to our alpha. A child does not possess the restraint we consistently attempt to express!”

The air around the table grew heavy from those pessimistic ideas. Some of the questions, about carrying a child, were ones you considered a bit when Axe first brought up the idea of family to you. The idea of a mixed-race child being shunned, however, was something you had not considered. “I don’t know what to expect if we started a family but… I’m glad you’ve thought about these things, Milord. I’d like to think we could figure most of those things out by working together. If I did somehow end up expecting... society might not be so heartless to a hybrid,” you said quietly. “I think humans have the capability to become accepting of monsters. Both of our species are still in an adjustment period from when you guys first came to the surface. There will always be racism, on both sides, but a few years down the road we could live in an integrated society where we mostly get along. I think a hybrid child born from love would mean a lot.”

“Do not be so naïve, Zeta. You are aware of my thoughts on that matter from the night you marked me,” Milord said darkly. You bit your lip and looked at the table. He was talking about the war he was still fighting to prevent. 

“BUT HONEY’S RIGHT!” Pap verbally stepped in and put a reassuring hand on your shoulder. “SHE’S TOLD YOU ABOUT HER PETITION, HASN’T SHE? THAT’S GOING VERY WELL! I DON’T SEE WHY YOU HAVE TO BE SO NEGATIVE ABOUT IT. ALL OF US GET ALONG JUST FINE AND MOST OF THE MONSTERS I KNOW ARE EXCITED TO MEET HUMANS!”

“You grew up in District 1, under rule by Queen Toriel,” Milord said coolly, “Of course her subjects would show favoritism towards humans. Other Queens do not share identical opinions and the population is not distributed evenly among the Districts they influence. The favoritism mostly displayed in this house is still a minority viewpoint among our fellow monsters. We simply cannot force the populace to forget past transgression.”

“MAYBE SOME WON’T FORGET, BUT I STILL THINK IT WILL MEAN A LOT TO OTHER MONSTERS IF HUMANS ARE FRIENDLY TOWARDS US. HONEY CHANGED RED’S MIND. HE HATED HUMANS BEFORE! AND IT’S NOT HONEY’S FAULT, OR ANY OF THE OTHER HUMANS ON THE SURFACE, THAT THEIR ANCESTORS DID WHAT THEY DID.”

“No matter what, we won’t know for sure what things will be like until a couple years down the road and we see it for ourselves,” Mutt shrugged. The weight of Milord’s theoreticals seemed to have sobered him. Enough, at least, that he was willing to let whatever ill-will he had before drop. “We’re not deciding on this for a while, right? Let’s just see how things go. Pap is right. The surface is completely different from what we thought in the Underground and things change fast up here.”

“...and I think Willow… would be okay.” Axe added. “...the well in her soul… is like a lake… verses our puddle of magic. ...she can’t use it… but she gets lots of magic… from eating our food. ...we can ask Sans… to look at her soul and... the baby’s to see… if they’re alright. ...he’ll want to… after he’s marked. ...he likes kids, too.”

“That’s a good point,” Mutt nodded to Axe. Pap, however, looked mildly upset at the mention of Sans’ mark. Mutt, noticing this look but missing the subtle meaning of it that you caught, added, “Robin’s affected by your magic differently, but I don’t see any reason why your power wouldn’t work the same on the kid if it’s half monster. We’d all count on you for your healing ability, you know.”

Those words seemed to give Pap quite a bit of reassurance. He gave Mutt an appreciative nod before looking down to study the red mits covering his own hands. 

“What of Zeta’s well being?” Milord’s icy tone took on a note of impatience as he argued with Axe. “Human women have a gestation period of nine months. Ours have fifteen, nearly twice that! No matter how vast her well of magic is, I doubt her body could manage the physical stress, nor could her soul sustain a constant drain on its magic for well over a year. Her doctors are ignorant in matters of magic and our scant understanding of human biology will be of little assistance. What could we possibly do for her when we inevitably come across a complication?”

“Fifteen months!?” you yelped, more than surprised by that fact. That seemed completely unreal.

“How the hell do you know that?” Mutt snapped irritably, immediately sitting forward to shrewdly glare at Milord. “About human gestation periods? I know for a fact that you knew jack shit about humans before Robin moved in and if you’ve never wanted kids-!”

Milord glared right back at Mutt, his purple lights thinning with every word he spoke. “I requested general educational material from Zeta. You have had her as an alpha far longer than I and you did not seek to inform yourself? How incredibly selfish of you.”

“Yeah, I do try to understand her. I just ask her instead of researching her behind her back,” Mutt growled.

“DO YOU MEAN THAT BOOK OF HERS WITH ALL THE WEIRD, FLESHY DRAWINGS?” Pap asked Milord, his voice a little louder than it needed to be, as he sought to distract his brothers before the air between them became too tense again. “I SAW THAT, TOO. IT DOESN’T MAKE MUCH SENSE, BUT IT’S INTERESTING TO KNOW THAT HUMANS HAVE SKELETONS INSIDE OF THEM.”

“...really?” Axe’s red light widened and he looked up at Pap in astonishment. “...how do you know… they weren’t just old… monster drawings?”

An orange flush bloomed across Pap’s nasal ridge. “I-I SAW A P-PICTURE OF HER HUMERUS,” he stammered, looking resolutely away from the entire group to hide his color. “FROM WHEN SHE BROKE IT AND WAS IN THE HOSPITAL.”

Axe immediately lost the light in his socket and growled. “...who did it?” he asked, turning his furious look towards you. The smell of iron bubbled up from beneath the table, from the red plasma leaking out of his clenched fists into a vague shape. The other guys around the table immediately grew tense from the scent and shifted, readying themselves to leap to their feet.

“Axe, calm down,” you quickly reached out and held one of his fists in your hands, giving it a squeeze. The idea of a bone breaking must be terrifying for a skeleton monster. “The house did when the ceiling collapsed on me. Back when I got my scars almost eight years ago.” 

Axe sat, tense in the following silence and his dark sockets studied your reassuring touch. The look of rage on his skull slowly subsided. The half formed cleaver collapsed, melting away. The smell of iron also faded. Axe’s eye light returned. He studied your patient smile, then his gaze darted to his nervous brothers. “...sorry,” he mumbled sheepishly, sinking in his chair.

“For fuck’s sake, Axe,” Mutt breathed, though he was still tense in his seat. “I haven’t seen you go into a fit that fast since you first moved here.”

“...I will destroy… anyone who hurts her... again,” Axe voice was almost cheery and he wore his usual vacant grin. He could’ve said he was buying a new hoodie and that would’ve fit his tone far better. “...especially… if they break her.”

“Going back to the main topic!” you half-shouted, trying desperately to steer the conversation away from any more dark subjects. The last time Axe had gotten that over protective was after Cam had punched you. You did  _ not _ want the others to know you had hidden that from them. The guys turned their attention towards you, though they still kept Axe in their line of sight. “We all have something in common right now. I know that I don’t know much about how your guy’s biology works, and I know you don’t know everything about mine. So this might be a good thing for us to discuss next - what if I went on birth control? I know we can agree, no matter what our later views on the subject are, that we don’t want kids right now. Why don’t we put all of our minds at ease by taking more preventative measures?”

Everyone seemed a bit confused by your proposal. “Very well,” Milord said calmly, seeming placated from his earlier irritation by your new idea, “explain your proposal, Zeta.”

Heat rose to your cheeks, fed by your growing embarrassment, as you realized a mistake you had made. Meanwhile, your betas patiently waited for you to explain. It felt almost like explaining your period again to Axe and Butch, but this time the guys didn’t have a comparison they understood to fill in the blanks. Monsters did not have medicine. They didn’t have contraceptives like humans.

“W-well, there are a few things,” you stuttered, trying to recall all the options your mom had given you back in high school and first became sexually active. That was nearly ten years ago and you barely remembered details outside of the two methods you had used. “I… I’d have to double check, but there are inserts that you can just kind of set and forget. I can’t remember exactly how those work, but they either use hormones or if they’re some kind of spermicide... That second option might not work on you guys, though. Spermicides were designed specifically for humans. We could try either the pill or condoms?”

“WHAT ARE THOSE?” Pap asked slowly, his bony brow raised at you.

“Heh, uh, well, condoms are more for you guys, since you’d put it on before a, um, claim,” you flushed bright red and looked down at the tabletop. You were a fucking adult, for crying out loud. Why did talking about sex with them individually not embarrass you but talking about birth control to a group did? “They’re these… usually latex-made balloons you slip over your junk and they keep everything from getting inside your mate after your peak.”

“Nope,” Mutt said immediately and waved a hand in front of him, shooing the idea away. “We feel with our magic, Robin. If we cover that up we couldn’t feel anything at all.”

“R-right,” you nodded. “Then that just leaves the pill. I used to be on that back in high school. You guys wouldn’t have to worry at all about it. I would just have to take it every day around the same time. It uses hormones to trick my body into thinking it’s pregnant when it’s not, and because of that I stop ovulating. I’d still get my bleeding cycle once a month, but you guys wouldn’t have to deal with the smell of my heat at all unless I went off the pill!”

You looked up from the table, feeling you had at last presented a good idea, and almost just as quickly felt yourself deflate. The looks you were getting were either ones of shock or completely baffled.

“Zeta,” Milord said gently, coming out of his shock, “you do understand that we would be able to smell such a change in you? If your body believes it is pregnant, even falsely, it would emit those very hormones you just described and influence your scent. Our own senses would very likely be duped and we would then have our own set of instincts to then overcome. Mainly a potential for possessiveness and aggression to stimuli that normally we could ignore. You are our alpha and we would become overprotective of you during what we perceive to be one of your most vulnerable times in life.”

“...it would also be… depressing,” Axe added quietly. His red eye light darted over your face and you could see a sad flicker in the light. “...to think… you’re expecting. ...to smell it… but knowing… we’re wrong. ...I know I… don’t want that.”

The rest of your guts fully deflated and you sank in your chair. “Basically, you’re saying that the only option we have for birth control is to avoid a claim during my heat?”

“Who said you have to do that?” Mutt let out a raspy chuckle, then laughed openly at your wide eyed stare. “Look, pretty bird, we can still claim you and take care of you during a heat. As long as you don’t intend to breed with us and send us into rut, then you’re fine.”

“You speak under the assumption she can control her body’s intent!” Milord snapped, cutting off Mutt’s raspy cackle. Mutt quickly fell silent and glared across the table at his older brother. “She cannot influence when her body goes into heat, correct? Therefore, it would be unwise to assume she can control her breeding intent. Or do you derive some perverse pleasure from taking monumental risks?”

“Um, excuse me,” you raised your hand halfway into the air, cutting off the sparks starting to fly again between those two. “What’s rut exactly? Axe told me it’s the male version of heat, but since males don’t ovulate what does that mean for you…?”

It was the brothers’ turn to act embarrassed. Colors bloomed around the table on three of your betas’ skulls and they shifted in their chairs. Thankfully, though, the argument between Mutt and Milord was quickly dropped in the uncomfortable silence.

“I mean…” Mutt scratched at the back of his neck vertebrae, a blush of burnt orange across his skull while he avoided eye contact. “We don’t go into it often but… we get really rowdy when we do.”

You quirked your brow. It wasn’t like Mutt to be so vague with an explanation. “How often does that happen?”

“O-ONLY WHEN WE BREED.” Pap’s voice got a little high pitched at the end. His skull was flushed a bright, vibrant orange. “I”M SURE NONE OF US HAS ACTUALLY BEEN THROUGH ONE BEFORE. IF WE HAD WE’D HAVE A KID ALREADY HERE IN THE HOUSE.”

“We’ve all had a pseudo-rut,” Mutt mumbled, determinedly avoiding your gaze specifically as he corrected Pap. “Every monster goes through either one of those or a faux-heat once they hit magical maturity. They’re weaker versions of the true thing since it’s just our body testing its systems for fertility.”

“I KNOW THAT! AND I DON’T KNOW ABOUT YOU, BUT I WAS A COMPLETE ASS DURING MY PSEUDO!” Pap huffed loudly and folded his arms over his white, button up shirt. “IF THE REAL THING IS WORSE…”

“Axe, I am severely disappointed that you would allow your explanation of the fundamentals to be so lax.” Milord steepled his fingers together and let his hands rest on the tabletop. He shook his slightly lavender skull at Axe’s apologetic smile, then stared across the table at his younger brother. Axe was the only one who didn’t seem to be embarrassed by the subject. “Mutt, given how promiscuous you are, how did you not fill in the blanks when presented the opportunity? You are well versed in all matters surrounding the subject and are not shy about discussing your more carnal desires. Did you simply wish her to remain ignorant?”

“She never asked!” Mutt leaned forward in his chair to defend himself and jabbed a thumb at Axe. “I thought  _ he _ explained everything just fine! She wasn’t even ready to be that physical in the beginning. I was respecting her desire to wait - if I pushed her too fast and dumped a bunch of unwanted information on her... that would’ve freaked her out!  _ Especially _ with how rut is!”

Pap, Mutt, and Milord started to speak in heated tones to each other. You looked to Axe, who seemed very amused that his brothers were so flustered, and let out a small sigh.

“Guys!” you shouted, standing up to get all of their attention. They slowly fell silent and turned their red, purple, and white gazes at you. “Look, I get this is an embarrassing subject for you. Everything surrounding reproduction can get a little awkward, but can someone  _ please _ just explain what rut is so we can move on? Human males don’t have anything like that for me to make a comparison. Understanding these things about each other is important if we’re talking about family planning.”

Axe, who was the only one unphased by the subject matter, opened his jaw to answer you. Milord quickly shushed him from across the table. “I will do it myself,” he said coolly, glaring at Axe. “If Zeta had been given a satisfactory explanation of our species’ cycles from the beginning we would not have this discomfiting situation.”

Pap looked immensely relieved that someone else was explaining. Mutt looked extremely irritated that someone wasn’t him. Axe tilted his skull curiously at Milord. You let out a breath of relief and resumed your seat at the table. Finally, some answers.

“While Axe has, to my understanding, explained the basics of our reproductive phases to you,” Milord said to you, his cool tone suddenly business-like, “I wish to start at the beginning to ensure you have complete understanding of this subject. You have expressed before that you wish to understand our biology, so perhaps expanding on this information will be of interest to you. I will attempt to avoid repeating anything you already understand. If I do repeat a subject, forgive me.

The process of breeding for us monsters, as you guess, begins with the female. They are unique compared to males in that their bodies are designed to gather and retain magic outside of the well of their soul. It is separate from the magic they can call upon for their abilities and is believed to be stored along their alchemical matrix in their bodies, similar to the way humans store fat, although such storage is not always represented so physically. This theory is not proven, as monsters do not create cadavers upon their death to be experimented upon, but observational evidence from studies of old supports this explanation. A female with a less ample diet goes into heat far less when compared to one with more opportunity. Similarly, females who intentionally restrict their diet to prevent such magical retention will not go into heat at all. Therefore, when a female seeks to ready herself to breed, it is not uncommon for her to spend years building her magical reserves and gathering a pack in preparation to go into heat.”

Milord stared when you raised your hand. He seemed confused by the gesture, enough to pause at least, so you took a chance.

“You mean they can control when they go into heat completely?” you asked. Milord shook his skull.

“Not entirely, since their bodies cannot retain their stores of magic indefinitely. When a female has either reached her capacity and must expend the energy, or she has decided the time is most favorable, she will induce heat. If she does not, her body will do this for her upon reaching its own limits. Once a female’s heat begins, a portion of the magic she had stored is released to aid her in maintaining said state. The entire phase lasts anywhere from several days to over a week, depending on the individual, and is not exactly comfortable for said female. They ache for physical contact and will become very driven by their desires. Those that share an emotional bond with her will be drawn in by her scent to aid in lessening her discomfort. If a female somehow finds herself alone, or is unable to be satisfied for long periods during their heat, they are known to become quite violent in their own efforts to expend their stored magic. Her body temperature will also noticeably rise in response to the spike in energy caused by the steady release of stored magic. Thus, the nomenclature of ‘heat.’”

You raised your hand again and Milord, understanding now that you had a question, nodded his skull at you for permission to speak. “You said the scent only draws her mates? Doesn’t it affect other males, too?”

“STARS, NO!” Pap’s white eye lights widened at you. “IF ONE FEMALE IN HEAT WAS ENOUGH TO AFFECT ALL OF US…!”

“It’s because of bonding, pretty bird,” Mutt grinned at you, rescuing Pap when he started to get flustered again. “The stronger the emotional bond between an alpha and her mate, the more enticing the scent. If someone isn’t interested in you they can still tell when you go in and out of your cycle, but they won’t be affected by it like your mates are. Male, female, or phi, they’ll all be attracted to their alpha in heat.”

Milord cleared his non-existent throat, bringing your attention back to him. “That brings us to males. When a female has gone into heat, and is surrounded by her pack, she will choose one of the breedable males at any time during her heat and share her intent with them. During our formation before a claim we are particularly susceptible to this intent and, should we harbor the same, our magic will pick up on the shared desire and send us into rut.

When a male goes into rut, it is very similar to a female in heat, though with a few key differences. Rut does not last nearly as long as we do not have the same retentive abilities as females. Males draw from the very well of their soul for this event rather than upon stores of magic. Given the different source, rut is far more intense for a male, despite is more infrequent occurrence in our lives, than heat is for a female. Males in rut become driven purely by instinct and the purpose for which rut exists. Our actions have the potential to be… unseemly, since we lack much of the self control or normal minds possess. It is our body's aid in ensuring conception, you understand.”

When Milord felt silent you gave him a quiet nod of appreciation. It did help a lot, having a more technical explanation of their biology. At least the presentation didn’t seem very awkward for him. It also, now that you had a more thorough understanding of female monsters, explained Axe, Butch, and Mutt’s initial freakouts to hear you went into heat every month. Their females could mostly control when it happened, you couldn’t, and if they went for so long without ‘satisfaction’ as Milord put it...

“That’s why I didn’t want to just drop all this on you in the beginning, pretty bird,” Mutt’s raspy voice was almost a whisper and he gave you a very apologetic look. “You were already freaked out, back then, that your soul could force us into things we didn’t want and that your scent would compel us into things we can’t control. We’re drawn to you because we care about you, not because your body is forcing it on us, and we’re able to respect you when you say ‘no.’ It’s not quite the same with rut. After consent is given up front it’s not something we can just take back once it starts.”

“IT’S... EMBARRASSING.” Pap let out a heavy sigh and slouched in his chair. “FEMALES ARE SO… SENSUAL AND INVITING DURING THEIR HEAT. I’VE NEVER HEARD ANOTHER MALE SAY WHAT IT WAS LIKE TO GO THROUGH RUT, BUT I KNOW ALL OF US REMEMBER HOW STUPID WE WERE IN PSEUDO. THE HOT FEELING ALONE WAS ENOUGH TO DRIVE ME NUTS, NOT TO MENTION THOSE CRAVINGS-!”

“Cold water, bro,” Mutt shrugged, his red lights watching as Pap slouched in his chair to hide his fresh orange blush. “You lived in a District with tons of snow. Should’ve just rolled around in it to cool your body down. I practically lived in a river when I went through my pseudo. It doesn’t help the cravings, but at least you can think a little better.”

“...I… DIDN’T THINK ABOUT THAT.” Pap furrowed his brow and stared down at the table and mumbled, “SO THAT’S HOW YOU KNEW WHAT TO DO…”

“This is precisely why none of us can initiate a claim on Zeta during her heat.” Milord’s icy tone interjected. “The risk is far too great if she is unable to control her body’s breeding intent. Even if we are absolutely sure we harbor no intention to procreate with her all it could take is a single thought of agreement to her heat’s true calling to send us into such a state. It matters not if the attempt is successful - we will be driven to try until the phase runs its course.”

“Does that mean monster males are… only fertile during rut?” you asked, still trying to understand everything.

Mutt nodded at you. “The whole system still works,” he said, gesturing towards his pelvis, “we’re just shooting blanks if we’re not in rut. It takes a lot of magic to try and make a new soul, Robin. We can’t physically afford to expend that much energy just to fool around.”

“...so we can still… take care of her… just fine.” Axe pointed out. “...so she stays calm.”

“That might not be a good idea,” you said softly, apologetically, to Axe. “I know you guys will want to help me out during my heat, but I’m not like monster females. I’m not going to get… violent or anything like that if I end up a little sexually frustrated for a few days. I want to be mindful of you guys, too. If you’re sensitive to my intent before you form, and none of us are sure I can control it, it’s way safer to avoid getting that intimate. None of us want any accidents.”

“You sure about that, Robin?” Mutt asked. You nodded your head and Milord gave you an approving smile.

“It’s only for a few days, right? I know none of you ever wants to hurt me. If you guys have difficulty with control during rut, I’m not going to push you away if you slip into it and risk us both getting hurt. It’s like you said - all consent is given up front. You guys probably don’t know, but humans risk conception whenever we’re intimate without protection. Hell, it’s still a risk even if you use it or double up on it, but trying to stay safe is why we have those things in the first place. We can’t smell that ideal time like you guys can. We don’t have noticeable cycles for each other so my species just keeps trying until we’re successful. So if we can’t use birth control, as long as you guys promise to let me know when my heat starts and stops, I promise to do what I can to make it easier on you and that way we can make sure we start a family when we’re ready for it.”

“Kind of a shame, though,” Mutt brought his arms up and rested his hands behind his skull. “Don’t get me wrong, I get why you’re saying we can’t fool around for those days. We’re all talking about kids for this meeting and if it wasn’t a thought before, it definitely is now. Still... taking care of a female in heat is a wild fucking ride. Hits all six of the senses.”

Axe grinned and nodded at Mutt. You kicked Axe’s leg under the table. It wasn’t technically bragging, but you didn’t want the others to pick up on what Axe did for you during your first heat. You had been lucky that Axe’s desire for a family didn’t cause anything to happen. He may not have been sure he wanted you to be the mother of his kids, back then, but the others didn’t need to think they could take a risk like that, too.

“IT’S SMART TO KEEP OUR DISTANCE FOR JUST A FEW DAYS,” Pap nodded eagerly, agreeing with you. “HONEY’S SCENT IS ALREADY PRETTY INVITING. I THINK WE’LL BE OKAY BEING A LITTLE AFFECTIONATE WITH HER, BUT WE SHOULD TRY NOT TO GET TOO HANDSY AND ONLY MAKE IT WORSE FOR OURSELVES.”

You smiled up at Pap. Another thought occurred to you, and it seemed important so you didn’t hesitate to voice it. “I know you guys might want to try to cover the scent with your marks during that time, so what are your thoughts on letting one linger? To hide the scent for a bit? I can’t shower multiple times a day to keep it off me or you’ll never know when it stops.”

“It would be far more sensible to simply allow yourself to remain saturated for the first day and force us to deal with it.” Milord said thoughtfully, his purple lights narrowing at his empty plate while he considered his words. “That is the time your scent has the highest influence over us. If you ward us off until we grow accustomed to it, then we will have far more control over ourselves during consecutive days. It is still inadvisable to allow anyone’s mark to remain as it would only stir the rest of your pack’s more possessive instincts.”

“Speaking of instincts, have you claimed Robin, yet, Milord?” Mutt asked, his raspy voice carrying an unusual amount of seriousness to it. His red lights were hard and focused on his brother. The rest of the table stared at Mutt in shock. “Don’t look at me like that, I’m not asking to let you brag. I need to know because she doesn’t follow traditional alpha code and she’s marked before a claim previously.”

“That is no business of yours, mongrel!” Milord snapped, his own sockets growing dark.

“Yeah, it is,” Mutt growled. “I told Robin, when she first worried about her heats, to go to you if she felt unsafe. I thought you would always stay rational around her, even if you liked her, because you’re demisexual. I’ve only seen you date a female once before and you and I both know that half the fights you had with your ex are because you don’t become physical without a strong bond! That means, if you really are emotionally bonded enough with Robin to want to claim her, you’re going to be just like the rest of us during her heat no matter how much self control you think you have. You might even be worse than us because you don’t have as much experience with heats in general as we do.”

Milord’s purple lights flickered back to life only to widen in surprise. He sat silently, at a loss for words, and simply stared across the table at Mutt.

You looked between Mutt and Milord, wondering. “Does, um,” your voice was small, you really hoped this question wouldn’t lead to another fight between them, “does a claim really change how my scent affects you all that much? During that time?”

“...yes.” Axe grinned at you. “...claims strengthen… emotional bonds. ...the stronger the bond… the sweeter your scent is.” Mutt nodded in agreement with this and a small unease settled in your gut. 

“You see my point, right?” Mutt let out a heavy sigh and looked up at the ceiling. “If Milord’s been unaffected so far just by being who he is, your next heat is going to hit him harder than the rest of us. We’ve been through one already when our bond wasn’t that strong, we know what to expect now, but we’ll still be tempted. So if you do feel like you need someone during your time, Robin, stick with Sans.”

“WHY SANS?” Pap leaned forward in his chair and rested his elbow on the table. “HE’S ALREADY BONDED WITH HONEY! HE WON’T BE ANY BETTER THAN US, EVEN IF HE HASN’T CLAIMED HER!”

“Because otherwise the only option left is Edge. He doesn’t like her, but I’m not trusting her to him for any reason.” Mutt huffed irritably. “Besides, Sans never loses his cool. Seriously, you’ve known him all your life, Pap. Has Sans ever lost control of himself with anything? He deals with all of our bullshit on a daily basis and just shrugs it off and keeps on smiling and cracking jokes. If anyone’s going to keep his wits during Robin’s heat, it’s him.”

“...and he… always knows what… to do.” Axe said pointedly. A small growl on discontent escaped Pap, but he didn’t say anything. “...no matter… what kind of problem there is. ...he’s not part of… the pack yet, but… he’s strong enough to… subdue us… if needed.”

You nodded slowly, agreeing with both of their points. Sans had way more experience with your heats thanks to the timelines. He would know what to do if you needed him. He might even take initiative and start pranking you with water balloons again if he thought you needed it.

“Your foresight is unexpected, Mutt,” Milord said coolly, studying his younger brother. “How long ago did you formulate this contingency plan? Before or during Zeta’s first heat?”

“...when we were talking about her worries before her first heat here.” Mutt raised a bony brow at Milord, his red lights flickering. “You admitting I have good ideas, too?”

“Hardly,” Milord’s tone stiffened with that one word. He glanced over your shoulder, at the clock on the stove, and cleared his non-existent throat to draw attention to himself. “We have strayed far enough from our original topic. The general consensus seems to be that Papyrus and Axe are in favor, Mutt remains undecided, and I decline the previously discussed proposition for our future. All of us agree to avoid claiming our alpha during her heat. If nothing more immediate needs to be addressed, it is time Papyrus and I initiate our travels before we find ourselves still above ground by midday.”

You nodded, accepting when the time had finally come to let the subject rest. “I really appreciate you all talking about this. I know things got a little tense at times, but it means a lot to me that we kept this a discussion. We all got a chance to voice our opinions and learned more about each other, too. Would it be okay to revisit this again in six months? Just to get any new thoughts up in the air?”

Everyone seemed to be okay with this idea and there was a murmur of agreement around the table. To your surprise, even Milord agreed, though you suspected he would continue to play devil’s advocate the next time this topic was brought up. It was interesting, you thought. He was very much against the idea of kids but… it almost seemed more out of concern for you and the hypothetical kid rather than himself.

“THAT WAS DEFINITELY INTERESTING.” Pap scrapped the last bit of his pancakes from his plate and into the void behind his jaws. His orange tongue darted out to catch a drip of melted cream and then he handed his plate over to Axe. “ARE ALL PACK MEETINGS LIKE THIS? JUST US SITTING AROUND AND LEARNING MORE ABOUT EACH OTHER?”

“...nope.” Axe grinned and nodded his skull towards Mutt and Milord. “...last time… Willow had to assert herself… when Mutt and… Milord fought. ...she did… a good job.”

Pap let out a loud, booming laugh and sent a large grin your way. “IT’S GOOD TO KNOW YOU’RE BEING MORE ASSERTIVE, HONEY. I TOLD YOU IT WOULD HELP KEEP YOUR BETAS UNDER CONTROL.”

A small, embarrassed heat rose to your cheeks as you, too, remembered the first disastrous pack meeting. You had needed Axe’s help in separating the others and had to practically force them to talk to each other. You had pointed out, during that fight, that they had so many unsaid things between them that they needed to discuss. They clearly had yet to do as you advised. A lot of that tension still remained, if their attitudes towards each other in today’s meeting was anything to go by. They had been civil but that didn’t keep them from trying to get on each other’s nerves.

Chairs squeaked across the tile as Pap and Milord rose to their feet. You turned around in your seat to watch them. Rather than head towards the archway for the front door, the two of them made for the open space of the kitchen.

“You guys will be home just after dinner time, right?” you asked, worry settling in your gut like a weight. Milord gave you a curt nod of confirmation and pulled off one of his leather gloves.

“DON’T WORRY ABOUT US HONEY,” Pap returned to you in one long stride and bent over your chair to give you a reassuring hug. “WE’LL LOOK AFTER EACH OTHER AND WE’LL BE BACK BEFORE YOU KNOW IT. OH! AND DON’T WORRY ABOUT SETTING OUT EXTRA CHAIRS TONIGHT. SINCE MUTT CAN’T STAY UPSTAIRS AND BUTCH PROBABLY WON’T LEAVE HIS ROOM WITH COMPANY HERE…”

“Alright. Be safe, you two. I love you.”

“LOVE YOU TOO, HONEY,” Pap kissed the top of your head and then retreated back to where Milord waited.

Milord’s gaze darted around the kitchen, at the rest of the pack, before he quietly spoke. “And I, you, Zeta.” He held his one glove in his hand and spoke to you while studying the seams. “Be mindful of what you say around our guests.”

You nodded, feeling a pang of disappointment that Milord didn’t make any sort of move to show you a bit of affection before they left. You knew the reason, he couldn’t have your scent all over him when he went to the Underground, but that didn’t make it any easier for you.

Once he was a distance away from you, Pap removed one of his mitts and orange plasma spilled forth. The kitchen quickly filled with the smell of brown sugar. He held his hand out to Milord, small droplets of plasma falling towards the tile from his bony fingers. Milord likewise raised his ungloved hand. Lavender plasma gathered around his joints and the smell of frost mixed with its sweeter counterpart. They clasped hands, their magic intertwined for a split second, and then you blinked and they were gone. You tilted your head, confused by the new smell that lingered. It was almost like… a mint julep?

“What was that?” you asked, turning back towards Mutt and Axe. Mutt was moodily stabbing at the last of his soggy pancakes while Axe quietly watched him. “You, um…?”

“They were pooling their magic,” Mutt mumbled his words. He sighed, gave up on the last few bites on his plate, and slid it over to Axe to be devoured. “That’s what that new smell is. They were linking their wells. They’re travelling pretty far if they had to do that, though.”

“Oh, yeah. I kind of remember you saying you could do that,” you furrowed your brow, trying to recall exactly what that conversation was. You didn’t have any gaps in your memory, but you had gotten pretty drunk that night and some parts of what was said weren’t so clear anymore. Axe slid plates he had finished with across the table to you, drawing you out of your recollection.

“I’m gonna take a smoke break before we start moving things.” Mutt’s raspy voice was quiet. He disappeared from the table in a plume of clove, leaving you alone with Axe.

“...is he… okay?” Axe asked you, handing you the last plate. “...he was… really tense all though… the meeting.”

You hummed thoughtfully and took the dishes to the sink. “I mean, I kind of expected a few negative reactions. Not everyone has thought about this in the same way we have, Axe, and some of your brothers will have things that stop them from wanting it.”

When Mutt didn’t return through the kitchen, you went down to the basement to find him. If he needed to talk more about this, it might be easier for him now that Milord had left. 

Axe quietly trailed after you like a shadow. Mutt’s room was empty and, not knowing where he could’ve shortcutted to, you pulled on your boots and decided to search for him. Starting with his favorite smoking spots.

He wasn’t on the porch in the warm spring sun, or anywhere on the drive that you could see amongst the shade. Axe, picking up on what you were doing, took your hand in his and brought you around back.

Mutt was leaning against the shed, his back to the house. A hazy cloud of purple smoke drifted up on the air, twisting and turning before getting lost in the branches of the trees above. His hands were shoved in the pockets of his black hoodie and you saw the way he chewed on the butt of his cigarette as you approached.

“What’s on your mind?” you asked gently. Axe stood by your side, a small furrow of concern upon his bony brow. Mutt shrugged at your question. He took a long, slow drag off his cigarette that made the ember on the end of the stick glow brightly. 

“Just a lot to think about,” Mutt mumbled, his raspy voice nearly lost in the cloud of sweet, purple smoke he breathed out. “I’ll talk about it when I’m ready, Robin. Let me figure out what I’m thinking, first.”

Silence fell between the three of you and you looked up into the trees above, watching a pair of finches twitter and wrestle in the air with each other. Axe, with the grace of a cat, swung himself up onto the tin roof of the shed to take a seat next to Mutt’s skull. You absentmindedly picked at the red, stitched poppies on the hem of your dress. The quiet wasn’t uncomfortable, but you wanted to say something to Mutt to reassure him. Though what words to use, you had no idea. He could be thinking about any number of things at the moment.

“Didn’t you say once that you got your heat every month?” Mutt asked quietly, breaking the silence for you. He watched you out of the corner of his socket. “If I remember right, your last one was almost two months ago. Is that normal for humans or do you have more control over it than you let on?”

The cogs in your brain slipped a little as you thought back on your time living here. Your eyes slowly widened as you realized that Mutt was right. You hadn’t noticed with how chaotic your life had been as of late, but you had missed a few of your cycles.

“N-no, it’s not normal,” you stammered, feeling an immediate spike of anxiety that drew both Mutt and Axe’s stares towards you. “I’m not… you could tell if I was… p-pregnant, right?”

“...yes.” Axe tilted his skull at you, his red eye light focused on your chest’s soul spot. “...we would… smell it at the… very least.”

“And you’re not,” Mutt said, answering your unspoken question. “So if it’s not normal, why would you miss it?”

“Well, usually for humans it would mean I’m expecting,” you muttered, pink in the face. “But it’s happened before and not for that reason. I’m not exactly like other women. After what I went though, the doctors told me that I could expect to miss my cycle now and then because of all the physical trauma my body went through after the fire. They said large amounts of stress alone could cause it to happen to anyone, but I’m a bit more prone to that because of everything that happened. I’ve missed it before because I get too anxious over finals, or if I… if someone gave me too hard of a time because of… you know, my scars… and then I ended up getting depressed...”

“Yeah, you’ve been wound pretty tight lately,” Mutt nodded and picked at his gold fang. You wondered if, like you, he was remembering the migraine you had recently. “Is it bad for you? To miss them?”

“Not one or two,” you shrugged, ashamed that you hadn’t noticed this before. “If I keep missing it, though, I’ll have to go into the doctor for an exam.”

“...what if we… made it happen?” Axe asked. “...Pap could… let you breath his magic…like before and... you’ll go into heat.”

“I wasn’t in heat, then!” you said quickly, your pink color turning into a bright shade of red. “That magic didn’t make me all… I just… I remembered things! Good things, that I had spent a long time locking up in myself because I thought I couldn’t have it again. Before that I spent every moment since I got out of the hospital suppressing my desire because I thought no one would ever want me again because of my scars!”

“...but... we want you.” Axe grinned down at you from the roof. “...so what… do you think would happen… if you breathed it in… again?”

“I don’t know. I’m not asking Pap to do that to me again, he felt terrible about what happened the first time, so drop it,” you huffed, crossing your arms over your chest, and resolutely turned to stare off into the trees. So much more of the woods, you noticed, was green. Leaves were unfolding among the high branches and grass was more prominent than mud on the ground. Winter was finally gone.

“Still, it kind of makes you wonder,” Mutt drew you into him until you were leaning against his tall frame. “I hate to admit it, but tiny was right. We don’t know that much about you and we have no idea how magic affects you. I’m kind of pissed at myself for not thinking about any of those things he said. About what could happen.”

“Don’t be,” you said, looking up Mutt’s stoic expression. Axe’s grin had fallen a bit from his brother keeping you so close, but he sat quietly and let Mutt run his fingers through your hair without complaint. “It’s not a subject you’ve really thought about, right? You can’t be mad at yourself for not thinking about it.”

“But  _ he _ has, obviously,” Mutt muttered bitterly. “I dunno where he gets off. Talking about not wanting kids but still thinking about it that much… he hated raising me. At least he had the decency to admit he wouldn’t be there...”

Mutt withdrew his hand from your hair in favor of pulling out his lighter. The previous cigarette was gone, he must’ve already eaten it, and a new, unlit black stick sat nestled amongst his sharp teeth. He flicked the lighter once just before Axe reached out and pulled Mutt’s skull against him.

“Dude-!” Mutt dropped the lighter in surprise and it bounced off the top of your head. You rubbed at the spot and turned to see that Axe had wrapped himself around Mutt’s shoulders. “What the fuck-?”

“...you looked like… you needed a hug.” Axe grinned and nuzzled the side of his skull against Mutt’s. Mutt had gone completely stiff, unsure of what to do. Slowly, silently, Mutt brought his arms up and returned Axe’s affection. You smiled and looked towards the ground to search for the lighter among the new grass. It wasn’t exactly a secret that Mutt was a very physically expressive person, but if he was acting this awkward with a simple hug, then you wondered if he hadn’t been craving a different kind of affection for a very long time. The kind that built him up, made him feel wanted. It must’ve been so hard for someone as feeling as Mutt to have been raised by someone as emotionally distant as Milord. Talking about kids must have stirred some of those old feelings about his own childhood up.

You tapped Mutt’s shoulder and offered up the lighter you had found.

“Thanks,” Mutt nodded, to both you and Axe. He took the lighter from you and withdrew from Axe to spark his black cigarette. “Last one, I promise,” he said, his red eye lights watching you through the plume of purple smoke. “Then we can start moving things so you can get to school.”

Axe turned to you, silently questioning what Mutt meant with a flicker of his single, red eye light. You sheepishly admitted to him that you would be staying with Mutt while there were visitors in the house.

“...can I stay, too?” Axe asked, grinning mischievously under the glare Mutt shot him. “...what? ...I didn’t get… to be with her that night… after our date. ...she had… things to do. ...I miss her, too… you know.”

Mutt’s smoke break ended up being a lot longer than any of you had anticipated. Axe’s question led him to follow up with you about Edge right in front of Mutt. Mutt, who didn’t know anything about Butch’s lessons, eagerly asked all kinds of questions about what you were trying to do, why Edge, and what Butch thought about all this. Axe answered most of Mutt’s inquiries, but you eventually had to explain to the both of them that you didn’t think Edge was ready to teach Butch. You just needed more time to work with him. Axe nodded, understanding your insistence on pushing the first lesson off for a little longer. Mutt was completely taken aback that you were trying to, as he put it, ‘reign Edge in.’

“Be careful, Robin,” Mutt shook his skull. You and him were the only ones left by the shed now. Once he had told Axe it was okay to come downstairs, (“Just knock this time, bro.”) Axe jumped down from the roof of the shed, given you a hug and an affectionate nuzzle goodbye, and disappeared off in the woods. “I remember hearing that shouting match you two had in the kitchen. Edge will seriously deck you if you push him too far. You know damn well that if he does we’re all going to be after his dust. Just look at how Axe got earlier! From hearing about your arm! He’ll straight up murder Edge if he ever hits you.”

“It’s not like I purposely try to piss Edge off,” you sighed, letting Mutt take your hand and lead you back towards the house. “He’s gotten a little better, but I know he knows just what to say to get under my skin. At least he’s not as hostile as he used to be. Not by much, but it’s noticeable.”

Mutt hummed in thought, but didn’t pursue the subject any further. He followed behind you up the wide, oak stairs, taking the opportunity to pat your backside the whole way up. Your face burned with embarrassment and he let out a raspy laugh at your expression. At least his mood was improving.

You reached your arms out at the top step, bracing yourself against the wall and banister, in an attempt to cut Mutt off. You didn’t know what your end goal was, all you really wanted to do was tease him back. Mutt grinned and picked you up, throwing you over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes, and held you in place with a firm grip on your ass.

“Now, what to do,” he chuckled, grinning while you squirmed. He turned around on the landing as if he was examining his options. By doing that, however, he noticed that he wasn’t the only one in the hall. “Oh, hey vanilla,” Mutt gave Sans a nod. He adjusted you on his shoulder (you crossed your arms and were pouting) and asked, “When did you start getting up so early?”

Since you were facing the other direction, you could only hear Sans’ low tone when he replied. “eh, I’ve been known to rise to the occasion.”

A giggle escaped you. “Hey, Sans,” you tried to call over Mutt’s shoulder, “I made breakfast so you can start your day sunny side up!”

“eggcellent.” Sans snickered and his skull poked around Mutt so he could see your face, too. You matched the grin he had on his skull. “do you guys know if Paps is down there? I wanted to ask him if we can pick up Grillby’s for dinner when we head to the Underground. I figured you should be able to try it at least once, Thyme.”

You and Mutt exchanged a confused look. Somewhat reluctantly, Mutt set you back on your own feet. “To get Undyne and Aquamarine?” Mutt asked, looking somewhat awkward when Sans nodded. “Bro, Pap left already with Milord. Something about getting through customs faster if he’s ‘with the Captain’ and all that.” Mutt made air quotes, emphasizing his sarcasm. Both you and him noticed that Sans’ smile faltered for a second.

“oh. he’s back already? I thought…” Sans’ hand drifted to the plastic bracelet on his wrist. He twisted the braided material before offering you both a lazy smile. “Pap must’ve thought I forgot. whatever, as long as he gets there and back okay. I’ve got bedder things to do.”

“Sans,” you hurried forward and grabbed the sleeve of his blue hoodie, stopping him. You knew that Pap didn’t think Sans forgot. He had asked Milord to come with him instead. Probably, you realized, during Milord’s healing. “Are you and Pap doing okay? I’ve noticed some things between you two…”

Sans’ white eye lights darted between you and Mutt. “he’s just a little pissed that I never told him I was bi,” Sans shrugged, like it was no big deal. “I told him I was sorry I never told him, but it’s not like that fact’s a good conversation starter. hard to get straight to the point.”

Mutt snorted at the pun, but you furrowed your brow with worry. “Are you sure he accepted that? He just wants you to talk to him.”

“no need to play both sides, Thyme,” Sans grinned appreciatively as Mutt covered his mouth, trying to stifle his snickers. “we already worked things out. can’t exactly blame him for leaving without me if I overslept.”

“Whipped cream is in the fridge if you want it on your pancakes,” Mutt said, cutting you off when you opened your mouth again. “If you’re going downstairs, can you toss Robin’s laundry into my room?”

“can do,” Sans nodded, then vanished. The smell of damp wood tickled your nose as you rounded on Mutt.

“Why did you cut me off like that?” you asked, a hint of frustration in your voice. “If they’re having problems-”

“Then they’ll work them out,” Mutt calmly ushered you towards your room. “I know you want to help, pretty bird, but Pap and vanilla have small tifs like that now and then. Pap gets worked up, Sans apologizes, then they go back to normal. Trust me, I’ve lived with them longer than you have.”

“But-” you tried to turn on the narrow steps, you wanted to go make sure Sans was okay, but Mutt patted your backside and herded you up the stairs towards the attic.

“No buts, unless it’s yours we’re talking about,” he grinned. “Let it go, Robin. You don’t need to get stressed out and miss another heat by trying to fix things that are fixing themselves.”

You muttered under your breath, but accepted what Mutt was telling you. Pap had gotten upset, but that didn’t mean he had to be okay again right away. If Sans really had talked things out with him then they just needed time. Directing your frustration elsewhere, you grumbled, “If you say it like that it sounds like you  _ want _ me in heat again.”

“If it keeps you from missing another one and getting sick,” Mutt sidled up behind you, his hands slipping around your waist while he purred seductively in your ear, “by all means, start today. At least I’ll get to enjoy all of it while you stay with me.”

“I think that’s literally  _ the worst _ thing that could happen,” you pointed out. That, and if what Mutt had pointed out was true, Milord would have a hard time during your next heat. It was going to be difficult enough keeping your relationship with him from the brothers without your mark, let alone guests. “We already agreed that we’re not fooling around during my heat and you’ll just be tormenting yourself.”

“I thought we already established I like doing that?” Mutt asked, tilting your chin up. He leaned over you and gently placed an upside-down kiss on your lips. “And the worst thing that could happen, pretty bird, is something happening to you that I don’t know how to fix.”

His underlying worry softened you. He might be acting flirty, but if he was saying things like that then some of the things that were said during the meeting must have stuck with him. You reached up, cupped his cheekbones, and stole another upside-down kiss. “Alright, fair,” you breathed against him, the taste of clove making your tongue all tingly. “Let’s start moving everything I’ll need before I have to go.”

“I can’t wait until you’re done with school,” Mutt sighed. He watched you walk to your bookshelf and squat down in front of it, pondering what you might need in the next three days. 

All of your notes, without a doubt, since you wanted to work on your papers and the experiment. Any books that could help you with that should be taken, along with those that would help you with planning the garden. 

“Why not just take all of them?” Mutt asked. He had taken a seat next to you and you had thought aloud to him while you browsed through your selection. “It’ll keep them from getting ruined if Undyne or Aquamarine get curious.”

“Why would they get ruined?” you asked, your brow raised.

“They’re pisceans,” Mutt shrugged, as if that explained everything. At your confused look, he reiterated, “The subspecies, piscean, that’s a kind of… fish people. They’re usually aquatic but they can walk on land just fine. When they do come out of the water, they’re covered in this slimy film that keeps their skin from drying out. If they touch your books without wearing gloves you might as well just throw the whole thing in the river.”

You paled a bit at that thought. The majority of your books, the textbooks, were all pretty expensive despite being used. “Okay, so we’ll bring them all,” you sighed, looking at the large collection you had accumulated. “The garlic plants all need to get moved outside, too, and…”

The sentence trailed off as your gaze drifted towards the echo flower Pap had given you. It was semi-hidden from sight by your dresser, but Mutt’s gaze followed yours and he immediately found it.

“No way! How did you get one of these?” Mutt scrambled across the wood floor on his knees to the ceramic pot. His red eye lights widened as he examined the little flower. More specifically, the red coloration it had at its roots along with it’s dim, blue glow. “What the hell did you do to it, Robin? I’ve never seen one with red in it before.”

“It’s a long story,” you shrugged, “but the short version is I broke some of its roots off and I think it… absorbed Axe’s magic. Or Axe’s magic healed it and it turned red. I’m not too sure. I’m more so surprised the colors haven’t mixed yet to turn it purple.”

“That’s so cool,” Mutt mumbled, carefully lifting the water-filled pot to his socket level.

“You’re not… going to get me in trouble for it, are you?” you asked quietly. You were asking more so for Pap’s sake, but if you were in trouble the last thing you wanted was his name attached to it, too.

“I don’t care if you have one.” Mutt gently set the pot on the floor and the water slooshed around, jostling the flower.

_ “-ne.” _ It echoed stiffly. You narrowed your eyes at the flower. It had been able to say whole words before. Weren’t they supposed to be able to say more as they grew, not less? Perhaps it had never fully recovered from the dead garlic sapping magic from it.

“Was it Pap?” Mutt asked, grinning in a conspiring way. You stared at him in shock. “Come on, Robin. He thinks like a classic romantic and I’d bet my motherboard he smuggled that up for you for your date.” You nodded shyly. “Knew it. Don’t worry, I won’t tell tiny. Though, if you get it to turn completely red instead of blue, it probably won’t even be classified as an ‘echo flower’ anymore.”

“Thanks, Mutt,” you said quietly. At least that was one less thing to worry about.

“Alright,” Mutt leaned back and looked around the room. “How did you want to move your experiment? I figured I could use a shortcut to move everything else. I got your dresser up here like that, but I don’t know how your system is for the plants. I don’t want to mess anything up.”

“We should probably do that last and take them the normal way.” you nodded in appreciation. Reaching for your backpack, you pulled your experiment notes out and flipped to the page marking each cup with a label. “I don’t know how to factor in the way you guys take shortcuts. But as long as each cup ends up outside in some place with similar lighting,” you said, pointing out the list to Mutt, “then that’ll probably affect my data the least with the move. If things get mixed up in a transfer that’ll throw everything off even more. I’m just glad it’s finally warm enough to get them outside without worrying about frost.”

Mutt nodded and his eye lights drifted over your notes. “We’ll need to move books off your shelf. I can’t shortcut things I can’t carry and that shelf looks heavy enough as it is… hey, Robin?” he looked up. “Did you really get all this information from a few cloves of garlic?”

Curious by what he meant, you leaned over his shoulder to see what page he had turned to. It was the one with notes on the Underground. The small descriptions Red, Butch, and Axe had given you of Districts 3 and 4. “No, that came from your brothers. I was asking about plants native to where you live because I had this theory on adaptation that I wanted to explore. I haven’t gotten a chance to ask anyone for details about Districts 1 and 2, yet.”

_ “-using magic to overcome the lack of sunlight and to substitute nutrients normally made through photosynthesis…” _ Mutt read aloud, his red lights wide with amazement. “I have no idea what that means exactly, since I don’t know what photosynthesis is, but you sound like you’re on to something.”

“Yeah, I had this idea after Butch broke the pot and the echo flower absorbed Axe’s magic,” you said quickly, filled with excitement to have someone to hear your theory now that you had thought it out, “that the plant life in the Underground might be a lot like you guys. You don’t need nutrients like I do, like calcium and vitamin c, because you live exclusively on magic. This book I bought, on cave adaptations, goes into detail about certain fungi and mosses that are still able to create sugars to live on without the sun. You already told me your food has magic, I already know I’d starve eating it because there aren’t any nutrients, so what if the plants in the Underground adapted to use magic to sustain themselves, too? It would explain why all my plants had a growth spurt after being exposed to Butch’s old magic when his color changed! All plants have a way to store sugars in their cells, so your plants  _ must _ do the same with magic. But  _ how _ they get it is a mystery to me. Aside from District 3, which is filled with fire, my understanding is that the plants still grow no matter the climate in the Underground. So if they’re that hardy, why do they only grow in certain spots? Is there magic in the soil and they absorb it from their surroundings? Or do the plants in the Underground actually make magic themselves and just need specific things to synthesize it? The only thing I’ve found out for sure, through my experiment, is that plants with magic in them need a ton of water. I refill those cups almost every day, and that flower pot, too! District 2, Waterfall, there’s got to be a lot of water in a place with a name like that. If I look at the theory that these plants need a lot of water to make their own magic, then it would make sense for them to do better in that District. I think if I can figure out what exactly they need to really thrive I might be able to understand why the Underground can’t sustain agriculture. Then I can develop more theories on how the Underground can farm existing plants while still trying to cross breed with surface varieties.”

Mutt stared at you, his red lights flickering. His jaw hung slightly open and he was clearly at a loss for words.

“Um, I’m actually planning on asking Undyne a little about it,” you mumbled, heat rising to your cheeks and turning them pink as Mutt continued to stare. “Pap told me she has an herb garden. If she’s able to be successful with that, her tips could really help push my notes in a good direction. Understanding what works and what doesn’t might be able to explain some questions I still have about my plants.”

“Do you even know,” he said slowly, his lights shining with respect, “how long our royal scientist has tried to find the answers you have? Hundreds of years, Robin…”

“Well, I can’t take all the credit,” you looked down, embarrassed that he’d stare so openly, “I didn’t discover cave adaptations on my own or find out that monster food has magic without help. Honestly, I owe most of it to things you guys have told me. I just… took all of that and applied it to things I found through more research.”

“These notes,” Mutt finally looked down as he flipped through your notebook, “the ones on the Underground… you can ask me about anything if you think it’ll help. And I really mean anything you want to know, not just ‘cohabitation’ stuff. I know I’m not supposed to give a lot of information to you freely but if it helps this,” he raised the notebook up, “succeed then I really don’t give a damn about the law anymore.”

“I don’t want you in more trouble,” you mumbled, touched that he would risk so much to help you. “You’ve already been punished by the Queens once. I don’t want to see you with more gold teeth or to have something worse happen.”

A mischievous grin tugged at the corners of his sharp teeth. “I’ve told you a lot of things I shouldn’t have, pretty bird, but you’ve kept it all a secret so far. If it helps you out, consider me your open book.”

~~~

“Uggh, I can’t  _ wait _ for tomorrow to end!”

You sipped your caramel macchiato and quirked an eyebrow at Abby. The two of you sat outside the campus cafe on this beautiful day in late March, enjoying the teasing gusts of wind that beckoned you to stay outside.

“If I get a passing grade, it’ll be a miracle,” Abby huffed. She chewed on the bendy straw of her strawberry lemonade, her glittery lashes fluttering as she watched a guy pass on his longboard. He eyed her back. Rather, he eyed her tight, designer jeans and the velvet, pastel pink crop top above her flat stomach. “How do you think you’re doing, sweetie? I know you’ll pass monster studies but what about the rest? Ah, don’t even answer that. A nerd like you is probably getting top scores.”

You flushed pink and shifted uncomfortably in your leather jacket. While you were used to being warm, (that was something you learned to deal with since you covered so much of your body,) the jacket was a bit much for a day like today. Taking it off, however, was out of the question. All you had left was your poppy dress while Mutt took care of the rest of your laundry.

“Actually,” you said slowly, “I’m not too confident about my calculus exam this morning. My psych classes are probably fine, but I won’t know for sure until they email us our test results.”

“No way! The smarty pants has a subject she’s bad at?” Abby pursed her glossy lips while she shook her head in disbelief. “You’re just saying that to make me feel better.”

“Really, I’m terrible at math,” you chuckled. It was nice to have a break and sit with your friend like this. You missed her. “Hey, Abby, what are you doing for spring break? We’ll have free time to actually see each other if we’re not cramming for finals.”

“Ooooh! That reminds me!” Abby bounced in her chair, her blonde ponytail swaying, and she took your hand in her perfectly manicured one. “I wanted to ask you! Spring break. Jamaica. You and me and my old friend from boarding school. Don’t tell me you can’t afford the plane ticket, sweetie. Not with a brother like yours.”

You blinked. Brother? You didn’t have a brother- oh! “He, um, lives in Switzerland,” you mumbled lamely, trying to find some kind of excuse. “He doesn’t actually give me money, Abby. I get that from my job.”

“He bought you a car. Just ask him. What’s a couple thousand dollars to a guy that loaded?” Abby shrugged and waved the worry away. “Besides, I’ve been  _ dying _ to get you to the mall to try on swimsuits. I just  _ know _ you’d look a-freaking-dorable in a ruffled bikini.”

“Abby, no! I can’t just leave!” You took your hand back and set it in your lap. Your fingers twisted the dark green fabric and you stared down at the cement walk. “I appreciate you wanting to include me, I really do, but I’m not leaving the guys. I want to spend time with them, too. Not to mention my job is starting to catch up with me now that things are growing…”

“You live with them, sweetie,” Abby huffed irritably. “What’s a week away? Give yourself some monster-free time to relax and recoup.”

“I’m sorry, I don’t want to go,” you shook your head, your tone firm. “It would be nice for us to spend time together, but I don’t want to leave home. I can’t afford the ticket, either, and I’m not going to ask for that kind of money. And I… I can’t wear swimsuits!” you hissed that last sentence, like you had said something indecent.

“Sweetie, I know you’re modest,” Abby said with an air of impatience, “but no one’s going to care in Jamaica. The whole reason Chloe and I are going is because it’s not going to be as crowded as Long Beach. Daddy’s letting me rent a private villa for us. No ones going to see your… stretch marks or tummy fluff or whatever you’ve got that makes you so self conscious. Come drink cosmos on the beach with us!”

“I’m sorry, Abby, but I’m staying on Mt Ebott.”

Abby clicked her tongue against her teeth. “I bet you’d go if there were monsters in Jamaica,” she said quietly, bitterly, and glared down at her lemonade.

“No, I wouldn’t,” you growled. A tense silence hung between you. Abby checked her phone, scrolling through social media, while you swirled your macchiato in your hand. A sigh left you and you let some of your building frustration leave on your breath. “I know this trip means a lot to you,” you said, trying to create peace again, “and I want to spend time with you, too. Just don’t ask me to do things that expose my body like that. If you want to, we could still go to the mall tonight. You can help me pick out some things I need to get for the house and I can help you pick out your swimsuit. I’ve got to be back in time to make dinner, Pap is out getting his friends so he can’t cook, but we could still hang out a bit before you leave… Whenever that is.”

“Saturday morning,” Abby said stiffly. “Nice to know you’re having parties without me. At least I invite you to some of mine.”

“It’s… not exactly a party, Abby,” you tried to keep your tone even, patient, despite Abby’s bristling body language. It couldn’t hurt to say if you didn’t name names, right? “His friends… their sister just died. It’s not exactly something to party about.”

“Oh.” Abby sat, contemplating her drink. “Well, now I feel bad. I get to go dancing at tiki bars and you’re stuck with some kind of… monster funeral.”

“I honestly don’t know if monsters have funerals like ours,” you admitted, relieved that the subject diffused the earlier tension. “Though I’m sure Sans would’ve told me if I had to do anything for their customs.”

“What, they don’t wear black and have an open casket like the rest of us?” Abby asked, raising her perfectly sculpted eyebrow at you. You shook your head. If monsters didn’t leave bodies behind, it wasn’t possible to have that kind of ceremony. Maybe they scattered dust like some people did with ashes, but you didn’t know for sure. “Huh. Weird.”

“If you want,” you offered, trying to tempt her, “you could help me pick out something to wear? I could use some more clothes. And I know some of the guys could use them, too.”

“....oh, all right.” Abby finally broke out in a grin. “You know I can’t resist dressing you or anyone else. But don’t you dare say thrift store or I’m kidnapping you and bringing you to Jamaica anyway.”

~~~

The shelby’s engine purred as you slowly drove it up the long road towards Lane 66. You tapped your hands against the steering wheel, drumming with the catchy song playing on the radio. A breeze smelling of sun-warmed earth and leaves drifted in through the open window and tickled your cheeks.

_ “Each and every day _

_ Hiding from the sunshine _

_ Wandering in the shade _

_ Not too old, not too young” _

You fiddled with the volume dial, turning up the noise, just as you turned the car’s wheels towards the long, winding drive. You had to hand it to Papyrus. He had taken the whole engine apart and the car still ran as smooth as silk.

_ “Every night again _

_ Dancing in the moonlight _

_ Somewhere far away _

_ I can hear your call” _

The seat vibrated gently beneath you as you sat, idle, to listen to the upbeat tune. You popped the trunk and pulled out your phone to listen to the song. It was one you wanted to try and download later for your library.

_ “Awaiting your mistake _

_ Not too close, not too far” _

You fiddled with your phone’s screen, saving the song. Since the day was so nice, you flicked your finger to pull up the internet browser you had left open. A bunch of recipes took up your tabs. With a bit of thought, you had decided that comfort food would be good for dinner. You didn’t know what else to do to show your support (that wasn’t too personal) for Undyne and Aquamarine during their mourning period. 

_ “I won’t trust myself _

_ Once I hear your call _

_ I’m out of my head _

_ Of my heart and my mind _

_ ‘Cause you can run but you can’t hide _

_ I’m gonna-” _

The song died with the turn of a key. You rolled up the windows, a warm feeling rising in your chest as you hummed the song to yourself, and popped the trunk. Red wouldn’t like the song if you showed it to him. He hated electronica. It was still a nice discovery and you wondered which of the brothers might like it if you shared.

A snapping branch caught your attention as you gathered bags from the mall up in your arms. You turned your head at the noise, expecting to see one of the brothers trying to sneak up on you.

“Axe? Is that you?” you asked the woods. Turning, you examined the spaces between the far trees to try and glimpse the mischievous skeleton. Silence lingered, broken only by the twittering of birds and the occasional chattering of an unseen squirrel. Feeling like Axe wouldn’t purposely spook you this much, you called out quietly, “...Flowey?”

That weird feeling, the one that made the hairs on the back of your neck stand up, filled you. Like someone was watching you. Twisting the handles of the plastic bags around your wrists, you shut the trunk and quickly scurried inside the large, brick house.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Follow me on insta if you like! I post updates there. :3
> 
> https://www.instagram.com/oolongteacup426/?hl=en
> 
> Our visitors will arrive next chapter, lovelies. Thank you for your patience. <3
> 
> Edit: Oh, yes, I forgot to add that the song featured in the chapter is 'The Wolf' by Siames
> 
> Also, I got a tumblr! Come find me (:   
> https://oolongteacup426.tumblr.com/


	40. Ch 37 - Guests

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> They have arrived :3

Ch 37 - Guests

Upbeat battle music floated into the entryway from the living room. Grinning, you slipped the many bags from your wrists onto the floor and gratefully shrugged off your leather jacket to hang on the hook by the door. You dug through the bags for some of your recent purchases for the living room before investigating the sounds of artificial fighting.

Mutt and Butch were sitting on the floor together playing a round of Smash. Sans sat on the couch behind them to watch the match. His legs were thrown over the back of the couch while his skull hung upside-down off the cushions. Mutt’s bony brow was furrowed with concentration and he sat hunched over his controller. Butch had one knee up to his chest, and the tip of his golden tongue was poking out while he focused on evading Mutt’s avatar. Judging by the long-dead NPCs, and the fact that both brothers still had all their lives, they had gotten quite good at the game.

“No floating! That’s cheating!” Mutt shoved Butch to the floor with a well-placed foot. Butch let out a small growl. The lapse in concentration had caused his character to fall back onto the platform and Mutt wasted no time in taking advantage of that. Butch’s thumbs blurred over his controller and his character, Kirby, sucked up Link as he attacked before spitting him back out. Kirby’s new sword hit Link with a satisfying smack and sent him flying off screen. Butch rolled onto his back. A smug grin sat on his skull while Mutt glared down at him and Sans chuckled behind them.

“Having fun?” you asked, grinning, while you made up the couch with the new dark green, basil colored throw pillows you had gotten. You wiggled one of Sans’ pink slippered feet and he moved his legs for you, grinning quietly as he snatched up one of the new pillows for his skull.

“hi, Lily…! want to… play with us?” Butch grinned brightly at you while Mutt grumbled darkly under his breath. You caught the slight movement of his red eye lights as he considered playing dirty, but to your relief he paused the game to greet you, too.

“What’s all that?” Mutt asked, quirking a bony brow at you while you folded a new, fluffy blanket colored green with a fern pattern over the back of the couch were Sans’ feet had just been. 

“Just a few new things for the house,” you shrugged, like it was no big deal. “I’ve been thinking about getting them for a while to bring a bit of color to the living room. There’s a lot of tan in this house, you know?”

Butch nodded approvingly while Mutt and Sans just looked a little confused.

“why’d you pick… green?” Butch asked, watching you trot back to the entryway only to return with more throw pillows for the recliners. “burgundy would… go well with tan, too. or... burnt umber. any muted warm color… really. unless… you want a… natural color scheme?”

A delighted laugh escaped you. “That’s what Abby said!” You giggled a bit, straightening the last of the pillows on a recliner, and gave Butch a bright smile. You should’ve known he’d have an eye for colors, being the artist that he is. His opinion would be a big help when you tried to brainstorm more decorating ideas. “I thought green would bring a bit more life to the room than a bunch of browns. I considered other colors, but this one just kind of speaks to me.”

“it’s a good color,” Sans chuckled. “reminds me of you.”

“we could do… an earthy red for… an accent wall, eventually.” Butch offered, looking around the room with appraising white lights. “that would… go nice with the green.”

“What the hell is an ‘accent wall?’” Mutt looked between you, Butch, and Sans, a bewildered look on his skull. Sans shrugged, indicating he had no idea, while you and Butch giggled at his question.

“Don’t worry, I’ll explain it to you if you want to help with redecorating.” You motioned with your hand, beckoning the three boys to follow you back into the entryway. “Can you boys come with me? I don’t want to interrupt your gaming match too much, so it’ll just be a moment.”

You practically skipped back to the entryway, bursting with excitement to share what you had bought. It felt good to give gifts. Not just for the house, but for brothers individually. Things they could share, too.

“do another impromptu gyftmas, Thyme?” Sans chuckled, looking down at the multitude of bags you started to dig through. Butch squatted next to you, his white lights shining curiously as you started to unearth a bunch of plastic cases from the bags. “at least you got over that hangup with the card.”

“I like doing things for you guys,” you huffed, pink in the face while you handed Butch case after case of movies you had gotten at a nice discount. Just because you were a bit more okay with using the card didn’t mean you weren’t going to keep hunting for deals. “And, if I may be so bold, some of you guys needed a few things. I can’t just buy a few of you something and not get the others something, too.”

“What are all these?” Mut asked, taking a case off the top of the stack you were building in Butch’s arms.

“Well, the movies are just a bunch of random things I’m hoping some of you will like,” you explained, pointing at the stack, “or maybe things Undyne and Aquamarine will like, too. They’re pisceans, right? I thought they might be interested in the ocean documentary… The video games, Portal, Left for Dead 2, and Diablo 3, all have multiplayer if you guys want to play together.”

It was, you quietly noted to yourself, getting harder and harder to find video games that didn’t have a premise of humans versus monsters. Demons, robots, and zombies, on the other hand...

Butch sat back to dig through the movies and games in his lap. He picked each one up, to read the summaries on the back, before shuffling through the stack for a new one. His white lights shined with excitement when he saw that you had gotten new Ghibli movies - Howl’s Moving Castle and Princess Mononoke.

You brought out a rolled up welcome mat, broke the plastic binding, and tossed it by the door. It didn’t take a lot of foresight to know that, with your job as groundskeeper, there would be a lot of mud coming into this house. Milord would have a fit if you dirtied the floors. “Here, Mutt, these are for you,” you said, grabbing a large black bag. You made sure there was a case inside along with two black boxes before handing the lot over to him. At his confused look, you explained. “I found Halo for your computer. I thought you might like a new game to play for the next few days. It has multiplayer options, too, so I thought I could try playing with you.”

“....did you seriously get me new tech?” Mutt asked, the smaller of the two boxes open in his hand. He held up a sleek new mouse to examine.

“They were on sale,” you admitted sheepishly. “The mouse and the keyboard both light up, but they’re older models. The guy at the store said they’re still great for gamers so I hope you like them.”

“I… well, thanks, Robin,” Mutt said sheepishly, a grin plastered on his skull beneath his slight, burnt orange flush. You smiled at him and dove back into the bags to move some things around.

“Sans,” you nodded to the eldest brother, offering him a large book and a black orb with little nubs sticking out all over it. You caught the cord of the latter gift still tangled in the bags and gently coaxed it free.

“‘Stories and Mythology of the Constellations,’” he read off the book’s cover. “thanks, Thyme,” he nodded at you, then held up the nubbly black orb. “but, eh, what’s this?”

“It’s a star projector.” You grabbed the dangling plug and showed it to him. “It’s not the brightest lamp, and it’s not an exact replica of the sky, but if you set it up in the middle of your room it’ll cast the major constellations onto the walls so you can still stargaze when it’s cloudy or storming outside.”

Sans nodded his thanks and reexamined the projector with renewed interest, his white lights narrowed as he turned the small orb every which way.

“These are for you,” you said, offering Butch the bag you had put together for him. He set the stack of cases in his lap aside in favor of eagerly examining his gifts. “I know you like drawing, but I’ve only ever seen you use pencils,” you said, returning to your shopping for the other part of his gift, “so I thought maybe you’d like to try a new medium. I got you watercolors and all the stuff you’ll need for them. They’re not the highest quality materials, but if you like using it I can go back and get better ones.”

“thanks... Lily,” Butch gave you a beaming look, his white lights shining with appreciation at the new sketch pad, brushes, and colors. Those lights widened immediately in surprise when you also handed over a maroon hoodie.

“I got you this, too. I really hope it fits you,” you said shyly, watching Butch unfold the pullover. “You’re not too much taller than me, so I just went up a size for the length-”

“I-I can’t take this…!” Butch stammered and shoved the hoodie back into your arms. You sat there, staring in astonishment at such a sudden outburst like that. “th-that’s cotton…!”

“What’s wrong with cotton?” you asked, confused. “Do you have some kind of allergy?”

“Cotton’s incredibly expensive, pretty bird. It’s hard to grow and doesn’t last long so clothes made of it are pricey.” Mutt gave Butch a sympathetic look. 

“next time, get silk,” Sans added, “most of us only buy one set of clothes and we wear it until it falls apart. silk’s pretty sturdy, though. it’ll last forever if you don’t get in a lot of fights or know how to dodge.” 

Your eyes widened in understanding. You knew from your Monster Studies class that cotton was one of the biggest imports of the Underground. If the Underground couldn’t sustain agriculture, then it made sense that making clothes would be very costly. It explained why you nearly always saw the guys wearing the same outfit. Milord and Mutt had a pretty big wardrobe, but Milord was also Captain. That had to be a really high paying job if he could afford a personal tailor, of all things.

“I can afford all this on my budget,” you said gently, appreciating that someone in the family finally seemed to be a bit more aware about money. You also had a newfound appreciation for why Sans pushed the family account on you. It felt nice to take care of the people you cared about and to have the means to do so. Your small phrase didn’t stop Butch from looking opprehensive as you gently returned the hoodie to his hands. “I wouldn’t do things like this if I couldn’t, Butch. The surface can mass produce cotton and I almost always buy when something is on sale. I’m kind of cheap like that. I won’t do this again without asking but, please, at least take this.”

“she’s right, Butch,” Sans nodded while eyeing your other bags with interest. “things are different up here.”

Butch looked over the hoodie in his hands, then his white lights glanced down at the one he wore. Specifically, at the holes in his sleeves that he habitually picked at. “thanks…” he mumbled softly, a gold flush appearing across his nasal ridge.

“Stars, Robin, did you get everyone new clothes?” Mutt asked, curiously digging through your bags while he ignored the awkward air between you and Butch. He pulled out a pair of sheer sweatpants (a bright, warm yellow with honeycomb on the right hip) and narrowed his eye lights at it. “Not really my style, but I’ll try them.”

“Most of those are for me,” you mumbled, your face pink as you pulled the pants from his grip. Some were for the brothers, but now you were seriously second guessing your decision to buy them. “I… only got clothes for Butch, Axe, and Red. Their sizes are easier to guess and more common. For someone as tall as you, Mutt, I’d have to take measurements and go to a specialty store.”

“Always knew I was special,” Mutt grinned and one of his red lights flickered as a wink. “Don’t worry about buying me clothes, pretty bird. I’ve got more than enough to last me a lifetime.”

“same here,” Sans gestured to the black shirt beneath his blue hoodie. You could see the band shirt he had ended up stealing from you and you quirked your eyebrow at him.

“Okay,” you nodded, still feeling a little awkward. “I’m, um, going to start some prep work in the kitchen.” You quietly started to gather up the remaining bags. The rest of the gifts could wait, they had to if you were cooking, but you were glad you could give Mutt, Butch, and Sans theirs right away. “I know it’s early, but there’s a lot to do for eleven people.”

“do you want… some help?” Butch offered quietly. The offer brought a smile to your face. If he wanted to be around you, he wasn’t that upset by your gift. More likely than not you had just caught him off guard.

“Oh no, you’re not weaseling out of our match!” Mutt playfully pulled Butch’s hood over his head and ground his knuckles into his brother’s skull. “I’m only one life down and there’s no way in hell I’m letting you think you’re better at Smash than me.”

“I’ll help,” San offered and you giggled, watching Butch pull out his sketchpad and whack Mutt in the knees with it. “watching a stalemate gets kind of old after awhile.”

“If you want, Butch, we’ll still need your help after the match.” you offered. You definitely needed help in the kitchen, but it obviously meant a lot to Mutt that he could have some last minute fun before hiding away in his room. That didn’t mean you wanted Butch to feel you didn’t need his help, either. 

Butch nodded at you. Mutt continued to gently tease him by trying to pull his hood further over his face. Butch let out a soft growl, jumped to his feet, and tried to hit Mutt again with the sketchbook. Mutt howled with laughter and bolted for the living room. You heard the rustle and thump of their bags as they dropped them and the clatter of their bony feet across the wood floor.

Shaking your head, you picked up the stack of cases that Butch had left behind and brought them to the living room. The two brothers were chasing each other around the couch and Mutt, with his longer reach, kept pulling at Butch’s hood with every opportunity. You picked their bags up off the floor, just to keep them safe, and put them in the recliner next to the movies and games.

Sans helped you carry the rest of your purchases to the kitchen. You took a moment to find the new tablecloth (a light shade of mint with dark vines of ivy along its borders) and fussed for a moment on how it should sit across the rectangular table. You nodded approvingly at a diamond pattern while Sans watched, his skull tilted in confusion. 

“does it really matter so much how it sits?” he asked you, watching you straighten the table cloth again so that the dark wood beneath it was exposed evenly at the corners. “it’s just going to get messy no matter how it sits, you know.”

“It gives the table a more unifying look than just letting it drape as a square.” Pulling out your phone, you leaned against the sink to double check the new recipes you found. “And it doesn’t matter if it gets messy. It still looks nice. If we’re having company I was hoping to make the kitchen seem a little more inviting for them.”

“as long as it makes you happy,” Sans shrugged. He leaned against the counter, hands in his pockets, to look over your shoulder at the recipes you browsed. You smiled at him and turned the screen towards his eye lights. You didn’t want to make a huge deal out of it, but you were glad that Sans had decided to come out of his room despite his argument with Pap. You had worried that he would isolate himself or slip into another depression with everything that was on his mind. 

There was only one bag you had that came from the grocery store. Knowing that your guests were monsters, and human food didn’t have magic, you had tried to be mindful of what was already in the house when considering your recipes. Thankfully, from what you remembered of the cupboards, there were only a few things you had needed to get to bring the night’s theme together. You hummed thoughtfully to yourself as you tried to do the mental math. How much would Undyne and Aquamarine eat? If they were anything like the brothers, a whole hell of a lot.

“so what’s on the menu?” Sans asked. His arm snuck around your waist and he leaned his skull on your shoulder under the guise of examining instructions on your phone’s screen. A small heat rose to your face and you smiled, thankful once again that he seemed to be maintaining a positive mood, and let your warm cheek rest against his skull.

“Comfort food with a southern flair,” you said. You flicked your finger across your phone to show him the open tabs. “Jambalaya is for the main course, since we can substitute the water sausage in. For sides I was thinking of cheddar and herb biscuits, a strawberry pecan salad, coleslaw, and fried okra. We’ll have apple pie and that vanilla ice cream in the freezer for dessert.”

“nice cream,” Sans corrected you.

“Only if you ask sweetly,” You winked at him, flirting with your teasing tone. Sans let the subject drop as a dusting of blue surfaced over his cheekbones.

“just tell me what to do,” Sans shrugged and his white light flickered by way of a wink. “seriously. I don’t cook and I’m not that great at it. unless I get to watch how you do it first, I’ve got ‘stir the pot’ down but that’s about it.” 

The biscuits and pie crusts were the first things to be made, you informed Sans, since the crust would take the most time and the biscuits could rest after they were baked. Sans dutifully darted around the kitchen to grab the ingredients you rattled off but, once you began the prep work together, you realized he had lied. He wasn’t just ‘not that great’ at cooking. He was downright terrible. Instead of crumbling, he had already crushed half the pecans to dust in his grip. He mistook salt for sugar so that you had to start the biscuit dough over, and chopped the cabbage for the coleslaw into such uneven chunks that it was almost unsalvageable. If you weren’t used to the chaos of cooking for his brothers, you’d be panicking. Instead, you had him switch with you to work on the doughs while you tried to salvage his attempts at helping.

“No, not like that,” you jumped over to where Sans attempted to follow your voiced instructions. You got behind him, reached under his arms, and placed your hands over his to guide his motions with the pastry cutter. “Pie crust needs those chunks of cold butter to make it nice and flaky. You need to be gentle and not over knead it into the flour. Use little rocking motions like this.”

You felt his skull heat up against your cheek as he realized he had messed up yet again. You giggled and nuzzled his flushed cheekbone. He was trying. If Pap had always done most of the cooking, it made sense Sans would be inexperienced. “It’s okay, Sans. I’ll take over the pie crust if you want to try again with shredding cheese off the block. I’ll need two and a half cups in that new biscuit dough. Just remember to be gentle. You’re not trying to shove the cheese through it and the grater doesn’t need a lot of extra force from you to slice.”

Sans ducked out from between your arms and let you take over dessert prep. He stood next to you for a moment, watching your experienced hands work. He rolled back and forth on his heels. When you turned to question him about his fidgeting, he caught your lips in a brief kiss before he retreated to the fridge. You smiled fondly and appreciated his quiet thanks for your patience.

With the biscuits baking and the pie crust resting in the fridge, you offered Sans your phone so he could gather up everything you needed to start the other courses. “I bought rice for the jambalaya and okra at the store, but the okra needs to be washed after we cut it until it stops leaking slime. Otherwise it’ll be a mess when we try to fry it.”

“it’s got slime?” Sans shot you a slightly disgusted look while you started chopping the said okra needed for the main course.

“That’s what the recipe says,” you shrugged. “I’ve never made fried okra before, but my mom used to make it now and then. It’s pretty tasty.”

Sans, determined not to mess up again, kept asking you for clarification on how to prep the rice and tomatoes for the jambalaya recipe. You ended up shuffling him over to the sink to wash the okra so you could work on the other dishes. The cabbage had been repaired by you, and the peppers for the jambalaya sat waiting on the cutting board, but the strawberries and romaine still needed to be cut up for the salad and the apples needed to be peeled and sliced for the pie.

“hey… Thyme?” Sans asked, his low tone unsure as he slowly turned the cut okra beneath the deluge of cold water from the tap. You looked up from the bubbling rice and tomato filled pot you stirred to see that he was staring down at the colander in the sink. “are you doing okay?”

“Yeah,” you said slowly, then shifted your working hands to focus on peeling apples. “Are you?”

Sans nodded and shuffled the okra in the colander around. “yeah. as good as I can be, anyway, all things considered. just wanted to make sure you weren’t feeling overwhelmed with company coming. I thought you might be getting anxious.”

“I’m a little nervous,” you admitted, a half peeled green apple in your hand, and turned to Sans. “If first impressions go alright, since I have no idea what their opinions on humans are, I guess I’d have to admit that my biggest worry is slipping up and talking about something I’m not supposed to. I know I can’t talk about Mutt or his cameras. Or about Ferals and…”

Your words drifted off as you thought about all the secrets you kept for the guys. Sans had been watching you as you spoke. He shook the last of the water off the okra and his hands, let the colander rest in the sink, and came to your side. He leaned on the counter next to you and stuffed his hands into the pockets of his blue hoodie.

“to be clear, literally anything that doesn’t have to do with cohabitation is off limits. especially anything you might know that could be used against the Queens and their subjects or that would make the Underground out to be less than a powerful, self-reliant country. whatever details you know about the Districts and the problems we have in them are things you shouldn’t know. things that are more general are in a bit of a grey area, like the fact that District 1 is covered in snow, but if you’re ever in doubt just change the subject or turn the question back on whoever asks. as long as you’re never alone with Undyne or Aquamarine my brothers or I can deflect hard to answer questions for you.”

You stared down at the pile of apple slices in front of you. Is that why Milord insisted on having this visit during this time off? He had wanted to make sure that the guests didn’t try to pry and find out how much you knew?

“But… if the subjects are off limits…” you said slowly, thinking carefully, “doesn’t that mean that they can’t talk about them, either?”

Sans grinned at you and nodded. “exactly. if you stick to subjects they bring up and don’t deviate too far then you won’t have any problems. just be careful when offering them information when you try to get to know them. like… don’t let Undyne know that you know she trained Pap or that she lives in District 2. don’t tell Aquamarine you know anything about the labs or the palace in New Home City. things like that. let them offer it to you, first, and build on the conversation like you never heard anything about it before. that way you can still get to know them. asking a question about something you already know about isn’t a lie and if it’s a sensitive topic they simply won’t answer you.”

You smiled softly, thanked Sans for the advice, and watched him flick a blue, plasma tipped finger at the colander of okra to bring it over to the stove. You really did appreciate his advice. The last thing you wanted to do was to say something that could get your family in trouble. Especially when they trusted you enough to tell you all that they had.

As you quietly finished the lattice crust on the apple pie, you also had to wonder how much experience Sans had with the advice he had given you. Keeping his own secrets and his expansive knowledge, (not to mention his inability to keep track of the proper timeline,) from his brothers had to be quite the task. You knew firsthand that Sans was great at deflecting questions back at people and his usual laid-back demeanor led others to think that he was just absent minded or forgetful. Now you fully appreciated Pap’s frustration. Sans was a master at hiding things.

You wondered. If Sans had never broken down emotionally during your first night stargazing together… how long would he have kept his secrets from you? He still tried to, but you had the persistence and keen observation to recognize when something was going on behind that lazy grin of his.

“Sans?” you asked quietly after you had slid the pie into the hot oven. He hummed and turned his skull towards you. He had shifted from the okra to the jambalaya and the wooden spoon he magically stirred clanked gently against the bubbling pot. “What about… me being an alpha? Can I talk about that? Or how I feel about all of you in general? If Undyne and Aquamarine don’t approve of a monster/human relationship I don’t want to cause any conflict…”

“should be fine,” Sans shrugged. “Undyne knows about you and she’s observant enough to know that Pap’s had a thing for you for quite some time. He talks about you every time we visit her. I can’t say for sure what Aquamarine’s opinion on humans is. Dyne doesn’t talk about him much and I don’t really keep in touch with Alphys anymore, either.”

You nodded, remembering that Sans knew both female monsters. Alphys was once his assistant when he was Royal Scientist and Undyne was the one who trained Pap. Mutt had also clarified that Undyne was Alphys’ alpha so you knew the three knew each other well. If they were all friends, or at least friendly, how did Sans not know Aquamarine? As you thought quietly on this, you scooped up the pile of chopped peppers from the cutting board and added them to the simmering tomato rice. The only things left were the water sausage, which needed to be added soon to the main dish, the okra, and the coleslaw. You grabbed a half dozen of the blue plants from the fridge and brought them to the counter to slice while a pan warmed for frying them.

“speaking of you being an alpha,” Sans came up behind you and snuck his arms around your waist. Your cheeks turned pink when you felt his warm breath on your neck. “how come none of your betas have marked you yet? I get that Mutt can’t, not with company coming, and Milord won’t, but how come Axe and Pap haven’t jumped on that?”

“W-wait, what?” your face flushed red in surprise as Sans spun you around. He took the knife from your hand and had you sidestep away further away from the hot burners, along the counter, before pressing himself against you. “How did you know…?”

“about Milord and Pap?” Sans chuckled and peppered your jawline with little skeleton kisses. “Pap told me about his own mark after you brought the car home. he was just too excited about everything to keep anything to himself. as for Milord… I’ve known since the day we played chess together. he wasn’t exactly subtle about how he feels about you. at least, he wasn’t to me.” Sans hummed thoughtfully to himself, the tip of his nasal cavity tickling your neck as he searched for a scent. “I can smell Axe on you when I’m this close, but you must’ve been around another beta if he didn’t try to fully mark you. Pap... must’ve never gotten the chance. Milord likes to start his day at the crack of dawn and if they went to the Underground together I know Milord would’ve been impatient.”

You shivered, and not just from the little bites Sans was using to tease your neck. Once again you had been completely surprised by how observant Sans could be. How eerily well he could guess a situation just from little things he saw here and there. Should you say something about Sans’ guess on Milord’s mark? He didn’t want to be known outside of the pack so maybe you shouldn’t confirm Sans’ guess...

“do you want mine?” Sans offered. His teeth hovered a hair’s breadth away from your lips as he awaited your permission. “you wanted to know what’s on my mind today, right? I’ll tell you. right now there’s a male that I don’t know hardly anything about coming to the house and I don’t like it. I’m anxious as it is for all the things that could happen around this time of year and if none of my brothers has put their mark on you, yet, I don’t want this guy thinking he can do what he likes around you without consequences.”

“Th-the others might try to cover it,” you squeaked out. The pack had gotten better with how they handled finding the marks of another beta on you, but it was easy to see that there might be a little jealousy if a mark came from Sans. Even if they knew you wanted to mark Sans eventually that didn’t make him your beta.

“I don’t care if they do,” Sans gave you a single shake of his skull. His white lights filled your vision as he leaned his forehead against yours. “I just want you safe. Dyne can get a little enthusiastic and doesn’t know her own strength. I know too little about Aquamarine personally and that makes me uneasy. no matter what, I want everyone to know I’m protecting you.”

“I’m not saying no,” you said gently, easing yourself out from Sans’ arms. “Let’s just not do this while we’re cooking. That’s how fires start.”

“after?” Sans asked, pursuing you when you returned to the cutting board. That water sausage really needed to get done or the timing for everything would get thrown off.

You let out a small sigh and stared at the squishy, magical blue plant in your hand. “I’m not against it, Sans, but have you thought about what Pap might think? You two are already a little rocky right now and he might not like you marking his alpha. I appreciate you wanting to protect me but I don’t want the two of you arguing again.”

“I said I was sorry for not telling him I’m bi. I don’t know what more he wants.” Sans’ low tone had a hit of impatience to it. As he rambled on to you, though, you had the feeling that he had been wanting to talk about this and had just been waiting to get you alone. “Paps get so flustered if you even mention intimacy. he was orange for days after I explained the basics to him after he reached physical maturity. so who the hell else am I supposed to go to when I want to talk about it? non-traditional sexuality isn't accepted by everyone and Mutt’s the only one I’ve ever known who isn’t bothered by anything outside the norm. hell, if you get the guy on a tangent he’ll gladly tell you more than you wanted to know about his past claims and kinks and-and  _ literally _ anything to do with physical intimacy!”

“Papyrus isn’t a kid anymore, Sans,” you said gently, putting a comforting hand on his shoulder. “Most people are awkward when they get ‘the talk.’ But Paps is a mature adult now and you should treat him that way. I know that can be hard for you because you raised him, but don’t you see that you’re more than just a big brother and a father figure to him? You’re his best friend, too. You’ve had to keep a lot from him growing up to protect him and to help him be happy, but let him have his turn to help you, too. He notices more than you think and it hurts him when you don’t open up.”

“...what does he notice?”

A patient sigh left you and you smiled softly at Sans. “All those times he calls you out for being ‘lazy?’ That’s him asking you about your depression. He doesn’t want to put it in a spotlight because he knows you don’t like talking about it, but he’s not going to ignore those moods and let you suffer quietly. That’s why he pushes you to do things when you’d rather just sleep. He notices when you don’t take care of yourself so he fusses. He’s not perfect, so gets frustrated and worries because he doesn’t know if what he’s doing is helping you since you won’t talk to him. He’s even asked me about marking you because he’s noticed you care about me and I’m sure he thinks you won’t pursue me yourself.”

“so he’s… not actually mad that I’m bi?” Sans mumbled. 

“No, Sans. He’s mad because he doesn't feel like he knows you anymore. You don’t have to tell him everything about you, but even something small like admitting to him when you’re having a bad day would mean a lot to him.”

He stared down at his pink slippers, his expression thoughtful, and you quietly shook your head. For someone as observant as he was, it amazed you that he hadn’t caught onto that sooner. Or maybe he just didn’t want to see it.

“I highly doubt Pap cares that you’re bi,” you pressed, making your point, and took up the knife again to slice up the water sausage. “He just wants you to open up, Sans. Him finding out you’re bi from Mutt instead of you might just be that one thing that ‘broke the camel’s back’ as they say. If you want-”

Blue goop exploded everywhere the moment your blade put the slightest pressure on the magic plant. You blinked the thick, soy-smelling slime from your eyes. What the hell just happened? You had seen Pap cook this a hundred times and it never exploded on  _ him. _

Your scream started small and grew in volume with your panic as you took in the mess. Glowing plant matter had been spattered all over your front, the walls, the counter, even the bowls of the finished and waiting salad and coleslaw. Sans roared with laughter, his melodic noise echoing around the kitchen as he clung to the counter to stay standing.

“guess that one was a bust!” He wiped a bit of the goop off your shocked face and held it up to your eyes. “don’t look so blue when it doesn’t go according to plant.”

“ _ Did you do this?!” _ you growled, smacking his hand away from your face. He shook his skull, unable to answer you as droplets of blue plasma welled up in the corners of his sockets with his humor. “DAMMIT SANS WE DON’T HAVE TIME FOR PRANKS!”

“n-no need to explode, Thyme.”

A snicker from behind you had you turning your head. Your panicked shouting had drawn Mutt and Butch back to the kitchen to investigate. Mutt had a hand over his sharp teeth and was doing his best to hide his humor. Butch looked sympathetic and rushed forward to help you.

According to Butch, (who calmed you down by immediately jumping in to take over dinner,) the mistake you had made was that you didn’t boil the water sausage first. It needed the hot water to firm up its watery insides. Then the corn-husk like outside had to be peeled away before anything else could be done with it.

“it’s okay… Lily,” Butch gently steered you towards the archway. “go clean up… I’ll get Mutt’s help and… we’ll finish the rest.”

Feeling a little moody that Sans and Mutt were still laughing at the mess, you shoved your phone into Butch’s hands with a stiff nod of thanks. The poppy dress you wore was already stained with the plant’s blue slime so you wiped your hands clean on it, grabbed your new dress from the bags, and stormed upstairs for a shower.

Even if it wasn’t Sans’ fault, you were already brainstorming a prank to get him with. It was good to hear him laugh again.

~~~

The shower was fast, and cold, but you were eager to get back downstairs and help Butch finish dinner. The dress you had grabbed was one that Abby had helped you find. It was a black, form fitting slip dress with a button collar high up on your neck. Black lace connected the open space over your chest and back, and had trailing half sleeves made of the same dark lace. The slim bell of the dress ended just above your knees. It reminded you a bit of a shorter, slim version of a classical victorian dress, only with a modern gothic flair. You had wanted something with a lot less lace but it was the only thing you had been comfortable trying on for Abby. A lot of her initial choices didn’t cover your scars. At least it went well with the white thigh-high socks you still wore.

You could hear the strum of Red’s guitar through his door and took a moment to listen while you finished braiding your wet hair into pigtails. That song sounded so familiar, yet you couldn’t place it. He kept going back to redo rifts and then would start again in some place totally different. “Red?” you called out, gently knocking as you let your last braid fall onto your chest. “Dinner should be ready any moment and our guests will be here soon, too. Do you want to come down?”

The sounds of his practice stopped and you heard shuffling beyond the closed door. “like I wanna fuckin’ sit around with a buncha fish dicks,” he growled. He seemed to be in a foul mood already at the mention of guests. It wasn’t a stretch to assume he was one of the ones who voted ‘no’ for company. Red yanked his door open, a scowl on his skull. He froze. His crimson eye lights widened in shock to see you all dressed up.

“Do you think it’s too much?” you asked, pink in the face, as he slowly looked you up and down. “I just wanted to make a good impression and be supportive… should I change?”

“th’ hell yeh tryin’ teh do teh me, Doll?” Red asked quietly. His hazing gaze lingered at the high button collar around your neck and his nasal ridge gained a dusting of crimson. Your pink color graduated to brick red. You didn’t think that the little piece of fabric would’ve been enough to tease his kink. If you had known it was then you wouldn’t have wasted money on the other one.

“I-I’m sorry, Red. I’ll go downstairs and see if my laundry is done so I can change,” you moved further down the hall before Red could figure out what he wanted to do. You reached up and knocked on Edge’s door to give him the same offer of an early dinner. “Edge? Do you-”

“no no no no!” Red sprang forward, clapped a hand over your mouth, and pulled you away from Edge’s door. You could feel the tension in his body as he held you against him, listening. After a full minute passed Red finally relaxed and let you go. “don’  _ ever _ ,” he hissed at you, “ _ ever _ wake up Edge if yeh don’ want shit thrown at yeh, Doll. fer fuck’s sake I’ve told yeh that before. wait till food’s done then come get ‘im.”

You opened your mouth to point out that you had known Milord to wake Edge up without problems, decided against it, and shut your mouth. Edge disliked you enough without you getting on his nerves first thing when he woke up. You nodded, took Red by the hand, and pulled him downstairs. He did not go quietly.

“come on, Doll,” Red stopped on the stairs and tried to pull you back onto the landing. “give me five minutes alone with yeh. I wanna show yeh how much I like what yeh got on-”

You shut Red up immediately by kissing him. He stared out, his eye lights wide in shock, then sighed into your lips. You pulled away before he could tangle his twitching fingers into your hair.

“If you behave around our guests,” you tempted him gently down the stairs with a little tug on his wrist, “then I’ll wear this again just for you. Deal?”

“...yer a fuckin’ tease, Doll.” Red growled through his smirk. The crimson color along his skull deepened as he allowed you to lead him downstairs.

The moment you entered the kitchen, Butch was calling you back to him for help while Red sank into a chair at the table across from Sans. Butch must’ve gotten impatient with Sans’ incompetence with cooking and banished him to the table. Mutt was silently following Butch’s quiet instructions and darted around the counter while Butch manned the stove.

Everything was finishing up at once despite the earlier mishap with the water sausage. The fried okra was sizzling enticingly in its pan, the jambalaya simmered with little bubbles intermittently popping on the surface of the thick sauce, and the oven sighed a breath of cinnamon and apple steam when you went to retrieve the pie. A towel, heavy with blue goop, lay forgotten in the sink after one of the boys had cleaned up.

“So… can I eat now?” Mutt’s raspy voice mumbled, his mood dour as he ferried a stack of plates over to you and Butch. “Not like I can once company arrives.” You paused as you considered Mutt’s question. You knew it was coming, but it was still a very strange thought to think that Mutt wouldn’t be eating with the rest of you for the next few days. You knew he had to stay hidden, but somehow the reality of the situation didn’t really hit you until just now. How would you sneak him food?

“if you wait a bit… we can eat together,” Butch offered Mutt with a shy smile. “I don’t really… like strangers and… being with you sounds more fun… than being alone in my room.”

“That works perfectly!” You smiled and pulled Butch into a hug, grateful for his offer and the idea it gave you. He flushed gold at the contact and looked a little confused as to why you were so excited. “If you and Mutt have dinner together the next few days, we won’t have any problems bringing Mutt food. If anyone asks, we can say it’s for you.”

“it would have to be all on one plate,” Sans pointed out, grinning at your sly workaround. “if they ask who the second plate is for, you’d be forced to lie. we all know you can’t do that around us, Thyme.”

“If Axe knows I’m taking food off Butch’s plate, I’m dust,” Mutt shook his skull. If skeletons had the ability to pale, he would be. You could see his eye lights shrink a bit in fear at the thought. “I’d rather go hungry.”

“I’ll… share my plate!” Butch immediately piped in. The force in his usually gentle tone caught the rest of you off guard. “I don’t mind… if it’s you, Mutt, and… Axe won’t care… if I say it’s okay. I don’t want you… to be hungry!”

“Speaking of Axe,” the bright smile you had, at Butch’s willingness to help Mutt, fell a little, “where is he? It’s not like him to be late for dinner.”

A flicker of yellow flashed in Sans’ left socket as he looked up at the ceiling. “...he’s outside,” Sans said, the colored magic of his soul sight quickly fading before his brothers could see it. “I’ll go find him. you stay inside, Thyme.” With that, he vanished from his chair. The smell of damp wood mixed with that of the cooking.

“So, are you thinking of sticking with me the whole time?” Mutt asked, watching Butch with appraising gaze while you tried to find a bigger plate. “I know you’re having problems with shortcuts because of your color change. If you’re trying to avoid company you won’t exactly be able to run around the house during the day. And Edge lurks around at night.”

“but you can… shortcut.” Butch pointed out. “you could… take me back to my room… at night. during the day we could… game together… if you come get me. or if they work… on your computer we could… watch movies. Lily got a bunch… of new ones I want to see.”

“We should grab a controller!” Mutt jumped to his feet, his eye lights shining bright. “You don’t know how to use a keyboard, right? If we’re facing off, it’s gotta be an even match or I’m not counting my win.”

Mutt dashed off to the living room, eager at the thought of company. Butch lingered in the kitchen with you, hesitating, until you gently encouraged him to follow his brother with a kiss on his cheekbone. Butch hurried after Mutt, glancing at Red as his older brother gave him a warning growl, and left you to plate food for the table. Once it was just you and Red, he got up from the table to lean against the sink. He didn’t offer to help you, he just quietly stuffed his hands in the pockets of his black hoodie, but you could tell that he wanted to be close to you.

You were holding a platter to your chest, staring at your still steaming dishes and debating on whether or not to wait for company to get here to serve the others, when you caught the scents of damp wood and iron.

“-not a big deal,” Sans’ low, soothing tone said as you turned. The sight of Axe standing there, covered in mud with the dress he wore torn to shreds, made you drop the platter. Red snatched it out of the air before he turned his bewildered gaze towards Axe.

“What the hell happened?!” you raced over to Axe and immediately began checking him for signs of injury. He flushed red and sheepishly avoided your gaze.

“he got into a fight with the wolves,” Sans calmly answered for his brother when he did not reply. “it’s not the first time the beta’s roughed him up a bit.”

“th’ fuck yeh lettin’ a buncha mangy dogs push yeh around fer?” Red rolled his crimson eye lights and set the platter on the countertop. “yer magic can give even vanilla a rough time when yer serious. rollin’ over like that fer a dumb animal’s fuckin’ embarassin’.”

“...I don’t want… to hurt them.” Axe mumbled to himself, avoiding all of your gazes, and let you pull at the rips in your old dress to check for dust. Some of his bones looked like they had been chewed on, but nothing that looked too serious. With a sigh of relief you remembered him telling you that the wolves weren’t strong enough to draw dust from him.

“...sorry… about your dress.” Axe finally spoke and his deliberate tone was laced with guilt. “...I didn’t think… it would tear so easy.”

“It’s fine, I don’t care about the dress,” you sighed again and pulled Axe into a tight hug. “It’s just fabric, Axe. I’m glad you’re okay.” You felt the guilty tension in his shoulders ease somewhat. Thinking of Butch, and his reaction to the new hoodie, you added, “Cotton is cheap up here so, honestly, don’t worry about it. I guess we’re lucky I went and got you new clothes today. Your usual ones are probably still in the dryer and you need something to change into-”

“WE’RE BACK, EVERYONE!”

You froze at the sound of Pap’s booming voice in the entryway. You thought you had more time. Axe needed to change and  _ Mutt was still upstairs! _

“easy.” Sans patted your back. Red, and Axe were watching you, too, and listening to the sound of your soul twitter in panic. “Mutt knew he had to disappear the moment Pap got home, that’s why he announced himself. I’ll get Axe changed and check on the others. where’s his clothes?”

You looked back towards the kitchen table. The bags were gone and you could hazard a guess that Mutt had brought them to his room for you. “Uh, downstairs,” you squeaked. You released Axe before you crushed him in your nervous grip and stared at the archway expectantly. “The blue flannel and the black pants with the white stripe are his.”

Sans nodded and gave you another reassuring pat on your shoulder. “don’t be nervous, Thyme.”

“yeh got us,” Red added with a grunt, his gold fang flashing with his smirk.

Sans whisked Axe away downstairs and left you standing with Red in the kitchen. You picked the platter off the counter and thumbed it nervously, fidgeting while you listened to the sounds of Font drifting in from the entryway. You recognized the deep, crackling lake ice of Milord, but didn’t recognize the garble of noise as others responded. 

“tiny’s tellin’ ‘em ‘bout the house,” Red’s rough tone mumbled in your ear. You smiled at him, appreciating the translation. You also noted the dark look that settled on Red’s expression and took his hand in yours. You knew that Undyne worked for the Guard as a trainer. Was he nervous, too, to have another Guardsman in the house? Was Aquamarine in the Guard, too?

Just as you were taking a curious, tentative step towards the archway to glimpse the guests, you heard someone approaching. Pap stepped through and spoke over his shoulder in a loud, rumbling Font that sounded like thunder rolling. An anxious thought coursed through your mind - what if your guests only spoke in Font? Red had once said that monsters could learn another language by understanding intent, but now you were second guessing if language came as easily to others as it did to him. He had a gift.

“IT SMELLS WONDERFUL IN HERE… OH! THERE YOU ARE!” Pap said brightly, spotting you and Red next to the counter. His white lights spotted your dress, and your hand clasped with Red’s, but he seemed too excited to focus much on anything. Pap simply took your other hand and gently pulled you towards the entryway. “COME MEET UNDYNE AND MARRIE! I’VE BEEN TELLING THEM ABOUT YOU, HONEY, AND THEY’RE EXCITED TO MEET YOU!”

Pap’s overwhelming energy, his excitement for you to meet his friends, was contagious. A smile made its way onto your face and you left your anxiety behind in the kitchen as he gently pulled you along into the entryway. Red growled irritably and his grip tightened on yours.

No matter how nervous and excited you were, you couldn’t help but stare. The words Pap was saying to you were lost as you looked up at the two towering figures near the door. One was slightly taller than the other, but they both were nearly as tall as Pap. Both had long, coppery red dreadlocks tied back in a ponytail and their skin was a dark, wet-looking navy blue. They had bright, blood-red fins where their ears would be and the fins gently fluttered despite the lack of a breeze. The hall, you noticed, smelled like seaweed and freshly cut fish.

“THIS IS UNDYNE!” Pap pointed out the taller of the two guests. You could tell immediately she was female by the small bust visible beneath her black tank top, but your gaze lingered for a moment on the lean muscles rippling beneath her navy-colored skin. A large, black metal collar with many tubes and glass walls was around her neck, bubbling quietly. She also wore black slip pants, like those you would see on a martial artist, and black combat boots. A purple scarf was tied around her waist and a black eyepatch sat over her left eye. Undyne had her arms behind her back and she stood stiffly like a soldier at attention while you appraised her. Her stiffness didn’t stop her from giving you a nod of acknowledgement.

Pap pointed out the second guest. “AND THIS IS HER BROTHER, MARRIE!”

Marrie was very much like his sister, but he was a few inches shorter and his build was far more slight than his muscular sister. He wore a zipped up, pure white, leather lab coat that covered most of his body and wore one of those black, bubbling collars around his neck as well. His shoulders were slightly hunched while he stood, like he was used to being constantly bent over for work. Marrie withdrew one of his hands from his pockets and offered it to you. He wore white leather gloves as well, though the fingers seemed abnormally short compared to the palm. You politely took his hand and shook it. There was a space you felt between his fingers that the glove covered. You looked down, curious why he would want gloves that didn’t fit, and let him turn your hand in his grip to examine with narrowed eyes. With a small realization, you wondered if he had webbing between his fingers. That’s why the gloves’ palms were so long.

As an afterthought, you wondered about Marrie’s attire. If cotton was expensive in the Underground, leather had to be worth its weight in gold. Monsters might not eat meat (though they still consumed milk and cheese) but raising cows without any sustainable form of agriculture had to be incredibly costly.

Wanting to be welcoming, especially if your guests didn’t know English, you tried your best to focus your thoughts and let a few small, timid chirps at them. Marrie’s grip tightened on your hand for a moment, almost painfully so, and Milord’s jaw fell ever so slightly before he hid his surprise behind a frown. Undyne and Marrie openly stared at you, their dark, onyx colored eyes wide with surprise. Red’s sour demeanor broke slightly to give you a proud smile.

Marrie spoke, flashing you his sharp teeth and a wink of metal as a questioning murmur of radio static left him. You didn’t know what he was saying, but you had a very good guess what it was.

“No, I don’t speak Font that well,” you chuckled nervously. “But I’m trying to learn. Do you… speak much English?”

“They do, as they have both been formally educated,” Milord said coolly, eyeing you and Red with narrowed eye lights. “Colonel Arvo, Aquamarine, this is our groundskeeper.” 

You could hear the small growl Red gave as he was purposefully ignored in the introductions. Milord glared at Red and your anxiety spiked from the tension between them.

“You can call me Marrie, everyone does,” Marrie’s voice was a warm tenor without the sound of his Font and he nodded at you, his red dreadlocks twitching with the movement. He still had a hold on your hand and you had to make a small effort to take it back. That didn’t seem to deter Marrie from stepping forward and examining you with an excited glint in his onyx eyes. “How absolutely fascinating! When Papyrus informed us you were interested in monster culture, I never imagined such interest to stretch as far as learning our language. I assumed such a feat would be impossible for a human.”

He seemed… chipper. Especially considering the whole reason Pap had pushed for this visit was because of what happened to Undying. Was it possible Undyne and Marrie hadn’t been told, yet?

“I, um, I have a really good teacher,” you smiled, glancing at Red. You wouldn’t know as much Font as you did without his help. You also gave Undyne and Marrie your name and Red’s, though the introduction just caused Undyne to quirk a brow at you.

“I thought your name was ‘Honey?’” Undyne asked. Her voice was quite deep for a female, and her tone was a little gruff like she had gone a long time without speaking.

“You can call me ‘Honey’ if you like,” you said, looking up at Pap. “If that’s okay with you?”

“OF COURSE!” Pap beamed proudly and went to usher his friends toward the kitchen. “WE SHOULD EAT WHILE EVERYTHING IS STILL WARM. HONEY MAKES THE MOST DELICIOUS DESSERTS AND I KNOW YOU’LL LIKE EVERYTHING ELSE, TOO!”

“It was nice to meet the help!” Marrie waved a hand at you as he followed Pap towards the kitchen. 

Red bristled at those words. His hands tightened painfully around yours and you winced at the pressure. “th’ fuck yeh just call her, yeh uppity piece a-” You cut of his angry growls by withdrawing your hand from his and placing your touch on his elbow. Marrie’s words stung a little, but it wasn’t worth getting angry over. Milord had, after all, introduced you as ‘the groundskeeper’ and knowing him he had kept anything said about you strictly professional.

Undyne remained near the door, standing stiffly, until Milord let out an irritated sigh.

“At ease, Colonel,” he said. Undyne visibly relaxed. “I will not reiterate again to you that you are off duty during this visitation. While I expect your usual level of respect, the formalities are unnecessary.”

“Yes, sir. Thank you, sir,” Undyne bowed her head. It would have been almost comical, this giant woman of a monster, in both height and bulk, bowing to a short skeleton. But you knew Milord and how strict he could be. Undyne waited, awkward, beneath Milord’s unyielding stare. When he didn’t say anything more to her she hurried towards the kitchen after Papyrus and Marrie without giving you and Red another glance.

“Mind how you conduct yourself, convict,” Milord warned Red in a sharp, icy undertone as he passed the two of you. “Or you will deeply regret it.”

“fuck you, yeh mother fuckin’-”

The rest of Red’s insult, thankfully, was cut off by a loud clamor in the kitchen. Milord rushed towards the noise and you followed, pulling a growly Red along behind you. You made sure to keep yourself between the two brothers while you saw the source of the commotion.

Pap and Undyne were tugging the tray of cheddar biscuits between them, barking a rolling thunder or a rushing rapids of Font at each other as they fought over the tray. Sans calmly ducked under and around their long legs, balancing the serving platter on one hand as he loaded it up with food. Marrie sat quietly at the table, examining the new table cloth with interest and ignoring the commotion around him. 

The tray Pap and Undyne were fighting over slipped from their hands and flew into the air. Biscuits scattered, almost in slow motion, before becoming suspended mid-fall by lavender plasma. The smell of frost permeated the room. Undyne caught the very unamused look her Captain wore and she bowed again, apologizing in a burble of river Font.

“English, Colonel,” Milord flicked his wrist and the biscuits settled neatly back onto the tray. 

“My apologies, sir!”

“hey Thyme, do you or Red want to get Edge?” Sans asked you, the platter in his hand piled with food. “I’ll grab Axe when I give this to Butch.”

“I’ll get Edge,” Red growled under his breath. He glared at Milord and Undyne before turning on his heel and going back to the entry hall. You let out a small sigh of relief. At least he was giving himself a chance to cool off before his temper got the best of him.

“THANKS, RED!” Pap said cheerfully, any irritation from his argument with Undyne completely forgotten. He stopped you before you took another step towards the entryway (to check on Red) and steered you back to the table. Undyne had taken the seat next to Marrie, and Pap very purposefully put you in the spot beside her. “YOU JUST RELAX, HONEY, AND LET ME DO THE REST. I CAN TELL YOU PUT A LOT OF EFFORT INTO DINNER FOR US.”

“Pap, I told you that you don’t have to treat me like this,” Undyne growled under her breath, a dark blue flush rising onto her cheeks, as Pap placed a plate in front of her.

“NONSENSE! YOU’RE MY GUEST, UNDYNE, LET ME DO THIS FOR YOU!”

Once Sans went down to feed Butch and Mutt, and Red went to get Edge, that left you just sitting awkwardly with the two pisceans. Milord was at the other end of the table, by himself, and was quietly eating as though nothing out of the usual was happening. 

Marrie was staring down at you. He didn’t seem to blink at all until you noticed that he had a second, almost invisible set of lids that blinked horizontally over his dark eyes. Undyne was staring at her plate and the pile of extra biscuits Pap had put there. She scratched once at the bubbling collar around her neck, but otherwise kept still.

You knew from the way Pap had talked about Undyne, and how much he had wanted her to be here in her time of need, that they were more than just Ex-trainer and trainee. They had to be very good friends. You hadn't heard about Aquamarine before the visit was announced, but Pap wouldn’t have sat you where he did if he wasn’t excited for you to know them.

“So, um, is this your first time on the surface?” you asked the two, well aware of the awkward air that was starting to build between you. Undyne glanced at you with her good eye, but she stuffed a cheddar biscuit in her mouth to avoid answering.

“It is,” Marrie nodded to you and you focused your attention on him. “The Captain is quite stingy about approving visas so I’m surprised we were able to come up here at all. It’s very dark, isn’t it? I was under the impression the sun would be a lot brighter.”

A small giggle escaped you as you glanced out of the window. “That’s the, um, the moon, Marrie. You’ll see the sun once it rises in the morning.”

“It’s also very dry.” Marrie tapped the tip of his gloved finger on the tabletop. Pap returned to the table with plates for you and Marrie and the male piscean thanked him with a nod. “It’s better up here than in District 3, but my barbels haven’t stopped itching since we surfaced. Though that could be tree pollen. They always act up whenever I’m in District 1, which is hardly ever, mind you.”

He lived in Hotland? You opened your mouth, then shut it again. Information on the Districts was a bit of a grey area. Since you didn’t want to reveal how much you knew, but did not want the conversation to stop now that it had started, you decided to avoid any details. “If you don’t like dry air, why do you live there?”

“My job,” Marrie shrugged and gestured to his long, white leather coat. “I’m the assistant scientist, you see. I may only be in my teendreds but I’m more than qualified. I’m the fastest monster to get through basic studies on record.”

Your eyes widened. You knew that Sans had been young, too, when he was given the title of Royal Scientist, but Sans also had a flawless memory. It was still no less impressive that Marrie had become an assistant at such a young age. And he was already as tall as Edge! How much bigger could his subspecies get? 

Marrie hummed, pleased by your astonished silence. His gaze darted to your side, at his sister, and his warm tenor voice chilled. “Undyne, stop picking at the apparatus. You’re going to rip a hose out.”

“It’s itchy!” she snapped at him, her deep tone turning her words into a growl. “I’m not used to wearing the damn thing on my gills all the time like you.”

You turned to Undyne and eyed her fidgeting hand. A memory surfaced and you recalled that Sans once told you he built a breathing apparatus for Alphys’ girlfriend as a favor. Was that the same one he had built? You also noticed, now that Undyne was sitting and you were closer, that there was a translucent, light blue webbing between her fingers and she had sharp, claw-like nails the color of pearls. Your guess about Marrie’s oddly shaped gloves had been right.

“What, I got something on my face?” Undyne glared down at you with her right eye, her azure lip curling back ever so slightly to show off the tips of sharp teeth. Being this close, you could see that they were also serrated - like a shark. You quickly shook your head.

“Just, um…” you pointed at your own neck. “Just looking at that. I’ve never seen one before.”

“Do you like it?” Marrie asked. You turned your gaze his way again and saw his wide smile. You hadn’t noticed before, but he had braces. “It’s my own design, you know. She had this old model but whatever idiot that built it has no idea how to make an efficient machine.”

A dark slither of anger coiled in your stomach. Sans had built that and he wasn’t an idiot.

“At least the old model didn’t need to be refilled  _ and _ recharged,” Undyne grumbled, saving you from saying something in Sans’ defense. “It was a little bulky, but at least I don’t taste disinfectant every time I breathe.”

It was at this point Red returned. He sauntered in, took one look at the company at the table, and scowled. He took a seat on your right and glared daggers at the two pisceans. Edge came next, and you nearly got whipped in the face by Undyne’s hair. The glare she gave him was more than just venomous - it was flat out loathing. Her dreadlocks writhed on her back and you could see she had more blood-red fins, on her elbows and shoulder blades, that bristled at Edge’s appearance. A dark growl escaped her throat and she dug her sharp, claw-like nails into the tabletop. Mahogany plasma curled around her fingers while the citrusy smell of oranges crept through the air. From that reaction alone, you knew she knew about her sister and that she had more than a little resentment towards Edge for her death.

Edge, on the other hand, stared down at her with a sneer on his skull, his red lights flickering with some unreadable emotion. He turned away from Undyne and yanked a plate out of Pap’s hands before storming out.

You stared, wide eyed, at Undyne’s moving hair. Now that Edge was gone it started to calm down again and Undyne focused her anger by inhaling her food. She did, you noticed, at least stop to chew the biscuits.

“ARE YOU OKAY, UNDYNE?” Pap asked, his white lights flickering with concern while he handed a plate to Red. He set another at the spot next to him for whatever brother sat there next. Undyne gave Pap a curt nod, a burble of river Font, and focused her good eye on her coleslaw. He gave her a shrewd look, an unbelieving one, but let the matter go as he let his hand gently touch the top of your head as he passed. 

“Um…” you were completely surprised by what just happened with Undyne. Not so much by the response, you could understand her blaming Undying’s death on her partner, but the moving hair caught you off guard. You turned to Marrie, the friendlier of the two new entities, and pointed at your head in a silent question.

“Hm?” He tilted his head at you, his onyx eyes glancing at your own hair. Without any warning, he reached out, grabbed one of your braids, and pulled you forward by it so he could examine it. “Does yours not receive sensory input? It’s awfully thin for barbels, but I assumed-”

Marrie’s words were cut off when Red grabbed his wrist. The white leather creaked under Red’s grip and an angry growl vibrated his ribs. Red’s sockets were dark, but you could tell he was looking right at Marrie.

“touch her again, an’ I’ll bite yer fingers off,” Red’s tone dripped bloodlust and Marrie quickly released your braid.

“It, um, doesn’t feel things, but please don’t grab it like that,” you said quickly, trying to banish some of the hostility in the air. You took Red’s hand under the table in the hopes that the touch would help keep him calm. Between Red and Undyne’s unwelcoming attitudes, you didn’t know who would pick a fight first. Or possibly even Pap, judging by the glare he shot at Marrie. “I get you might be curious, and I don’t know how many humans you’ve met, but we have hair. I don’t know what a barbel is.”

“Really?” Marrie rested his elbow on the table and leaned towards you to examine the top of your head. He glanced at Red and made sure the motion was clear he had no intention to touch you. “But what is the point in having fur only on the top of your head? Barbels, since you are unaware, are stimulus receptors similar to antennae. My subspecies uses them to sense changes in the flows of currents, or to detect motion in the water around us. Normally they’re quite free flowing, but due to the dry air, my sister and I are keeping them tied back to prevent loss of moisture through the abundant surface area.”

And they react to emotions, you added quietly to yourself. Like how the guy’s eye lights could shrink or widen, flicker or haze, unbidden depending on how they were feeling. Glancing at Undyne again you saw that her dreadlocks, (barbels, you corrected yourself,) had finally stilled.

The last of the brothers, Sans and Axe, finally returned from the basement. A small sigh of relief left you to see Sans smiling as he spoke to Axe, and a warm glow of affection filled you as your gaze took in Axe. The blue flannel you had bought fit him nicely and the black track pants weren’t too big. If the elastic waistband didn’t fit you had no idea how to rig a belt to them.

“‘sup, Dyne?” Sans waved a hello at her and took the place two seats over from Marrie, next to Milord. Pap brought over a pair of plates, looked slightly disappointed that the spots near Undyne had been taken, and took the place left for him between Sans and Marrie.

“Hey, skelepun. What’s-” Undyne’s words fell short as she stared, her right eye wide, at the hole in Axe’s skull. “Dude! That’s one hell of a scar!” she exclaimed excitedly. Axe, who had stopped by your side to let you see how his gift fit, tilted his skull curiously at her wide smile. Undyne pointed at her eyepatch. “Show me yours and I’ll show you mine? I bet the story behind yours is pretty great!”

“...not really.” Axe returned Undyne’s impressed expression with his own vacant grin, though he still turned his skull to the side to show off his jagged scar to her. Undyne gave him a broad smile and flipped up her eyepatch without hesitation. You and Axe stared, curious, at the three old, pink claw marks that marred Undyne’s left socket. Even Marrie took a moment to look away from Axe to check out what was beneath his sister’s eyepatch. The eye itself was the milky white of blindness and it stared out from beneath her ruined eyelid in a different direction than her good eye. Feeling she had thoroughly impressed both you and Axe, Undyne flipped her eyepatch back over her eye and let out a gruff chuckle. 

“Badass, right? Not like yours,” Undyne nodded to Axe as he found the seat next to Red, “but still.”

Their reactions towards each other, immediate bonding over scars, was something very new to you. You had been told time and time again by the brothers that monsters were proud of their scars, but this was the first time you had seen an interaction like this. They had just met, but Undyne’s earlier bad mood was gone as she leaned over the table around you and Red, trying to tempt Axe into telling her his scar’s story. Axe remained silent and wore his vacant grin, staring at Undyne silently while she gave him question after question about his scar.

“DON’T BOTHER, UNDYNE, HE WON’T TELL ANYONE HOW HE GOT IT,” Pap shook his skull. “WE’VE ALL TRIED BUT ONLY BUTCH KNOWS WHAT HAPPENED. AND YOU’LL BE LUCKY IF YOU SEE BUTCH, LET ALONE SPEAK TO HIM.”

“Shy guy, huh?” Undyne asked affectionately. Pap nodded and she snickered mischievously. “Maybe I’ll bring Al if I get to visit again and we can have a contest over which of them gets nervous faster.”

Pap’s booming laugh filled the kitchen. “I BET I KNOW WHO WOULD WIN!” He added quickly at Axe’s low, warning growl, “BUT YOU SHOULDN’T TEASE BUTCH, UNDYNE. ALPHYS KNOWS YOUR JUST HAVING FUN WHEN YOU DO THAT TO HER.”

It felt good to watch Undyne finally come out of her shell. The new person sitting here laughing and gesturing wildly while she spoke was completely different from the stiff, angry one you knew so far. You were a little sad that she didn’t seem eager to show that side to you, but you were okay with that. You were a stranger, and a human, and you didn’t expect someone going through what she was to open up to you right away. Or at all.

Marrie, on the other hand, was much nicer and seemed eager to talk to you despite his loss. You didn’t like that he called you ‘the help’ or grabbed your hair the way he did, but you understood. No doubt Milord made sure to emphasize that you worked for the Gasters. And you remembered that Mutt had also wanted to touch your hair when you first met. It was simple curiosity on Marrie’s part, even if he hadn’t been so gentle. It would be weird if a young scientist like him wasn’t bursting with curiosity. So when Marrie leaned forward to speak to you again, you were happy to strike up a conversation despite Red’s fidgeting thumb across the back of your hand.

“Where do you stay?” Marrie asked. “The Captain informed us of the house’s layout when we arrived, but he never mentioned you outside of your employment. You’re an in-house employee, if I understand Papyrus correctly?”

“Oh, yeah, I’m in the basement,” you replied, your chest tightening just a little. Milord hadn’t mentioned you at all outside your job? “If you need laundry done while you’re here, just knock and I’ll come up and throw it in for you. And I’m well aware of how to care for leather, so I know how to take care of your coat.”

“Is that how it is? You stay in the basement and only come up when they need you for work? Or,” his dark eyes glanced at your neck, “is there some other arrangement I’m unaware of?”

You blinked and touched your fingers to your neck. None of the guys had marked you recently... Feeling the cloth collar of your dress, you let out a small laugh and shook your head. “It’s just part of my dress.”

“So you are aware of the significance of collars in my culture?”

Red’s grip tightened painfully again and it was like someone had dumped a bucket of ice water in your gut. You reminded yourself that you had to be careful with everything you said. “I… know the meaning is different than what humans think,” you said slowly, carefully picking your words to try and fix your mistake. “We wear collars for fashion, mostly. Some people place more meaning to them, but I bought this dress just to look nice.”

“I see… would you say you’re adjusting well to living with my kind?”

“Well, yeah,” you nodded, feeling a little proud of how well you and the brothers understood each other. “It wasn’t easy at first, but I’m glad I found this place. Everyone here has been nice to me.”

“Everyone?” Marrie quirked a red eyebrow at you.

“Okay, most,” you admitted, turning a little pink under his unblinking stare. “Not everyone likes me and there were a few of the brothers I didn’t get along with at first, but I’m grateful for the relationships I’ve made with everyone.”

“I see.”

“Um, can I ask about your braces?” you asked, setting your fork down to point at your own teeth. “I didn’t know monsters ever needed them.”

Marrie gave you a warm chuckle. “It’s more of an experiment, really. My teeth are only slightly off center, nothing that really bothers my ability to eat, but when I stumbled upon the concept I had to see if it would work.”

“And you’re okay?”

“Why wouldn’t I be?”

You bit your lip, unsure if you had unwittingly stumbled into another subject you weren’t supposed to talk about. How did the guys manage to do this all the time? “I just know that certain metals aren’t good for monsters.” You glanced at Red, who had struck up a low conversation with Axe to distract himself, and Marrie caught your gaze.

“You’re correct,” Marrie nodded when he caught your line of sight on Red’s gold fang. “Certain metals are quite reactive, but my braces are made of titanium. It is one of a few metals that is alchemically neutral to my species.”

“What does that mean? ‘Alchemically neutral’?”

Marrie grinned at you and handed you his plate. “I understand there is dessert as well?”

Either that was something he wasn’t supposed to talk to you about, or he was trying to keep your attention so you came back to him for more conversation. Either way, you appreciated that you had a chance to breathe. You took Marrie’s plate without complaint and went to serve dessert.

You set Marrie’s plate on the counter to dig the vanilla nice cream out of the freezer. The apple pie was still warm to the touch and you knew the vanilla would pair nicely. Since you were already up, you asked the rest of the table to hand over their plates.

“THANKS, HONEY,” Pap’s white lights softened over his grin as you handed him and Marrie their plates back. The affectionate look caused a warm feeling to rise in your chest and Undyne quirked a red eyebrow at you.

“Is it always this easy to gauge her emotions?” she asked Pap in her gruff voice. You turned pink with embarrassment and retreated back to the counter with Sans and Milord’s empty plates. 

“That is a strange noise, isn’t it?” Marrie asked, his gaze following your movements. “I’ve noticed a variety of fluctuations since we got here. What does that one mean, Undyne? Or would Papyrus know better?”

“UM, HONEY DOESN’T REALLY LIKE IT WHEN WE DRAW TOO MUCH ATTENTION TO HER SOUL SOUNDS.” Pap scratched at the back of his skull, looking a little awkward.

“Hey, Marrie, if you learn to read soul sounds you might actually get along better with humans than monsters,” Undyne let out a small, burbling laugh that didn’t quite hide the bitterness in her tone. A sinking feeling settled in your guts. That comment had been intended as a jab, you were sure of it. Pap had told her about you, and you had been so sure that Undyne was a little standoffish because of her situation… but could it be she didn’t like humans? Was she avoiding conversation with you so she could maintain politeness?

You quietly handed Sans and Milord their dessert and considered what you should do. Even though you were curious about the new monsters, it might be best to let Undyne have her space. The whole reason she and Marrie were here was for support during their mourning period. You knew from experience how hard that could be on it’s own and you didn’t want to give Undyne any additional stressors just by being there. She needed her friends, not some strange human.

At least Marrie was pretty nice, even if he could be a little rude.

You returned to the table with one last plate and the pie tin, piled with a doubled serving of ice cream, in your hands. “Axe? When you’re done with the other plates, could you please take this down to Butch?” you asked him, handing the tin laden with dessert to him. “Pap? Don’t worry about the dishes tonight. I’ll take care of them once everyone’s done eating.”

Axe gave you a small nod and added a licked-clean plate to the growing stack in front of him. Marrie was watching Axe with a furrowed brow, seemingly confused by the skeleton’s behavior.

“HONEY, YOU DON’T HAVE TO DO THAT,” Pap called out to you as you carried the last plate towards the archway. 

“It’s okay,” you smiled back at him. “Spend time with your friends and let me worry about cleanup.”

The low, burbling rush of Undyne’s river-like Font followed you out into the entry hall, along with a bark from Milord. “English, Colonel! If I tell you again I will cut funds to your future education since you clearly do not practice the material!”

“Sorry, sir!” 

A soft smile tugged at your cheeks. You realized now that Milord was trying to make sure you could understand what was being said. 

The second story landing was quiet. A bit of tension you didn’t realize you were carrying fell from your shoulders now that you had space. You were tempted to stand there a moment longer, but the ice cream was melting and if you waited too long eventually the guests would come up when they sought out their room.

Edge answered on your third knock. He was in his loose, charcoal-grey shirt and black silk pants again. His red lights widened at you as you held up the plate of apple pie and ice cream to him.

“You forgot dessert,” you said, offering him a small smile. He said nothing as he took the plate in his red leather gloves. It was unusual for him to be so quiet, he almost always had some kind of snarky remark to make, but you were okay with it. You’d be quiet too if Undyne directed her earlier dark vehemence at you.

Knowing that Edge wouldn’t want your company, you left him in his doorway to return to the stairs. You sat on the top step, adjusting the bell of your black lace dress so that it sat comfortably. The excitement of the day, from finals and company and waking up incredibly early, was all starting to catch up to you. All you wanted was a couple moments to breathe. 

To your immense surprise, Edge sat on the stairs next to you.

“I’M NOT LETTING DIRTY DISHES STAY IN MY ROOM,” he grumbled, his sharp tone blunted. He avoided your gaze and moodily stabbed at his ice cream to break it apart. “SO SIT HERE AND WAIT OR I’LL THROW THEM DOWN THE STAIRS FOR YOU TO PICK UP LATER.”

A small chuckle escaped you. Of course he didn’t actually want to be by you. He just didn’t want to be around Undyne and Marrie more.

So you sat quietly with Edge, listening to the murmur of conversation drift up from the kitchen and the soft clink of Edge’s spoon while he ate. You glanced at him out of the corner of your eye, curious to know if he was feeling better after the impromptu healing you had tried to give him. It surprised you to see that he had been watching you, too, out of the corner of his sockets. He quickly looked away when you noticed and stabbed at his food again.

“Do, um, do monsters learn a lot of things when they’re in the Guard?” you asked, trying to break the awkward feeling creeping over you.

“WHY DO YOU CARE?” Edge grumbled.

“Something Milord said got me thinking,” you shrugged and spoke quietly to keep your voice from carrying downstairs. “I know the Underground doesn’t exactly have public education, but don’t Guardsmen need to know a lot of things to do their jobs? Like how to read and write to communicate, or having problem solving and deductive reasoning skills to handle various situations?”

Edge nodded stiffly at you. “IT’S PART OF THE INCENTIVE TO JOIN.”

“You mean from the Queens?”

Edge nodded again. “GOLD, EDUCATION, AND STATUS FOR A LIFETIME OF LOYALTY TO THE CROWN. MOST MONSTERS WOULD GIVE THEIR SOULS FOR THAT TRADE. MOST GET REJECTED. YOU HAVE TO BE INTELLIGENT AND POWERFUL TO MAKE IT INTO THE GUARD.”

You took your turn to nod and stared down at your twiddling thumbs. Red had once told you that many parents tried to enlist their kids to keep them off the streets. It wasn’t just to keep them out of trouble, though. It was to give them a better life. Is that why Edge stayed in the Guard? The guarantee of a better life than he had?

Realization settled on you and you smiled. Edge was talking to you. Without any insults or condescending remarks. It felt awkward as hell, but he had answered a question without berating you. Maybe you really could be friends. You glanced up at Edge again, wondering if you could ask how his day had been, and caught him staring at you again. This time, it took him a moment to see that you had noticed. His eye lights were too busy wandering over the black lace of your dress. When he finally realized you had caught him, he shoved his dishes into your hands and rose from the steps with an angry black flush across his nasal ridge.

“STAY THERE, YOU STUPID PET!” he snapped and returned to his room. “YOU’RE TAKING THE OTHER ONES, TOO!”

You laughed under your breath and rose to your feet, too. There was the Edge you knew. Prickly and abrasive. Still, it was nice to see that he had moments of civility.

“-just up here. there’s only one bed, but it should be big enough for both of you.”

“That’s acceptable. It’s only for a few days, after all.”

You turned on the landing and spotted Sans bringing Marrie upstairs. Sans took a hand out of his pockets to give you a small wave and Marrie gave you a sharp-toothed smile that showed off his braces.

“hey, Thyme, just showing Marrie where he and Undyne are staying.” Sans said as he and Marrie crested the landing.

“Oh! You two are also welcome to share my bathroom, if you like,” you pointed out the door across from Red’s. You didn’t know if pisceans liked to bathe, but you felt it was polite to at least offer.

“Duly noted,” Marrie’s smile widened. He looked you up and down with an appraising gaze. “Feeling alright, little human? I don’t blame you for leaving the room. My sister can be kind of a bitch. Oh, hey there Lieutenant! Still resting up after the big fiasco?”

You looked over your shoulder to see that Edge had reemerged from his room with his dishes. Despite Marrie’s hunched shoulders, you noticed he was the same height as Edge. Somehow, Edge managed to still glare down at the piscean. Without breaking eye contact, Edge shoved the remaining dishes from his dinner into your hands.

“I DON’T NEED REST.” Edge’s sharp tone cut through the air along with his growl. “I’D BE BACK IN THE FIELD IF THE CAPTAIN DIDN’T HAVE A STICK UP HIS COCCYX.”

“Ah, you shouldn’t be so eager, Lieutenant. Cracked bones must be awfully fragile without pseudo-flesh to cushion blows.”

“GO FUCK YOURSELF!” Edge snarled. He stepped forward to get in Marrie’s face and Sans’ arm reached out to push you safely behind him. “I AM NOT FRAGILE IN ANY SENSE OF THE WORD. I COULD EASILY SNAP YOU LIKE THE PATHETIC TWIG YOU ARE.”

“Careful how you speak to me, Lieutenant,” Marrie’s warm tone cooled despite his continued smile. “Remember that I outrank you.”

“Edge,” Sans’ low tone hummed with a warning. “just let it go.”

Edge really, really looked like he would’ve preferred to punch Marrie square in the jaw. But he glanced out of the corner of his sockets, at his eldest brother and his lazy grin, and hesitated. With one last growl at Marrie, Edge turned on his heel and returned to his room; slamming the door behind him.

“sorry about him,” Sans said to Marrie. “he treats everyone like that and you’re better off just avoiding him.”

“I’ve heard about his temperament from my sister.” Marrie shrugged it off like it was no big deal and shoved his hands into the pockets of his white leather lab coat. You wondered to yourself if he was talking about Undyne or Undying.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you enjoyed the chapter! If you want other updates, please consider following me on Insta or Tumblr!
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	41. Ch 38 - Start Breaking

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> HEY! Listen!
> 
> I know you're all eager to read, but hear me out quick.
> 
> A huge, huge thank you to all you readers. Life has been rough lately and it's given me the biggest writer's block I've had in a long time. I've struggled a lot with this chapter in the past month... All of your support, whether through comments or art or even the occasional chat, has really helped keep my spirits up. Your kindness means more than you know. Thank you <3
> 
> Also, potential trigger warning for this chapter. You know I can get rough, my lovelies.
> 
> Otherwise, enjoy, and have a beautiful day.

Ch 38 - Start Breaking

The door to the attic clicked softly shut as Marrie made his way upstairs to bed. You turned on the landing, the dirty dishes clinking softly in your hands. Sans held his arm out and you bumped into it.

“don’t go downstairs just yet,” Sans said to you, his low voice just above a whisper. A bit of melted ice cream had smeared on his sleeve from a bowl. He didn’t seem to notice it and shoved his hands back into his pockets. “everyone’s pretty much in their rooms by now except for Pap and Dyne.”

A soft ‘oh’ of understanding escaped your lips. The guys, more often than not, would teleport to other locations after dinner. They must have done that since none of them passed you on the stairs. Now that the kitchen was clear, Undyne was free to open up to Pap about everything that was on her mind and Sans wasn’t the only one who wanted her to have that chance. Based off her earlier stiffness during introductions, you couldn’t imagine how much more relaxed Undyne already had to feel without her Captain’s gaze looming over her. 

“Want to hang out in your room?” you asked Sans, your voice quiet to match his tone. You didn’t want your conversation to carry downstairs. “I’d offer mine, but…”

“let’s just stay out here for a bit. my room’s a bit dark for you and it’s always a mess.” Sans took a seat at the top of the stairwell and patted the space near him. Quietly, you resumed the spot you had just vacated. Only now it was Sans sitting next to you, not Edge. You carefully set the dirty dishes by your side. Sans looked the other way, at the wall with the attic door, before turning his gaze back towards you. “that’s uh… quite the outfit you picked up.”

A quiet chuckle escaped you. “Yeah,” you nodded, lifting your arms to show off the trailing, black lace of your sleeves. “Abby helped me pick it out. It was a bit more expensive than I would have liked, but I turned down her offer to go to Jamaica with her and it cheers her up to dress me.”

Sans glanced at you out of the corner of his socket. “so you… really don’t know the significance of collars for us?”

You stared at your lap, paling slightly. Of course the rest of the table could hear your conversation with Marrie, if they had been listening. Normally you wouldn’t have slipped up like that. Getting three hours of sleep had taken its toll. Why didn’t you try to get a nap in?

“look, Thyme,” Sans turned on the step to face you and his knee touched yours. “you don’t have to tell me what you know. I know you, and I know that after Edge degraded you and offered to buy you a collar you probably looked for answers to understand what that means to us. that’s just who you are.”

“I never asked anyone about collars,” you mumbled, shaking your head. You had never thought Edge’s past offer was anything more significant than an insult. How were you supposed to pick up on gold and ownership, objects and Garamond, just from that conversation? That information had been given to you later, by Red, when he wanted you to understand him.

“but you know you don’t have to prove anything, right?” Sans gave you a weak smile. “you already did that when you talked back to him that day. seriously. hearing your soul seethe in anger but then watching you try to mask it with kindness anyway was more than enough defiance to make your point.”

A smile tugged at the corners of your mouth from the compliment. Your voice came out a small whisper, “I know. I didn’t wear this to prove anything to Edge or anyone else. I honestly didn’t think of this as a collar,” you tugged at the strap of cloth around your neck, thumbing the small button holding it together. “It’s just part of the dress to me. I only wanted to be supportive to what was going on, you know?”

Sans tilted his skull at you. “you know none of us would be offended if you just wore something you’re comfortable in, Thyme.”

“Shouldn’t I wear something nice for the… the funeral, though?” You leaned close to Sans, your words barely above a breath. “I didn’t know Undying but I wanted to do something to show respect. I don’t know any of your customs but the least I could do was wear black. Axe had my only black dress and that’s in tatters now...”

Sans brought up the cuff of his hoodie and stifled a chuckle in the blue sleeve. “we don’t wear black to mourn in the Underground, Thyme. if anything we wear black to go unnoticed. all monsters have dark vision but it’s still hard to pick out a black figure if everything else is black, too.”

“Then what do you do for funerals?” you asked, wanting to clarify this. The guess of an appropriate color was wrong. What else was different? You had your own ideas but didn’t want to do anything rude by assuming too much. “I know you guys don’t leave bodies behind so you probably don’t have things like viewings… Do you wear white during mourning? Some human cultures do that. Or do you have some other kind of ceremony?”

“no,” Sans shook his skull, a lazy grin upon his face. He looked out over the open staircase to the front door far below. “we don’t change our appearances at all when we mourn or have elaborate ceremonies. honestly, if you’re lucky enough to get the dust of your relative or friend, all you do is scatter it amongst their element and that’s it. you just try to move on after.”

You furrowed your brow and stared at the slim, black bell of your dress. If monsters had such scant funeral rites, being unable to complete them had to make accepting a death that much harder. “Do you mean scatter in… a place that meant something to them?”

Sans stared out, quietly thinking. He glanced once more over his shoulder at the wall again before replying in a low, hushed tone you just barely heard despite your closeness. “no, I mean a place that shows our alignment. we might be born the same way, but our individual magic is associated with one of the six elements. it’s more of a superstition than a hard fact, but if you can scatter dust at a place like that then it’s said that monster’s soul will find peace. they’ll be one with their element again.”

“Six elements?” you mumbled in confusion, “I’m guessing you don’t mean like the ones on the periodic table.”

“air, fire, water, metal, earth, and wood,” Sans barely breathed his words. He ticked off his fingers, but closed his thumb back into his palm on the last one. “so if you have someone who’s alignment is water, you find a place full of water to scatter their dust. but you never want to scatter water amongst fire, since they’re contradicting elements and are highly reactive when put together. the soul wouldn’t find rest. if you don’t have water available, you find something neutral to water like air or earth.”

“Does that have something to do with what Marrie said earlier? About being ‘alchemically neutral’?” you asked, quirking a brow at Sans. His lights widened ever so slightly and he tilted his skull towards the landing behind you. “He mentioned that but he never answered my question when I asked him about it. It’s not illegal for me to know if he brought it up, right?”

“no, not exactly,” Sans said hurriedly, his low tone anxious. “alchemy is a subject we shared with humans way back before we were sealed underground. but you need to be careful asking about it. it’s-”

Sans looked over his shoulder, then quickly grabbed your arm and pulled you into a kiss. You froze, your eyes wide, as he cupped your cheek and stopped you from pulling away. What the hell was going on? One moment he wanted to explain something and the next he was sticking his glowing tongue down your throat.

A slight vibration ran through the wood floor towards your fingers. A pair of white boots came to rest by your hand. “Oh, am I interrupting something?” A warm, tenor voice drifted down. Sans finally let you break the kiss and the two of you looked up at Marrie’s towering figure. His onyx eyes darted between the two of you over a patient smile. A rolled up, white leather tool bag was in his right hand and a long pair of leather cords dangled from it towards the floor.

“kinda,” Sans shrugged, his low tone chilled. “need something, Marrie?”

“Yes, I wanted to know if you happened to have a lamp.” Marrie’s gaze settled on Sans’ contact with you, the touch he had on your neck and his bony hand sliding down your arm, but that didn’t affect Marrie’s pleasant expression at all. “My apparatus needs an adjustment and a single overhead light makes it hard to see the more delicate connections in the heatsink.”

“should have one in my room. pretty sure it’s broken but it’s nothing a genius like yourself can’t fix, right?” With an irritated sigh, Sans rose to his pink slippered feet. “guess I’ll see you later, Thyme.”

Taking that as your cue to leave, you gathered up Edge’s dishes, mumbled a good night to Sans and Marrie, then hurried down the stairs. You could still hear their conversation drifting out over the landing.

“Are you two dating?” Marrie’s curious tone echoed down the stairs to you.

“yup.” Though Sans lacked lips, the word popped with an irritated clack of his teeth.

“Do your brothers know?”

“what’s it to you?”

“I simply see it as a curiosity.”

Their words became muffled as you drew closer to the kitchen. A small knot in your chest eased somewhat. Despite everything you had to keep hidden, at least there was one thing to be grateful for. Marrie, it seemed, didn’t care about a cross-species relationship. He was only curious about it. A nervous laugh escaped you. Your braided pigtails swayed as you shook your head. Hopefully he wouldn’t get too curious about it. The brothers tolerated each other because they were family - you doubted that understanding would stretch so far for a stranger. Especially one with slight boundary issues and boundless curiosity.

But what had Sans been trying to tell you about alchemy? It must have been important, if he would risk trying to warn you when he had heard Marrie coming.

As you passed through the archway you paused. Undyne and Pap were still seated at the table. Pap had moved to your old seat next to her. Undyne was leaning heavily against him, her arms wrapped around him, with her face buried into his chest. Her shoulders shook silently. Pap gently held her and pet the ends of her red barbels to calm her. Pap’s white lights snapped up at you, shrinking in surprise to see you. You gave him a soft smile and quietly made your way to the sink.

“HONEY, I…” He turned in his seat, his touch falling away from Undyne. He watched you drop the dishes off amongst the pile in the sink. Undyne raised her head. She glared at you over Pap’s shoulder and the ends of her barbels twitched with agitation.

“Sorry for interrupting,” you said quickly. It felt really awkward to know that you had just walked in on Undyne crying. Her dark eyes hid any redness, but you could see mahogany tears still clinging to her lashes. “I’m just dropping these off before I study. Good night, you two, if I don’t see you later.”

You quickly retreated behind the basement door. When it clicked shut behind you, you let a heavy sigh out. A coil of jealousy was tightening around your stomach from seeing Undyne clinging to Pap like that. But they were just friends, you firmly told yourself. They’re just friends and she needed her friend right now. That was the whole point of her and Marrie coming here. For them to have support.

Shaking the intrusive thought from your head, you descended the creaky, wooden steps to a cacophony of screaming aliens, revving car noises, and gunshots. Mutt and Butch sat huddled around the computer (Mutt in his swivel chair and Butch on a pile of clothes) and were barking information to each other. Butch was, you noticed with a warm rush of affection, wearing his new, maroon hoodie.

“mythic hunter…! you drive the warthog… and I’ll shoot!”

“No way, get the tank! It can eat those fuel rods it fires at us!”

“the tank is too big…!”

“The banshees, then! We can fly out over the water to avoid it!”

You smiled fondly and left the boys to their game. It was nice to see them working together on one, for a change, instead of playing versus. It still tickled your humor that the boys hadn’t noticed you. You knew they could hear your soul, but if they were distracted enough you could slip right by them unnoticed.

Mutt had set up your bookshelf and dresser at the far end of the room, opposite the stairs. They were butted up against the concrete wall and although your books were sitting neatly on their shelves, (you had organized them before leaving for school,) your clean clothes had been left in a pile atop the dresser. The mall bags were sitting on their sides in front of the book case. Rolling your eyes above your smile, you dug through the bags in search of a change of clothes. At least Mutt had been sweet enough to finish your laundry. You’d have to thank him once he was done with his game.

With Mutt and Butch distracted, you carefully stripped off the black dress so as not to snag and tear any of the expensive lace. You changed into the yellow pants you had bought, the ones with the honeycomb print on the right hip, and pulled out a black ‘Florence and the Machine’ band shirt to go with it. Humming to yourself, you dug around for your backpack and found it hidden beneath your pile of laundry. Your notes in hand, you turned to the bed to study and froze.

You were not expecting someone to already be there. Axe laid on his belly, his skull propped up on his hands. He had a wide, flirty smile on his skull and his hazed, red eye light watched you. Embarrassed heat rose to your cheeks. Had he been laying there the whole time?

Judging by the way he quietly beckoned you towards him with his finger, he had. Guess Butch and Mutt weren’t the only ones to miss things.

“H-hey guys!” you said, announcing yourself to the rest of the room, and sat next to Axe. Butch dropped his controller to the floor with a surprised clatter and Mutt glanced over his shoulder to greet you.

“Hey, Robin! How’d dinner-  _ dude get your hands off her that’s my bed!”  _ Mutt snarled, rising out his chair as Axe snaked his arms around your waist. Your face flushed red as he nuzzled his skull against your legs.

“...I’m not… doing anything,” Axe mumbled into your lap. A low, angry growl from Mutt crossed the room and you quickly rolled Axe off your lap and to your side. 

“Come on, Axe, I really need to study,” you said gently, hoping that would help placate him. Axe’s eye light still hadn’t lost it’s haze from watching you change and he tightened his arms back around your waist.

“how did… dinner go?” Butch quietly asked you. His white lights glanced out of the corners of his sockets at Mutt’s tight fists. You noticed those, too. Cracking your textbook open, you shrugged your shoulders and chewed on a reply.

“It was… interesting,” you said slowly. “Marrie and Undyne seem okay, given their situation. It was a little awkward at times but overall it went alright.”

“are they nice…?” Butch turned on the pile of clothes, ignoring the computer game in favor of his curiosity. Mutt jabbed a finger at his glowing, pink keyboard to pause Halo. He sank back into his swivel chair and also turned towards you.

“I guess so?” you shrugged. You watched Axe idily trace the honeycomb pattern on your hip to avoid Butch and Mutt’s gazes. “It’s hard to say for sure given what they’re going through with Undying. They both seem friendly enough, even though I get this strong feeling that Undyne doesn’t care for humans very much.”

“...I don’t… like Marrie,” Axe grumbled. “...he’s lucky… Red held me back… after he pulled your hair.”

“He  _ what?” _ Mutt and Butch growled together. Butch rose to his feet and Mutt’s sockets were dangerously close to losing their red light.

“he didn’t hurt you… did he?” Butch asked, a hardness to his normally soft tone.

“No, he was just curious,” you said quickly. “He let go and asked about it after.”

“...after Red… said he’d bite off his fingers.” Axe rolled his eye light. He flopped onto his back, one arm still around your waist, and smiled at the ceiling. “...I like Red.”

“I’d do more than just bite his fingers off,” Mutt growled. 

“Hold on, I don’t think Marrie was trying to be malicious,” you said quickly, sensing the rising tension. “He’s just curious. It’s his first time on the surface and I’m positive I’m the first human he’s ever met. He thought my hair was barbels!”

“That makes what he did even worse,” Mutt grumbled darkly. “Barbels are extremely sensitive, Robin. It seems to me he was trying to hurt you.”

“I don’t think so. He let go of me and didn’t try to touch me again after Red threatened him, and he seemed genuinely concerned about me after Undyne gave me a hard time.” you pressed. “Marrie might have some boundary issues, but he doesn’t seem like a bad person. Think about what he’s going through right now. Everyone processes grief differently. He might be trying to avoid dealing with the death of his sister by hyper focusing on something new.”

“Why are you defending him?!” Mutt snapped. You and Butch both recoiled from the aggression. It wasn’t like Mutt to direct anger at you like that. Then again, you knew he was already frustrated from being stuck in the basement. It must be even more frustrating for him to be aware that someone he couldn’t meet was giving you attention. He was better at managing his jealousy but he wasn’t immune to stress.

“I’m sorry, I’m just trying to see it from his perspective, too,” you said gently, trying to soothe Mutt. Butch quietly crossed the room and got on the bed, seating himself behind you. He leaned his chest against your back and rested his skull on top of yours, holding you protectively.

“we’re just worried for you… Lily.” Butch’s arms tightened around you and you gave his forearm a soft squeeze, appreciating that he wasn’t getting as irritated as his brothers over this. Or if he was, you couldn’t see his expression anymore with him behind you, at least he wasn’t as close to blowing up as Mutt was.

“He’s just a teenager, guys,” you gave the three of them a soft smile and hoped to diffuse the situation. “I don’t expect him to be as mindful of himself as an adult. And,” you added quickly, “I’m not interested at all in him. Partially because he’s too young, and a little rude, but mostly because I already have you guys. This is my family.”

“but if he’s in his teendreds… that still means… he’s physically mature,” Butch said softly. His skull shifted as he glanced at Mutt, like he was thinking over his actions, before he took your hand in his. Mutt didn’t growl and Butch laced his fingers with yours. “it’s nice to know… you don’t like him like that, Lily… but he could still… become interested in you.”

Both Axe and Mutt let out low growls at those words. A tense silence hung in the air after Butch’s words.

“...maybe not.” Axe huffed after many long seconds. “...you three… didn’t hear him. ...after Willow left… the things he asked… about her… it was like he thought… she was our servant.”

Mutt raised a bony brow in surprise. His raspy voice was filled with irritation as he asked, “Why the hell would he have that impression?”

“Because…” you mumbled, trying to think, “I think Marrie saw me trying to be helpful, by cooking and offering to do laundry or cleaning, and assumed. It probably didn’t help that Milord introduced me initially as the just the groundskeeper.”

An angry snort shot out of Mutt’s nasal cavity. “Figures. What an asshole.”

“Mutt, don’t,” you said firmly. You already regretted bringing that name up. The last thing Mutt needed to think about right now was any hard feelings he had about his older brother.

“Don’t make excuses for him, Robin,” Mutt growled, turning his chair back towards his desk. He picked up his black pack of smokes, shook one out, and nestled it against his golden fang. “It’s Milord’s fault now if those pisceans treat you like some lowly servant and I’m going to kick his ass once this is all over if they do.”

“I’m not going to let them treat me like a servant, so don’t blame Marrie’s assumption on Milord!” you snapped. Mutt scowled at you and guilt weighed down on your shoulders. It wasn’t his fault that you were frustrated with yourself and tired. “Look, I’m sorry for my tone. I’m stressed out from today and I don’t want to argue with you. Who cares what they think of me? They’ll be gone in a few days.”

Mutt breathed a plume of purple smoke over the room. It rolled over the floor between you like a storm cloud and the sweet tobacco tickled your nose. 

“Hey, there’s something I want to know,” Mutt growled, his cigarette bouncing in his teeth. Purple smoke leaked from his mouth as he spoke, giving him the impression of an angry dragon. “How the hell do you not have a mark on you, Robin? You didn’t wash one off, did you?”

The question made you shrink a little. “N-no, I just… never got one.”

“Then where the fuck were you?!” Mutt snapped at Axe. “Pap was gone all day, Milord won’t because he thinks he’s better than everyone, and you know damn well I can’t mark her, not without announcing myself. So where hell were you?!” 

Mutt got up out of his swivel chair to pace. A trail of smoke followed him. Axe bristled at the hostility radiating off his brother and he gave Mutt a low warning growl. 

“Mutt!” You said firmly, glaring at him. “Watch what you’re saying!”

“Oh, who gives a shit if Butch knows!” Mutt rolled his fading eye lights, ate his spent cigarette, and nestled a new one between his fangs. “He’d be in the pack by now if you two would get over whatever weird fucking hang-up you have and just do it already!”

You got up off the bed, your hands raised to try and calm him. Mutt’s temper had already been simmering since this morning. There was no need to make it worse. “Mutt, let’s talk about this-”

“I am fucking talking about it!” Mutt threw his hands up in the air. In his anger he bit through his unlit, black cigarette. A low growl escaped him while he fished out another. “What I don’t get, Robin, is why you didn’t seek out a mark. You have two,  _ two _ , other suitors besides Butch and you didn’t get one from them, either? What the hell were you thinking!?”

You glanced back at the bed, at Butch’s anxious expression and Axe’s darkening one. “Go,” you told them, gesturing towards the ceiling. “Let me deal with him. Just go.”

Butch hesitated, nodded, and then tugged on Axe’s sleeve. Axe didn’t respond right away. His fading red light was too focused on Mutt’s agitation. Butch grabbed Axe’s arm and yanked on it and Axe finally came back to himself. Axe looked at Butch’s pleading gaze, gave you a worried glance, and you gave them both a reassuring nod.

They disappeared and the smell of iron lingered in their wake.

“Mutt,” you turned, eyeing him as he blew a plume of purple smoke across the room. You took a cautious step towards him. The last time he was this upset Axe had to stop him and Milord from attacking each other. “It just... didn’t happen. Sans did offer to mark me, but we were busy. I know you and the others care for me, even without one-”

“THAT’S NOT THE FUCKING POINT!” Mutt shouted. You stepped back in fright, almost tripping on the mattress. He had always been taller than you, but it was in this moment you noticed exactly how much he loomed over you. Mutt heard the fear pounding in your chest and he ground his sharp teeth together.

He took a step back and another long, slow drag off his cigarette to calm himself before speaking. “You don’t get it, Robin. I don’t know these people and you don’t know my kind like I do. You don’t see the shit I watch them do to each other every day. My brothers aren’t so different, but at least I know them. I can walk around among them and I can fight back against them. These strangers?” He took another drag and spoke through a plume of purple smoke. “I’ve told you marks are important to us. They’re not just a way to show others who’s yours. They’re a deterrent. If something happened to you, if you were hurt, I’d go after whoever did it. I’d break my biggest rule and I’d be found out. Then I’d be dusted. I don’t want any of that to happen.”

“I… don’t want that, either,” you said quietly, feeling small and incredibly guilty. You were always so worried about the jealousy that marks caused that you had completely forgotten what else they were used for. Sans had already mentioned it to you, but you were so focused on what Pap would think you didn’t give the rest of what he said a second thought. Now Mutt was nervous for you. And that feeling was made so much worse because he felt trapped. “I’m sorry. I made a mistake.”

A heavy sigh, and a cloud of smoke, left Mutt. He slowly crossed the room until he was within arms reach of you. You looked up at him and he turned his gaze away, towards the stairs. His raspy tone mumbled, “Just… wear one. Okay? I know normally I get a bit possessive of you if it’s someone else’s, but… it would make me feel better if you did. It can be any of my bros, pack or not. At least those strangers would know someone would be after them if they tried messing with you.”

You nodded. If that one thing could give Mutt some feeling of security then you’d make sure it happened. “I will. And… I want you to know that it’s not just about fighting, Mutt. You’re a really smart guy. If something ever did happen to me I know you could figure out a way to help that didn’t involve fists.”

Mutt chuckled in disbelief and stared at the cigarette between his fingers. “It wouldn’t be as satisfying.”

“No, but at least you could still be with me, after.”

Finally, he turned his red gaze on you. You watched as his eye lights softened in the silence that stretched between you. After an almost uncomfortable time, he mumbled, “...I’m sorry for yelling at you, pretty bird. I know you’re just trying to keep the peace and I forget sometimes how much you have to keep in mind. I don’t mean to take that for granted.”

“I’m sorry for not being more considerate of you,” you said, feeling a bit of tension fall off your shoulders. “Things slip my mind and that’s not okay.”

“No one can think of everything,” Mutt waved his empty hand at you. “Trust me, I watched Milord try to do it all my life. So don’t worry so much. Otherwise I might never get to enjoy your heat again.”

You giggled nervously at his attempt at flirting and Mutt gave you a tentative smile. One slow step at a time, you closed the short distance to him and wrapped your arms around his chest. He stiffened in surprise at the touch, but you felt him immediately relax and return the gesture.

“You’ll have to tell me how long marks last,” you said, your face in the chest of his black hoodie. You looked up at him just in time to see him flick the butt of his cigarette into his mouth. “I can’t smell them. If I don’t know a time I won’t know when it fades.”

Mutt hummed, his bony brow furrowing as he thought. “Depends on how thick we put it on. If you get a heavy mark that timeframe could stretch to twelve hours total. Light or incomplete ones are obviously shorter or harder to detect unless we’re up close. The average is around six or eight.”

You nodded and silently repeated this information to yourself, burning it into your brain. While you mumbled to yourself Mutt scooped you up and brought you back to the bed. A squeak of surprise escaped you as he dropped you onto the sheets. He climbed over top of you, a smirk on his skull, and you immediately knew what was on his mind. If it helped soothe his nerves you weren’t going to deny it. Not only that, it helped you feel that he had forgiven you.

“Don’t go overboard with your mark,” you warned him, pink in the face, as he nipped at your neck with a sharper than usual bite. “I have no idea when Undyne and Marrie wake up.”

~~~

The cool dark you opened your eyes to was disorienting. A dim blue and red light focused your blurry gaze - the echo flower on top of your bookshelf. 

The cheerful jingle from your phone was telling you it was morning, but your body felt heavy and chilled. You rolled over into the warmth at your back, smiling as you buried your face into smooth fabric that smelled of clove. Mutt hummed in his sleep and you felt his arms pull you into him. You rested your forehead against the steady rise and fall of his ribs, not really wanting to get up and leave his warm embrace. 

Mutt let out a grumble of protest as the alarm grew louder. Untangling yourself from the sheets in a begrudging huff, you leaned over the edge of the mattress and patted the cold concrete floor to turn the noise off. The blind search for your phone came up empty without guiding light. The bed shifted beneath you as Mutt rose up.

“Good luck on your exam, pretty bird,” Mutt mumbled sleepily. He placed a gentle kiss on your cheek and put your now silent phone into your hands. “Last one before break, right?”

Smiling, you tilted his skull towards you and stole a deeper kiss. “Yeah,” you hummed against his teeth, your tongue tingling with his flavor. “Though I’d rather stay in bed today. I feel exhausted.”

“Then come back and nap with me when you’re done.” Mutt gave you a small slap on the ass to get you out of bed. “Just not now. You’d be pretty upset if I let you sleep through an exam. Don’t forget to get a mark before you go, either. Mine’s already faded.”

You nodded and let out a loud yawn. “I will, love, don’t worry.”

“You know I do.”

The shock of the cold concrete floor sent shivers up your scarred feet and through your spine, waking you almost as effectively as a cup of coffee. Using your phone’s light, you made your way to the pine dresser. You stared at the pile your phone illuminated on top of it. It felt like too much work (and too chilly in the basement) to change. It was the last day of school before break - did it matter all that much if you wore your leisure clothes?

You swept your study things off your bookshelf and into your backpack, fished through the remaining mall bags for a pair of books, and quietly made your way back upstairs. Mutt’s snores followed you up the creaky, wooden steps and you lamented that you weren’t back in bed with him.

The dawn light was almost blinding after the dark of the basement. You shut the door behind you, blinking rapidly to clear the spots from your vision, then froze.

Undyne stood before the open fridge, also frozen in place. A block of cheese was in her webbed hands and her sharp teeth had paused mid-bite through the hunk of cheddar. The two of you stood there, staring at each other. A second pair of translucent lids slicked over her dark right eye when she blinked. The apparatus around her neck burbled quietly, filling the silence.

“Uh, morning, Undyne,” you mumbled through another yawn. Those words unfroze her, too, and she finished taking a large bite of cheese to avoid speaking to you. “Sleep okay?”

Judging by the dark navy shadows under her good eye, she had not. Undyne didn’t answer you. She only glared at you as she slowly chewed. The red barbels lying on her back twitched irritably.

“Oookay,” you scratched at your mane of hair again and made your way over to the marble counter. You set your backpack and books aside to rifle through the cupboards. “Do you want some coffee? I wouldn’t mind making an extra cup if you do.”

She swallowed her mouthful of cheese. “I don’t like coffee,” her deep voice grunted.

“Tea?” you offered, your hand on the box of ginger tea Abby had given you. 

“Do you smoke?” Undyne asked suddenly. 

Your grip tightened around the box of tea in your hands. She could smell Mutt’s cigarettes on you. Of course she could. He had been chain smoking last night. Was the sweet tobacco enough to cover his scent?

“Um, no,” you said slowly, trying to strain your tired mind for an explanation that would keep Mutt safe. “I… like the smell though, so I don’t mind if they’re burned around me.”

“So you just light a smoke and let it sit there?” Undyne asked, disbelief lacing her deep voice. She took another bite of cheese and you swallowed past the dryness in your throat.

“I mean, I burn incense just for the scent,” you shrugged, trying to act like lighting cigarettes without smoking them was normal. To keep this façade up you went about making your morning pour overs. “By the way,” you pointed at her with one of the mugs you had taken out, to change the subject, “you should be careful taking food from the fridge.”

“Paps told me to make myself at home, so I am.” Undyne leaned against the silver fridge and studied the block of cheese in her hands. A shimmery smear of wet film rubbed off her shoulder and streaked across the clean steel of the door from her adjustment.

“I’m not saying you shouldn’t, but he did warn you that some of his brothers are sensitive about food, right?” You left a pot of water on the stove to boil, then made your way to the fridge for the milk. Undyne stood in your way, casually leaning against the closed doors and staring down at you. “If you’re hungry,” you offered, “I could make you something to eat.”

“I know how to cook,” Undyne growled. She glared down at you, her dark eyes narrowed, as she took another large bite of cheese. She glanced at the pair of mugs on the counter and quirked a brow at them. “If they’re so sensitive, maybe you should only have one cup of bean juice.”

You followed her line of sight and a small chuckle escaped you. “I am only having one. The other is for Milord.”

Undyne hesitated as she went to take another bite of cheddar. Slowly, she lowered the block away from her mouth and you saw several rows of marks where her sharp teeth had just been. She watched you with a shrewd expression, then backed away from the fridge. A sinking feeling filled you while you went for the milk. Everywhere Undyne had touched with her bare, navy skin had that slimy film clinging to it.

“And he… lets you.” It wasn’t a question. More of a statement laced with disbelief.

You nodded, not really thinking of your reply while you returned to your in-progress lattes, and made a mental note to clean up the kitchen before Milord saw the streaks Undyne had left behind. She couldn’t help it, you weren’t upset with her for what her body did, but you didn’t want Milord chastising Undyne for something she probably didn’t think about. “Sure. It took me a while to figure out how he likes his coffee, he never told me, but I’d like to think he prefers what I make over that instant stuff he used to drink.”

Undyne let out a heavy snort. “Yeah, sure. Keep telling yourself that, human.”

The sting in her deep tone did not go unnoticed. You stared down at the pot of milk and gave it a slow stir to keep it from scalding. Why did Undyne seem so determined to dislike you? 

Either way, you were determined not to let her attitude get under your skin. Kill them with kindness, your mother always said.

“What would you like to do today?” you asked, trying to keep your tone light and cheerful while you stirred the pot. “We have a bunch of movies if you’d like to watch any, or video games to play. Or if you’d rather explore the property you could ask Axe to show you around-”

“What’s it to you?” Undyne growled.

You fought the smile tugging at your lips. Despite Undyne’s obvious hatred of him, she reminded you a bit of Edge. “I just want you to feel welcome here, Undyne.”

Undyne’s azure lip curled back in a sneer, showing you her sharp teeth. “I have Pap for that, human.”

You nodded in understanding. Of course she would much rather spend time with her friend, rather than strangers. She may have been impressed by Axe’s scar but that didn’t automatically establish trust between them. “If you want to hang out with Pap,” you said as poured steaming milk into the waiting mugs, “the door to his room is the one with caution tape on it. He usually wakes up earlier than the others but I don’t think he’d mind if you woke him up.”

With an air of calm you grabbed the pair of books from the counter, nestled them under your arm, and took both of the steaming mugs in hand. “Want me to show you while I bring Milord his coffee?”

Undyne stuffed the last of the cheese block into her mouth. Her good eye narrowed at you, scrutinizing you, as you paused under the archway to wait for her. That look might have been unnerving if her navy cheeks weren’t puffed out like a squirrel’s. She wiped her hands on her black pants, folded her arms over her chest, and made no motion to follow you. You shrugged. If she wanted to wait in the kitchen for Pap that was her choice.

You carefully sipped from one of the mugs and hummed to yourself as you made your way down the entry hall. Despite the fight with Mutt last night, and Undyne’s sour attitude this morning, you felt an excited bubble inflating in you. Break was so close. Just one more exam and you’d be free for a whole glorious week. It was hard to feel down when you thought like that.

_ “Happiness hit her,” _ you sang in a whisper, climbing the stairs,  _ “like a train on a track _

_ Coming towards her, stuck still no turning back.” _

The doors slipped by as you sauntered down the second story landing.

_ “The dog days are over, the dog days are done _

_ The horses are coming so you better run.” _

Reaching Pap’s door, you shuffled the handles of the mugs into one hand. The ceramic clinked together and you knocked on the caution tape, still humming to yourself.

Pap opened the door, his white lights foggy with sleep. He wore only his orange striped, silk pants and you stared up at his yawning skull with a smile on your face. “Morning, Pap.”

“HONEY?” His eye lights wavered in surprise. “YOU… SEEM HAPPY TO SEE ME.”

“Why wouldn’t I be?” You shifted the mugs to hold one in each hand again. The ceramic was starting to become too hot to hold. “Sorry to wake you so early, but Undyne’s up, too, and she seems like she could use some company.”

“ARE YOU SURE I…” Pap drifted off, his attention directed over your shoulder. You turned and saw that Undyne was at the end of the hall. Her hand rested on the twisted railing of the stairs and she kept quite still as she watched you and Pap talk.

“Go on,” you hissed under your breath, encouraging Pap with an elbow to his hip. “She needs her friend right now, Pap. Go show her around the grounds or get her to make breakfast with you. She told me she cooks!”

Pap hesitated, his white lights darting between you and the female piscean. “ALRIGHT. UM...” Raising his loud tone a bit, he directed it down the hall, “MORNING, UNDYNE! GIVE ME A MOMENT TO CHANGE AND I’LL BE RIGHT OUT.”

He disappeared back into his room. You stared at his door for a moment with a quirked brow. It felt like Pap had acted kind of oddly, but you couldn’t be too sure. Maybe he had a lot on his mind from his talk with Undyne last night. Or it could be you were just overthinking it and he was just dreary from sleep.

As you moved further down the hall towards Milord’s door you heard the quiet clomp of Undyne’s boots as she followed you from a distance. She kept a healthy space from you and leaned against the wall to wait for Pap. You could feel her watching you as you knocked on Milord’s door with your foot.

The exchange with Milord was entirely silent. He opened his door for you, his purple eye lights appraising your messy hair and the mugs in your hand. You smiled sheepishly. There was no doubt of his thoughts as he stood there in his plum dress shirt and black slacks. He rolled his lights with an irritable sigh, then stepped aside to allow you inside. Before the door clicked shut you caught the glare he shot down the hall at his Colonel.

“Be brief, Zeta,” he said, his cool tone snippy. He stayed near the door, standing at attention with his hands clasped behind his back. You huffed in slight irritation at his attitude and offered him a latte.

“It’s almost like you don’t want to see me,” you pouted. 

“We have an appearance to maintain.” Milord’s eye lights drifted up to your hair again. “You more so than I, it seems.”

You stifled a chuckle. That was probably the closest Milord had ever gotten to telling a joke. “I haven’t had a chance to stop by my bathroom yet.” You took the books out from under your arm and offered them to him. “Here, I wanted to give you these before I left for class. I thought you might like something a bit more fun to read than textbooks during your time off.”

“ _ ‘The Lord of the Rings’ _ and  _ ‘Ender’s Game’ _ ?” Milord left his mug hanging in the air on a cloud of frosty, lavender plasma in favor of examining the books. He turned the thicker of the two tomes over, but his eye lights were focused on the smaller volume. “This name is familiar… Orson Card. He wrote  _ ‘Speaker for the Dead’,  _ did he not?”

“You’ve read the Ender series before?!” Your eyes widened with surprise. “But that’s a human author. How did you get it in the Underground?”

“The same way the rest of my kind acquires human paraphernalia - the dump.” Milord’s purple lights flickered up at you before returning to the books. “I purchased the restored volume from a scavenger when I was a child. Personal effects were never something I made an effort to accumulate, though I made an exception in an attempt to sate my curiosity on your species. It is regrettable Ender is an obvious work of fiction.”

You watched Milord thumb through the beginning pages with a warm fondness. It made sense that he would relate heavily to the child genius. What would he think of the themes in the first volume - that of a war between species? The later one,  _ ‘Speaker for the Dead,’ _ dealt heavily with Ender’s remorse. Would he find the beginning of the series interesting or relatable, too?

With Milord focused on his gift, your eyes wandered around the room. He wasn’t telling you to leave and you wanted to find a way to spend time with him later. Your gaze settled on the mahogany desk across the room. Three stacks of papers sat on it and you glared at them.

“Are you working on something today?” you asked, trying to keep the disapproving stiffness out of your voice. The question was your way to prod and you knew you weren’t being too subtle. If he was working on his time off you’d have something to say about it.

“If you recall, I have stated before that I shall not remain idle.” Milord followed your gaze to his desk. A smirk tugged at his sharp teeth. The book in his hand shut with a snap and he took his latte from the cloud of plasma to sip at it. “Before I left you gave me three topics to research - the history of the ex-boss Garamond, the uses of gold, and crime statistics. They will be fresh in my mind when we cross reference this story Red has fed you. Speaking of such things… when would your schedule allow us to discuss the matter?”

The grip you had on your mug’s handle started to shake until you braced it with your other hand. Two feelings warred within you. The joy that Milord was trying to understand Red despite their feud with each other - and the dread from knowing that, once you sat down with Milord, he would ask you a lot of very difficult to answer questions. Ones you might not be able to answer if you were going to keep your promise to Red.

A knock at the door spared you from replying. Milord set his new books atop the filing cabinets along the wall and opened the door to Papyrus and Undyne. You held your mug to your chest, biting the inside of your lip while you wrestled with your nerves and tried to come up with a time for him.

“HEY, MILORD,” Pap gave his brother a cheery wave. He had changed into his white button up and acid wash jeans. His white eye lights darted towards you and, by their slight narrowing, you knew he could hear your distress. Undyne mirrored his reaction, though her expression lacked the concern Pap’s took on. Pap glanced at Undyne out of the corner of his socket, seemed to decide on something, and looked back at Milord. “SORRY TO BOTHER YOU. DO YOU THINK I COULD TAKE UNDYNE TO THE OTHER SIDE OF THE MOUNTAIN TODAY? I FIGURED, SINCE SHE’S IN THE GUARD…”

The leather of Milord’s glove creaked as his grip tightened on the brass doorknob. “Her enrollment does not quicken reports from my scouts, Papyrus.”

“Sir,” Undyne’s deep voice snapped at attention, along with her stance, “Don’t worry about a thing, sir, Papyrus is more than safe with me.”

“I CAN TAKE CARE OF MYSELF, UNDYNE. I’M NOT DEFENSELESS IF SOMETHING-”

You could feel the air grow colder with Milord’s glare. Pap snapped his mouth shut and stared sheepishly at the floor. Their conversation distracted you as you tried to work out what they were talking about. Then it hit you - Pap wanted to go to the other side of the mountain and show Undyne the new village being built. Milord’s scouts were the members of the Guard that Sans mentioned at dinner. The same ones scanning the mountain for anything that might have escaped the breach. It made sense that Pap would ask for permission for the sake of safety.

“I will allow it,” Milord said coolly, his gaze darting between the two giants as they shrank before him, “under the condition that you follow the river. Find others to escort you, with my orders, then bring me back a report on progress before dark. Understood?”

“Sir!” Undyne bowed her head and her dreadlock-like barbels slithered over her shoulders. Pap gave a fervent nod. His eye lights found you again.

“AND I NEED TO TALK TO HONEY,” Pap’s hands twisted around his red mitts while he shifted on his feet.

Milord sighed irritably and waved his hand at you, shooing you from the room. “Chastising you further on your disheveled appearance would be redundant. Do not approach me again in such a state, you disgusting layabout. Have I made myself clear?”

The sting in his tone had you inwardly recoiling in a hurt confusion. He barely said anything about your messy hair. A glance at his stern expression, at Pap’s somewhat nervous one and Undyne’s barely hidden glare, and you understood the insult. It was all about appearances.

“Sorry, sir,” you said in a quiet mumble as you passed. A slight lavender flush bloomed on Milord’s skull and he slammed the door shut behind you to hide it. A sinking feeling filled you as you wondered if he was going to continue to snap at you whenever guests were around.

You wouldn’t put it past him.

“What’s up, Pap?” You looked up at him. In an attempt to brush off your lingering hurt at Milord’s change it attitude, you put on a soft smile. “You wanted to talk to me?”

Undyne snickered by his side while he hesitated. “You get yelled at a lot. Don’t you, human? First time the Captain scolded me I was pale till the fields flooded, but you seem used to it.”

“UNDYNE, DON’T GIVE HONEY A HARD TIME,” Pap’s bony brow furrowed as Undyne continued to snicker at you. “AND I REALLY DO NEED TO TALK TO HER SO DO YOU THINK MAYBE…?”

“Yeah, sure,” Undyne gave a bored yawn that showed off all of her sharp teeth. “Probably not the first time you’ve had to reassure her. I’ll meet you outside, big guy.”

Undyne clapped Pap on his shoulder blade and she brought her arm up in a basic stretch as she walked away. The black tank top she wore rode up when she pulled at her elbow. You noticed something like a flowing, black script on her lower back and narrowed your eyes at it.

Holy shit. Did Undyne have a tattoo?

“HONEY?” Pap rested his large hand on top of your bedhead after Undyne disappeared downstairs. “IS EVERYTHING OKAY? YOU SOUND… NOT SO GREAT RIGHT NOW.”

You blinked up at Pap, then smiled. You took his hand from your head and gave it a tight squeeze. “I’m fine, Pap.” 

All you needed was time to get used to the changes the guests brought. Mutt’s significantly shorter temper, while expected, really shook you. He was normally so understanding. Not to mention there was so much more you had to be mindful of when you spoke.

Pap sat down on his heels so that he was closer to eye level with you. From the way his white eye lights darted over your face, you suspected that he didn’t fully believe you. “YOU’RE NOT,” his loud voice grew softer, “FIGHTING WITH MILORD, ARE YOU?”

“No,” you shook your head, smiling ever so slightly. “We’re okay, Pap. Really. He’s just a bit more stiff than he usually is because of company and it caught me off guard. I understand his reasons, though.”

“JUST BECAUSE YOU UNDERSTAND DOESN’T MEAN YOU HAVE TO BE OKAY WITH IT.” Pap’s thumb drifted across the back of your hand through his soft mitt and he stared down at the touch. “ARE YOU MAD AT ME? YOU DIDN’T SEEM UPSET WHEN YOU WOKE ME BUT I REMEMBER THE SOUND YOUR SOUL MADE LAST NIGHT.”

You furrowed your brow and studied Pap’s determination to avoid your eyes. “Why would I be mad at you?”

“WELL, BECAUSE OF UNDYNE!” Pap’s words tumbled out in a rush and he had to stop himself to keep from speaking too loud in the hall. “SHE’S AN ALPHA, TOO, AND WHEN YOU WALKED IN AND I WAS HOLDING HER AND THEN I HEARD YOU GET UPSET-!”

You released his hand so that you could press a finger to his teeth, stopping the anxious flood before it could really start. A warm fondness filled you as he finally looked up in surprise and you caught his gaze. “I’m not mad about that,” you said softly. “I’m glad you can be there for your friend, Pap. I  _ want _ you to be there for her. Don’t worry about that soul noise I made. It’s not a big deal and I promise that, if it becomes something to worry about, I’ll talk to you about it. Okay?”

Pap’s eye lights softened as he nodded at you. He smiled and brushed strands of your messy hair out of your face. “I DON’T KNOW WHAT I DID TO DESERVE YOU. MOST ALPHAS WOULD BE FURIOUS IF THEY CAUGHT ME LIKE THAT.”

“Maybe I’m that way because you’ve earned my trust,” you grinned. You stooped down and set your mug on the floor so that you could step forward and wrap your arms around Pap’s neck. “I don’t know, though,” your grinned widened as you teased, “with how much of a catch you are yourself, I think I might have to punch Undyne to keep her off of you.”

“PLEASE DON’T DO THAT, HONEY,” Pap’s expression deadpanned and you giggled. “I MEAN IT. I’D STEP IN TO STOP HER FIGHTING YOU IF YOU DID THAT, SINCE I KNOW I’M PHYSICALLY STRONGER, BUT SHE CAN STILL PIN ME PRETTY EASILY SINCE SHE HAS MORE TRAINING.”

The image his words inspired flashed across your mind. That coil of jealousy slithered back into your stomach and twisted the training move into something more. Some of the others had been pinned by you before, namely Sans and Red, but you knew that was because they let you. If Pap was getting pinned by anyone you wanted it to be  _ you. _

“So, what do you think,” you leaned in and whispered to the side of his skull, “my chances of pinning you are?”

The skin of your cheek felt the heat flushing his skull orange. “UM, P-PRETTY GOOD.”

“Only ‘pretty good?’” You kissed his cheekbone and pressed your hand against his sternum, pushing him until he fell back. His butt slid off his heels and onto the floor with a thump. A mischievous smirk tugged at your lips and you stood over him, your feet planted on either side of his hips, to admire the flustered look you had given him. “I’d say it might be a little better than that, don’t you think?”

“S-STARS, HONEY, I-!” Pap’s orange color deepened as you sat on his hips.

“I know she’s waiting for you,” you purred and toyed with one of the buttons concealing the rapid rise and fall of his ribs. “So… maybe I could just get your mark for now? I want her to know that I’m yours. Then I’ll make you mine when we have more privacy.”

A shiver shook Pap and he stared down at you with his jaw hanging slightly open. “YOU’RE SOMETHING ELSE WHEN YOU’RE JEALOUS. DO YOU KNOW THAT?”

“Is that a no?” you pouted.

“HELL NO!” Pap grabbed you beneath your backside and hoisted you up as he rose to his feet. You let out a delighted squeal as he stole you away into the bathroom and closed the door.

You had never been in the guys’ shared bathroom before, but there wasn’t time to look around as Pap thrust you onto the counter, cupped your cheeks, and planted a deep, hungry kiss on your lips. You eagerly parted them to taste the brown sugar on his tongue. He grabbed at your waist, pulling yours into his, and the mirror behind you shuddered as he planted a bracing hand against it.

The first bite of his on your neck sent a shudder down your spine. You slipped your hand through the openings of his shirt to run your fingers over his ribs. The second had you biting your lip and wrapping your legs around his waist, pulling him into you. He eagerly ground his hips into yours, sending heat rushing to the teased area. The third bite had you moaning softly to the side of his skull. His grip on your hips tightened and he let his forehead fall against your shoulder.

“HONEY,” Pap panted, his breath warm on the nape of your neck, “I NEED TO EITHER CLAIM YOU OR STOP AND CALM DOWN. I REALLY,  _ REALLY, _ DON’T WANT TO DEAL WITH HIDING MY MANIFEST IF I’M AROUND UNDYNE.”

You nodded, also panting and pink in the face. Unlocking your ankles, you allowed Pap to take a step back. He ran a hand over his skull, his hazed white lights staring at you with longing, and let out a heavy sigh. You couldn’t help but feel a little guilty as he tried to not so subtly adjust his pants.

“Sorry, Pap,” you mumbled, embarrassed. “I didn’t mean to get possessive of you. Thinking of her pinning you just… kind of set me off. I should’ve dealt with that feeling better.”

“DON’T BE SORRY!” Pap pulled at his shirt so that it was no longer tucked in and now hung freely over his waist. “THAT WAS… HOT! NOT TO SAY YOU AREN’T NORMALLY, BUT THAT WAS...! STARS, HONEY, YOU KEEP SURPRISING ME.”

You giggled in appreciation. Some of the color had faded from Pap’s skull and he gently tilted your chin up.

“LET’S DO THIS LATER,” he smiled and gave you a short, sweet kiss. “YOU DESERVE BETTER THAN A BATHROOM SINK WHEN I’M WITH YOU. ONLY THE SOFTEST SHEETS WILL DO FOR MY ALPHA.”

You hummed in delight and tugged at his shirt to steal another taste of his sugar. “Be safe going to the village today. I love you, Pap.”

“LOVE YOU TOO, HONEY. BE SAFE GOING TO SCHOOL.”

~~~

The heel of your boot tapped against the linoleum. You carefully looked over the stack of papers in front of you, counting and counting the sheets again just to be sure. Behind you, one of the fluorescent bulbs flickered as it died. The lack of windows only made the stutter of yellow light all the more apparent.

That was going to bug the hell out of you while you tried to take your exam.

For now, though, you wanted to be sure of what you had found.

As per usual, you were the first to arrive to Monster Studies. It was nice to have a moment of quiet. A breather away from everyone. It never lasted very long, but you appreciated it all the same. It gave you a chance to do small things you had been meaning to do. Like count how many signatures your petition had gotten.

Some names repeated, some weren’t names at all. Some were little slanderous notes, others were phone numbers. You recognized one from a local pizza delivery since you had ordered from there so many times before.

Despite that, you felt a growing sense of excitement. You were almost sure. Positive. You had counted each page at least twice and had given more than enough room for error for the non-signatures.

“Holy shit, sweetie! Are you wearing  _ pants and a t-shirt!?” _

You looked up from the petition with a smug grin on your face. Abby paused by your desk, her groomed eyebrows raised at you. Her glitter makeup had deviated from her usual pink to a soft blue and she wore a sandy-colored fringe top with her designer jeans. Probably to celebrate her upcoming trip to Jamaica.

“What?”

“Check this out!” You waved her closer as Cam and your professor also entered the room. “Abby, I think we almost have enough signatures. I think we can take this to city hall soon!”

You squealed with excitement and did a little dance in your seat. You couldn’t  _ wait _ to tell the guys the good news!

“Really?” Abby picked up the top sheet and squinted at the list. “It’s only been two months. How many do you have?”

“Almost ten thousand!” You drummed on your desk in glee. Abby’s jaw dropped at you and her eyebrows jumped towards her blonde hairline. Both your professor and Cam turned to see what the noise was about.

“We don’t even have that many students on campus,” Abby said slowly, the reluctance to burst your bubble apparent on her face. “How did you…?”

“I went off campus, obviously.” You shrugged and caught the impatient cough from your professor. “Coffee shops, bookstores, and the mall. I’ll tell you more after the exam!”

Abby took the seat next to you. An air of surprise still lingered about her as you stuffed the stack of signatures into your bag and pulled out a pen.

Your professor cleared his throat again, adjusted his brown cardigan, and brushed back the loose strands of his grey comb over before speaking. He placed a pathetically thin stack of papers at the front of his desk and then sat in the worn chair behind it. “Bring the rough drafts of your final papers to me and take a test. Pens only. You have 45 minutes.”

The room filled with the rustle of paper, of chairs squeaking as they slid across the linoleum.  _ Why _ your professor insisted in your email that you had to turn in a physical copy, instead of emailing them like you usually did, escaped you. Your eyes glanced at the thin, paperclipped stack Abby handed over, the thicker one Cam offered with a single staple holding his sheets together, and the book-like, triple stapled stack in your own hand. You wondered if it was just easier for your older professor to read longer papers like this if he wasn’t straining his eyes on a computer.

The three of you resumed your seats, test in hand, and the room became quiet. The only sounds that broke the silence were the scritching of pens across paper, the occasional cough from your professor, or the quiet ticking of the clock high on the wall.

Abby, who was seated close to you, glanced occasionally in your direction beneath her glitter-covered lashes. You gave her a stern look when you finally caught her gaze. She pursed her glossy lips and returned to her own test.

One of the questions tripped you up.  _ Speculate the importance of various imports to the Underground. _ You scratched out the few sentences you had written in pen and chewed on the end while you thought of a better answer. It wasn’t a question you couldn’t answer - it was one you knew too much about.

Spices, cotton, and lumber. They seemed harmless enough on the surface, but you knew about the agricultural problem in the Underground. District 4 had a forest, you knew that from the brothers, but harvesting the trees wouldn’t be sustainable for the Underground in the long run.

_Given the misleading moniker, is the exchange rate of monster gold fair?_ _Argue your point using examples of exports and the potential scarcity of these resources._

Another hard to answer essay question. No, you didn’t think the exchange rate was fair, given that monsters needed to use pyrite instead of actual gold for currency given their reaction to rare metals. Their most valued export, magically imbued items, were definitely their most unique goods. Monsters could make them, but humans couldn’t. Other exports revolved primarily around stone - marble, granite, coal, even obsidian. That was a much more sustainable resource for the Underground, given that living under a mountain made mining a more realistic option for them, but it devalued their currency immensely because there were other sources around the world.

To your surprise, Cam was the first to rise from his seat and turn in his exam. Abby followed not long after, though you caught a glimpse of a lot of empty space on the top page. You reread your answers, scratched a few more points out, and let out a dissatisfied huff at your marked up pages. If it weren’t for the information restriction you knew you could do so much better.

“So,” Abby looked up from her phone after you handed in your midterm and resumed your seat. “What’s this about city hall?”

Her question lifted your spirits after such a frustrating exam. You smiled at her, joining the scuffle as the miniscule class gathered up their things. Your professor left in a moody haste and you and Abby followed him out not long after.

“I counted the signatures while I waited for the exam to start,” your steps bounced as you and Abby left the dreary basement of the Political Science building into the warm spring air. The sky had become overcast with grey clouds, but that did not stop your earlier excitement from surfacing again. “There are some that don’t count, since they’re not actual names, but each page has room for fifty signatures on one side and that makes a hundred signatures for a double sided page. But if you leave room for error-”

Abby quirked her brow at you and you realized you were rambling. Your cheeks turned pink and you smiled sheepishly.

“Once I confirm there are ten thousand signatures,” you said, getting to the point, “We can take the petition to city hall. They’ll have to formally recognize it! They’ll have to make a statement about it, it’ll get in the news, and more people will be aware of what the Segregation Act is doing to monsters! It’ll spark debates and really bring to light how awful it is to keep them restricted to the mountain.”

“I thought the whole point was to get rid of the Act, not just cause awareness?”

You sighed and slowed to a stop on the wide, cracked sidewalk leading back to the commons building. “Abby, your dad is a senator. Don’t you know how petitions work?”

Abby huffed at you and folded her arms over her perky chest. “No, I told you before that I don’t ask Daddy about politics. He rambles on forever.”

You nodded, recalling this fact, and decided to keep your explanation short. “Once we turn the petition in to city hall, our deadline gets extended by a couple months. The real challenge is going to be getting a hundred thousand signatures if we want to force our government to debate over the subject. I don’t know how we’re going to do that with just us. I’ve spent every spare moment I had on and around campus asking for signatures and it still took almost two months to get what we have.”

“Do you mind, asshole!?” Abby snapped. You recoiled at the sudden venom in her voice. Her anger wasn’t directed at you, however, it was at who was lingering behind you. Cam. “Get the fuck out of here, we’re trying to have a conversation!”

“Skanks,” Cam spat, his insult and dark glare directed at the both of you. He adjusted his backpack over his camouflage jacket and walked on. You shifted on your feet and pulled at the sleeves of your t-shirt. You wished it hadn’t been so warm so you could comfortably wear your leather jacket.

“Why not post it online?” Abby offered, her demeanor becoming pleasant again now that Cam had moved on. “I know you're weird and don’t have any social media accounts, but think about it, sweetie. After you turn this in and it hits the news it’ll be a trending subject. People will want to know more and if you have a page with information up people will come to you. You’re the best person to talk about monsters, sweetie, seeing as you live with them. What if you did a video blog and did something like an online QnA panel with Sans? I know you were all hush hush about letting me chat with him, but those kinds of videos would  _ explode _ on the web.”

The idea left you speechless. The thought had occurred to you before, but it just didn’t seem like a good one because of the information restriction. But Abby was right. If you were going to get enough signatures, you had to give people something they wanted - a reason to pay attention. If you worked with Mutt, just like you had with the initial video chat for Abby, maybe you could figure something out. Something that didn’t break laws (or hovered safely in that grey area) and still got the information out there.

“I mean, if you do feel like spilling some monster beans eventually,” Abby shrugged, watching you out of the corner of her eye, “I could help you set up an account somewhere. I have tons of followers on all my pages so I could give you some good tips.”

A rush of affection filled you. You pulled Abby into a hug and she stiffened.

“Thank you, Abby,” you said, your tone soft as you squeezed her tight. “I seriously don’t know how I would’ve gotten this far without you. I really, really appreciate all the ideas you’ve had.”

“If you appreciate it that much, come to Jamaica with me next time I offer.” Abby playfully stuck her tongue out at you after you released her. “Or we could do something like Italy or Greece.”

“What about something a little closer to home?” you asked, the two of you resuming your walk towards the commons building. You hesitated a little with your offer, but you felt like Abby had earned a lot of your trust. “I can’t promise it, but I could talk to the guys and you could come meet them in person. You could spend the night, maybe, and you could cook with Pap and me. You might even get to meet Butch, too, if I can talk him into it and - Abby?”

She had disappeared from your side. You looked over your shoulder and found her standing several feet behind you, her mouth hanging open in a surprised little ‘o’. Abby noticed you staring and her mouth snapped shut.

“Y-you said there’s, like… eight of them, right?” she asked, her voice a little shaky with fear. You narrowed your eyes at her paling cheeks and recalled how she had first acted when she talked to Sans. Abby might be curious about monsters, and working to overcome her racism, but she was obviously still a bit terrified at the thought of them.

You nodded and backtracked to her side. “Yeah, but they’re all very sweet once you get to know them. The only ones you’d have to be careful around are Red, Milord, and Edge. Red’s a good guy, though, once you get over his growly exterior, and Milord is nice despite his stiff personality. It would be best if you just avoid Edge, though. He’s a little difficult, even to his brothers.”

Abby quirked a brow at you. “What kinds of names are those? Red is pretty normal but… Milord and Edge?”

You shrugged. “There’s a guy I know named ‘Aquamarine’, too. I think it’s just a monster thing. They probably think some of our names are weird, too.”

Abby nodded and tucked a strand of blonde hair blown loose from her ponytail behind her ear. She fidgeted with the strap of her pink messenger bag and stared down at her embroidered flats. “I dunno, sweetie. I’ll have to think about it. I’m all for monster rights but meeting so many… that’s a little much for me. ...what if it was just us and Sans? Or that one you’re dating, Pap? I’d be a little more comfortable with that.”

“Sure. I get that it can be a little overwhelming to think about.” You chuckled softly, thinking back to the first day. “When Sans told me he had seven other brothers, when I was having my interview with him, I panicked a little. Do you maybe want to get lunch together? I could tell you a bit more about all of them and you can tell me about your plans for Jamaica.”

“Sorry, sweetie, I’ve got my last mid-term in dietetics.” Abby jabbed her manicured thumb towards the commons building and the out of sight science buildings on the far side of campus. “I can’t hang out tonight, either. It’ll take me all night to pack my bags before my flight tomorrow morning.”

“Would you want to get together after you get back?” You asked, stalling her before she walked away. “I’d like to hear about the trip and see the hundreds of pictures I bet you’ll take.”

A bright smile lit up Abby’s face. “Clear your calendar, sweetie,” she announced with flourish, “‘cuz I’m gonna make you regret not coming to Jamaica with all my stories!”

“Just don’t drink too many cosmos,” you called after her as she walked away, “or you won’t remember them!”

You adjusted the straps of your backpack, a feeling of contentment buoying you. Abby was right, again. Maybe introducing her one or two at a time to the guys would be better. It was exciting to think that she wanted to meet them, though. She had come a long way from the person you first knew.

And it was finally spring break. Finally, a chance to unwind a little.

A warm wind whipped at your t-shirt. You glanced up at the darkening sky and the grey rain clouds rolling in. A gasp left you. Your plants hadn’t been put in the ground yet. With all the chaos yesterday you didn’t have a chance to tend to your experiment. The looming storm would tear your poor plants apart.

Gripping the straps of your backpack tightly, you jogged along the pavement towards the parking ramp. You cut between other students and darted over the grassy lawn. 

The stormy air stilled inside the dimly lit, concrete and metal building. Your boots bit at your exposed ankles but you didn’t stop as you took the stairs two at a time towards the higher levels. 

You finally slowed to a stop as you reached the top floor. Your breath came in heavy gasps, you weren’t used to running like that, and you looked around for the blue shelby. It was right where you left it - hidden away in a corner away from the other cars. The last thing you wanted was to explain a dent to Pap.

You trotted over to the driver’s door and pulled your backpack off your shoulder to dig around for the shelby’s keys. They were in the front pocket along with a mess of other things you usually kept in the pockets of your jacket. You made a mental note to dig out your purse and put it to use again.

Your shaking hand fumbled the zipper and the contents of the pocket spilled out onto the oil-stained concrete. You swore under your breath and bent down to grab pens and pencils, your keys and phone and pepper spray-

A boot stepped on your hand as it closed over the little bottle. You hissed in pain and yanked your crushed fingers out from beneath the treads. Holding your spilled things to your chest, you looked up and felt your insides chill.

Cam glared hatred down at you.

“What do you want?” you growled and rose to your feet. Cam’s expression remained calm, save for the hardness in his eyes. One of his hands rested in his pocket while the other fidgeted at his side.

“So you’re going to city hall, huh?” he asked. He ran a hand over his shaved head before letting it fall back to his side. It would’ve seemed conversational, if it weren’t for him kicking your pepper spray under the car, or him taking a step forward to push you further into the corner. “You really think you’re some big shit, don’t you? That you’re going to bring monsters down the mountain single handedly, huh?”

“No, I think it’s going to be thousands of people that set them free.” You narrowed your gaze in disgust. “What do you want, Cam? If you’re looking for your car it isn’t here.”

“Nah, I’m just admiring yours. Not many people own a ‘66 Shelby.” Cam’s voice became dangerously quiet. “You’re making a mistake. What you’re doing. Those monsters are going to kill us all if they’re allowed to run loose.”

“Cam, we’ve debated this topic before,” you said firmly, though you took another step back when he continued to invade your personal space. Your eyes darted over his stiff shoulders, his clenched fist, and the space beneath your car where your spray had rolled. “You and I don’t see eye to eye on this subject. Let’s just agree to disagree and leave each other alone.”

Cam nodded his head and seemed to consider the matter in a mocking way. “Yeah, sure. I’ll leave you alone. After you hand over that petition of yours. Can’t make it easy for those freaks, now can we?”

“Get bent,” you growled at him. Your hands tightened over the phone and keys in your hands. You weren’t handing over anything, least of all the petition. You had worked far too hard to get every name, every scribble of ink.

And he didn’t scare you. Even if you were backed into a corner.

Cam narrowed his eyes at you. He pulled his hand out of his pocket and twirled his hand to unsheathe a butterfly knife. Your eyes went wide and your insides turned to ice at the flash of the steel blade beneath the orange garage lights.

“Let’s try that again,” Cam smirked and waved the knife at waist level. “Hand those papers over and I’ll leave you alone.”

“Do you honestly think that a law would stop them if they wanted to hurt us?” Your eyes darted past him, to the rest of the garage. If someone, anyone, would walk by, you could scream. You could throw your phone and pencils in his face and try to grab his wrist to keep the knife away. Just keep him talking. “If monsters wanted to, a law wouldn’t stop them. They’re keeping to it because they want peace. Or at least the chance at it-”

“You really are fucking stupid, aren’t you?” Cam stepped forward until the knife in his hand was an inch from your belly. You could smell his sour coffee breath from this morning. Fear started to creep in and make your hands shake. What if no one came? “Those things aren’t dumb. They’re waiting. Waiting until we let down our guard and let them out. Those things eat people and they can shrug off bullets. If you ask me, we should just drop a bomb on them and blow the whole mountain up. Before they spread out and we can’t kill them all at once.”

“That’s sick, Cam,” you pressed your back into the wall, shielding your bag. “You’re talking about genocide.”

“Better them than us.” Cam snarled and lunged for your bag. You leaned into the wall, pulling away as he tried to force your bag off of you. You caught the flash of his knife and did the first thing you could think of.

You kicked him as hard as you could in the balls.

The butterfly knife fell to the concrete with a clatter. You shoved Cam back, desperately trying to put space between you and him, but he still had the strap of your bag in his hand and you went down with him.

“You fucking bitch!”

Cam grabbed a fistful of your hair and yanked your face towards the floor. You cried out in pain, dropping everything in your hands. You scratched at his wrists to release you. He wavered on his knees, one hand holding his crotch. You felt his grip tighten on your scalp, ripping hair out by the roots. You scrambled to find the knife, to arm yourself and fight back-

The wall rushed towards you out of the corner of your eye and you felt your head explode in pain. Your vision doubled and you felt the unyielding concrete again. A high-pitched ringing filled your ears and slowly started to warble like a warped record. Another slam and yellow lights bloomed across your vision like flowers. 

Your body was thrown to the side, to the cold, dirty floor. You were vaguely aware of what was around you. Images danced in your eyes. Something wet and warm dripped into your lashes. Your arm fell to the side as someone above you rolled you onto your belly and pulled the bag off your back.

Your fingers touched something round beneath the car. A cylinder.

You looked towards it and saw a smear of red on your bicep. It smelled like iron.

Axe?

The double vision struggled to merge back into one as you tried to focus on your hand.

The petition.

Your boys.

Fight back!

You pushed yourself off the floor in time to see Cam retreating down the stairwell. You grit your teeth and adrenaline roared through your veins like wildfire. Your boots slipped in the blood and oil on the floor. You wiped the thick, warm wetness out of your eye and bolted after him.

The flash of his camo jacket caught your eye halfway down the stairwell.

You leapt at him, shoving him into the wall. The two of you tumbled down the last of the stairs. He shouted something at you, but you couldn’t understand past the warbled ringing.

The ringing.

The ringing.

The singing.

Calling.

He was beneath you, arms up to protect his red face and weeping eyes. Your pointer finger throbbed and stung from pushing on the broken switch of your pepper spray. Hands pulled you away from him. More shouting. A vague person was grabbing Cam, too, and pulling him up against the wall. Cam pointed at you, at the bag at your feet. You grabbed it and hunched over it to protect it.

That was yours.

No one else could have it.

Someone touched you and you threw the empty bottle in their general direction. It clattered away across the cement, useless.

“Dude, it’s okay,” a soothing voice, a gentle touch, finally reached you past the ringing in your ears. “Holy shit, Jake, she’s bleeding really bad from her head!”

“What the fuck happened?”

“The bitch tried to mug me!”

You snarled at the sound of Cam’s voice. “Liar!”

“I’m calling security.”

“Call the cops, you fucking idiot!”

Tears burned at your eyes. The warm wetness touched the corner of your mouth. You rested your burning forehead against the cold floor. Iron. You tasted-

“Axe,” you whined, crying out for him.

“Dude, get back here!” 

There was a scramble, a scuffle, as two pairs of feet beside you slid across the concrete. One of them ran away. The other stayed.

“Shit, Sam,” a male voice wavered with uncertainty. “The fuck do we do?”

“I told you, call the fucking cops!” The soothing voice above you had a bite to their words. They rubbed at your back and you loosened your grip on your bag ever so slightly. “Holy shit, Jake, you know who this is? It’s monster girl!”

You looked up. Your vision was starting to blur, from the pain in your head and the wetness in your eye, but you could just make out a pale face with lots of black makeup. A pair of headphones hung around their neck.

“Jake,” they said and gently pulled you to your feet. You leaned heavily against them and felt their headphones against your cheek. “Tell the cops to meet us at the campus clinic. We gotta get her to a doctor.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

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